A Family for Tory

by Margaret Daley

  Tory gently tapped him on the knuckles with a plastic spoon. “You’re supposed to be setting an example.”

  Slade grinned. “I thought I was supposed to be eating lunch.”

  “Is your dad always this ornery?” Tory exaggerated a stern look.

  Mindy bent over in laughter.

  He quirked a brow. “I don’t believe that’s a compliment.”

  “Well, at least you’re astute.”

  “Mindy, come to your dad’s defense,” Slade said while plucking up the last chicken leg and waving it like a sword.

  Mindy and Laurie continued to giggle.

  “No help there,” he muttered, and dumped the last of the coleslaw onto his plate. When he took a bite of the chicken, he smacked his lips and said, “Mmm. This is better than my mother can fix.”

  Tory nodded, saying, “Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Of course,” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken, “my mother has never fried a chicken in her whole life.” He looked innocently at Tory while putting a spoonful of coleslaw into his mouth. “And this is as good as Aunt—”

  Tory held up her hand to stop him. “I think I’ve had enough of your compliments for the day.”

  For the next ten minutes everyone ate their lunch to the sounds of the geese honking across the pond. Mindy craned her neck to see what was going on while cramming a cookie into her mouth, then snatching up another one.

  Laurie stood and moved toward the water. “They’re chasing away a beaver.”

  Mindy struggled to her feet. “Bea-ver?”

  “There’s a family on the other side. They dammed the stream that feeds into the pond and have built their home there.”

  “Can we go look?” Laurie asked.

  “Can we?” Mindy stood next to her friend, observing the commotion across the pond.

  “Let me finish eating and I’ll go—”

  “Dad-dy, I can—go a-lone.” Mindy straightened her shoulders and lifted her head.

  Slade threw a glance toward Tory, one brow arched in question.

  “Stay away from the edge of the pond and stay on the path,” Tory said.

  When the girls started toward the other side, Slade came to his feet to keep an eye on their progress. “Are you sure they’ll be all right?”

  “They’ll be fine. The path is wide, worn and level.”

  Slade bent and picked up his paper plate to finish eating his lunch while he observed Mindy. “You probably think I’m being overprotective, but I don’t want anything else to happen to my daughter.”

  “You’re doing what you think is right.”

  “It’s the parents’ job to protect their children. I let her down once. I won’t do it again.” Slade popped the last bit of food into his mouth.

  “Mindy doesn’t feel that way. She thinks you’re terrific.”

  “She talks about me?” Slade dropped his empty plate into the trash bag, then lounged against the tree, his arms folded over his chest, his legs crossed.

  “All the time.”

  Both of his brows rose, his sky-blue eyes growing round. “And?”

  “She wishes you didn’t have to work all the time.”

  “So do I, but all her doctor bills and therapy cost a lot of money. I want the very best for Mindy. Hopefully after my company’s expansion is complete, I’ll have more time for my daughter.”

  There was so much Tory wanted to say to Slade, but his look didn’t encourage further discussion. She didn’t have the right to interfere, even if she had come to love Mindy like a daughter. “Have you heard from Mrs. Watson? Will she be back soon?”

  A scowl darkened the expression on his face. “No.”

  “Is there a problem with her niece or the baby?”

  “Everyone’s fine. The problem is she now wants to stay and take care of her niece’s baby. She feels her family has to come first and her niece can’t find good arrangements for the baby. I know she’s right, but still—” He clamped his mouth closed on the rest of his words.

  Tory pushed to her feet. “What are you going to do now?”

  Slade stared at his daughter on the other side of the pond, his brows slashing downward. “I don’t know. I have to find another housekeeper, which I know won’t be easy. I felt so lucky when I found Mrs. Watson.”

  “I’ll be glad to watch Mindy until you get a new one.”

  “I can’t—” He stopped midsentence and looked back at Tory. “Are you sure you don’t mind? Because frankly, if you do, I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”

  “This past week with Mindy has been great. I enjoy the company and she loves working with the animals. She’s even taken to the cat and her new litter that lives in the barn.”

  “No wonder she’s been pestering me about getting a cat.”

  “She’s named all the kittens, and after feeding and grooming Mirabelle, that’s where she goes next to check up on them.”

  “I just found out yesterday about Mrs. Watson not returning. I haven’t had a chance to get in touch with the agency yet, but I will first thing tomorrow. I promise I’ll get someone as soon as possible. In the meantime, I’ll pay you for taking care of Mindy.”

  She could use the money, but for some reason she couldn’t find herself accepting payment for something she wanted to do. Taking care of Mindy was important to her—an act of love. “No. Mindy is giving me as much as I’m giving her.”

  “But—”

  A shout from across the pond snatched the rest of Slade’s protest. He whipped about, every line in his body taut.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Slade sprinted forward. Tory whirled around, her heart thumping against her chest. Mindy had fallen at the edge of the pond and now sat waist-deep in the water. Her scream of surprise turned to giggles as Laurie plopped down beside her and began splashing her.

  Slade slowed to a jog. The tension in his body eased. Tory scooped up two kitchen towels she’d brought, the only thing she had to dry off the girls with, and hurried after Slade, thanking God the whole way that the children were all right.

  When Slade halted near Mindy, she paused in her water fight with Laurie, looked at her friend, then they both began pelting Slade. The astonishment on his face made Tory laugh. She stood back from the girls, out of their reach, trying to contain her laughter. She couldn’t.

  Slade stepped back, tossing a glance over his shoulder at Tory. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Miss Alexander.” Water dripped from his face and hair, soaking his shirt. Beneath his mocked exasperation his eyes danced with amusement.

  “Yes, I am.” Tory brought her hand up to cover her mouth, but her laughter still leaked out.

  Slade huffed. “Melinda Marie Donaldson, you need to get out of that pond right this minute.”

  “Oh, Mindy, you’re in big trouble. Your dad used your full name.” Laurie stood.

  Mindy flung her hand across the water one last time, sending it spewing up toward her father. “I’m—stuck— Dad-dy.”

  While the last spray of water rolled in rivulets down his face, Slade’s mocking scowl crumbled into a look of concern. He hurried forward to pick up Mindy.

  The little girl held up her hand. “Help—me—st-and.”

  The water lapped over Slade’s tennis shoes as he took his daughter’s arm and assisted her to her feet. He whispered something into Mindy’s ear, then she said something to Laurie.

  When they all faced Tory at the side of the pond, soaking wet while she was dry, her laughter died on her lips. “Okay, what are you all up to?”

  “Nothing,” Slade said, all three of them heading toward Tory with determination in their expressions.

  She backed up, her heart beginning to race. The feeling of being cornered suddenly swamped her. “Stop right there.”

  No one did. Sweat popped out on Tory’s forehead. Her heartbeat accelerated even more. She continued to step away from the trio while trying to tamp down her fear. But she couldn’t control the trem
bling that shook her body, nor the perspiration rolling down her face. Tory’s gaze flitted from the group to the area around her. That was when she realized she was standing at the edge of the pond in some tall weeds, her tennis shoes stuck in the mud.

  Slade stopped, putting his arm out to halt Mindy and Laurie. “Girls, she’s our ticket back to the barn. We’d better take mercy on her.” He clasped Mindy’s shoulder. “And speaking of the barn, we need to gather everything up. Laurie has to be home by five and we’ll need to take care of our horses before we leave.”

  “Aw, Dad-dy.”

  “Scoot.” He turned Mindy toward the blanket and prodded her gently forward. When the children were halfway to the blanket and out of earshot, he asked, “Are you all right?”

  His questioning probe drilled through Tory’s defenses she’d thrown up. The beat of her heart slowed as she brought the gripped towel up to wipe her face. “Other than my shoes caked with mud, yes.”

  He took a step toward her.

  She tensed.

  He halted, his gaze softening. “Thank you for inviting us this afternoon.”

  Tory blinked at the sudden shift in the conversation. Relieved by it, she offered a tentative smile and said, “You’re welcome. Maybe Mindy can bring Laurie out some other time to ride with her.”

  “May I use one of those towels?” He held his hand out to her but didn’t move any closer.

  She looked down at the towels each crushed into a ball in her hands. A blush heated her cheeks. “Yes.” After tossing one to him, she released her death grip on the other one and relaxed her tense muscles.

  Slade wiped his face, then slung the towel over his shoulder and started back toward the blanket at a slow pace. Tory pulled her feet from the mud and followed behind him, her shoes making a squishing sound that announced her arrival. The two girls giggled when they saw her.

  She put her hands on her waist. “At least I don’t look like two drowned rats. Here. Use this to clean up.” Grinning, Tory flung the towel toward Mindy, then sank down by the basket to repack it.

  She’d overreacted at the edge of the pond. The children and Slade were only trying to include her in their playfulness. Mindy was important to her and Slade was important to the little girl. She would have to learn to relax better around him because if she was truthful with herself, she’d enjoyed herself today. For a brief time she’d experienced again what it must be like to have a family.

  * * *

  “Glad—Dad-dy out—of town.” Mindy took a big lick of her chocolate ice cream.

  Tory sat next to the little girl on the porch swing, taking her own lick of her single-scoop ice-cream cone. “You are? Why?”

  “Miss—you.”

  Her simple words tugged at Tory’s heart, making her eyes glisten. “I missed you, too. I’m glad you got to spend last night with me.” She bit into her cone, the crunching sound filling the silence.

  Mindy shifted so she could look up at Tory. “Me—too.”

  “How’s Mrs. Davies? You haven’t said anything about your new housekeeper.”

  The little girl pinched her mouth together. “Don’t—like.”

  “How come?”

  “Mean.” Mindy twisted back around and licked her ice cream, her shoulders hunched, her gaze intent on a spot on the ground.

  “Why do you say she’s mean?” Her stomach knotted with concern, Tory placed her ice-cream cone on the glass table next to the swing.

  Mindy wouldn’t look at her. She continued to eat her ice cream, her head down, her shoulders scrunched even more as though she were drawing in on herself.

  “Mindy?” Tory slid from the swing and knelt in front of the girl. Lifting the child’s chin, Tory asked, “What’s happened?”

  Tears welled in Mindy’s eyes. “She—doesn’t—like me.”

  Desperate to keep her voice calm, Tory took the child’s napkin and wiped the chocolate from her face. “Why do you say that?”

  “She—likes—to—uh—yell.” Her tears fell onto her lap. “Told—some—one on—phone—I’m—a cri-crip-pled—uh—re-tard.”

  Tory pried the ice cream cone from Mindy’s trembling fingers and laid it alongside hers on the glass table, then she scooped the child into her arms and held her tight against her. “You aren’t, sweetie. You’re a precious little girl who I admire and think is remarkable.”

  “You—do?” Mindy mumbled against Tory’s chest.

  Tory pulled back and cupped the child’s tear-stained face. “You’re such a courageous person. Not many people could have done what you’ve done as well. Look how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time.”

  Another tear slipped from Mindy’s eye, then another. “I—love—you.”

  Tory’s heart stopped beating for a split second, then began to pound a quick beat against her chest. Her own tears rose and filled her eyes. “I love you, too.” She drew the child to her, kissing the top of her head, the apple-fresh scent of Mindy’s shampoo permeating the air. “Have you told your father about Mrs. Davies?”

  Mindy shook her head.

  “He needs to know how you feel.”

  “She—was—the six-th—one—he—talked to. Hard—to find.”

  “Still, he needs to know. I can say something to him if you want.”

  Mindy straightened, knuckling away the tears. “Yes!” She covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes round. “Look.” Pointing to the table, she giggled.

  Melted chocolate ice cream pooled on the glass surface, nearly blanketing the whole table. Tory laughed, too. “I think we made a mess. I’ll go get something to clean it up with.”

  Tory hurried into the house and unrolled some paper towels, then retrieved a bottle of glass cleaner from under the sink. She started for the porch. The phone ringing halted her steps.

  Snatching up the receiver, she said, “Hello.”

  “Tory, this is Slade. How’s it going?”

  The warm sound of his deep, baritone voice flowed through her. Trying to ignore the slight racing of her heart, she answered, “Fine. Are you back?”

  “Yes. I thought I would pick up some pizzas for dinner. What do you think?”

  “Pizzas as in plural?”

  “Yep. Since we all like different kinds.”

  The implication of his words struck her. Over the past month she and Slade had gotten to know each other well—their likes and dislikes. She was even able to relax around him. “Sure. Mindy will be glad you’re home early.”

  “Tell her I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  When Tory hung up, her hand lingered on the receiver. When had Slade Donaldson become such a good friend? The question took her by surprise. Their relationship had changed quickly, something that further surprised her. She hadn’t let someone get this close, this fast, in a long time. She knew they both loved and cared for Mindy, but there was something else about their time together that went beyond the little girl.

  When Tory returned to the front porch, she found Mindy standing by the rail, staring down at the flower bed. Tory put down the glass cleaner and towels on the swing and came up beside the child.

  Mindy angled her head, glancing up at Tory. “Something—big—went—under—house. Uh—dark.” The child waved her hand toward the area behind a large azalea bush that had just lost its last red bloom. “What—is it?”

  “It’s not the cat?” Tory bent over the rail to glimpse into a black hole that led to the crawl space under the house.

  “No-oo.”

  Straightening, Tory shook her head. “I don’t know, then. Maybe a raccoon. Two summers ago I had a family move in under the house.”

  “With—bab-ies?”

  “Yep.”

  Mindy tried to stretch over the railing to get a better look. Tory had to hold her and pull her back when she nearly tumbled into the bush below.

  “I want—to see.” Mindy pouted, tiny lines crinkling her brow.

  “Not right now. Maybe some other time. Your dad is on his way w
ith dinner and we have a mess to clean up.”

  “He is?”

  “He’s bringing us pizza.”

  Mindy’s whole face brightened with a big grin. She moved toward the table, her foot dragging behind her more than usual, an indication the child was tired.

  “Maybe you should rest before he comes,” Tory said while sopping up the melted ice cream with the paper towels.

  Mindy grabbed the glass cleaner and sprayed it on the table. “I’m—oo-kay.”

  The way the child held her left hand curled against her body told Tory otherwise. “Sit. I’ll see to this.”

  Mindy fought a yawn. “Dad-dy—will be—here.”

  “He still has twenty minutes.”

  The child backed up against the swing and eased down onto its yellow cushion. She masked a big yawn while leaning back to rest her head. Her eyelids drooped, then snapped open. Tory finished cleaning the table, and by the time she gathered up the dirty paper towels to take back into the house, Mindy’s eyes were closed and her head was cocked to the side.

  Tory moved the child so she lay on the cushion. Brushing back Mindy’s dark brown hair from her face, Tory stared at the little girl who had become so important to her. The child had gotten up with her at dawn to help her take care of the horses and she hadn’t stopped the whole day. She’d been by her side while she’d cleaned out the stalls and fed the horses. She’d ridden with her and helped her fix lunch. Mindy filled her life with a renewed purpose.

  She’d missed Mindy this past week when Mrs. Davies had started to work for Slade. She’d only seen her when she had her two lessons. When Slade had asked her if Mindy could spend the night since Mrs. Davies couldn’t stay with her, she had jumped at the chance to have the girl with her for a full twenty-four hours. It had seemed like Christmas in June.

  One of Mindy’s legs began to slip off the swing. Tory caught it and tucked it back under her. The child stirred but continued to sleep.

  Again Tory brushed a stray strand of hair that had fallen forward behind Mindy’s ear. “I wish I was your mother,” she whispered. Tears crammed her throat. She wasn’t Mindy’s mother, would never be. The thought pierced her heart like a red-hot poker.