Who needed Pilates? she thought after she'd finally caught both boys.
She had to think Tanner could use a little quiet time and, heaven knew, she could.
"Guys, why don't we make a snack for your sister when she comes home from school?"
"Can I lick the spoon?" Tanner asked.
"That depends on what we fix. How about broccoli cookies?"
Tanner made a grossed-out face that was quickly copied by his brother. They adjourned to the kitchen to study available ingredients and finally reached a unanimous agreement to make Rice Krispies squares.
They were melting the marshmallows in the microwave when the front door opened. Caroline heard a thud that sounded like a backpack being dropped, then a young girl's voice.
"Grandma. Hey Grandma! Guess what? I got the highest score in the class on my math test today! And I did my book report on Superfudge but I only got ninety-five out of a hundred because Ms. Brown said I talked too fast and they couldn't understand me."
That fast-talking voice drew nearer and, a moment later, a girl appeared in the doorway, her long dark hair tangled and her blue eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Who are you? Where's my grandma?" she asked warily.
Rats. Hadn't Wade told her about Marjorie and Quinn?
"This is Care-line," Tanner announced. "She can make a block tower that's like a thousand feet high."
It was a slight exaggeration but Caroline decided to let it ride. "Hi. You must be Natalie. I'm Caroline Montgomery. I'm helping your dad with you and your brothers for a couple of days."
"Where's my grandma?" Natalie asked again, her brows beetled together as if she suspected Caroline of doing something nefarious to Marjorie so she could take her place making Rice Krispies squares and chasing two nonstop bundles of energy until her knees buckled.
Caroline wasn't quite sure how to answer. Why hadn't Wade told her about her grandmother's marriage? Did he have some compelling reason to keep it from the girl? She didn't want to go against his wishes but she really had no idea what those wishes were.
Finally she equivocated. "Um, she went on a little trip with a friend."
"Hey look, Nat. I have the mummy claw of death," Tanner climbed down from his chair and shook his arm at her.
"What did you do this time?" Nat asked.
"I burned me when I was roasting marshmallows on the stove. I only caused a little fire, though. Uncle Jake put yucky stuff on it and wrapped it up. Do you want to see it?"
She made a face. "You're such a dork," the girl said.
Tanner stuck his tongue out at his big sister. "You are."
"No, you are."
Caroline decided to step in before the conversation degenerated further. "Would you like to help us make these? We wanted to make a snack for you. They won't take long."
Natalie frowned. "My grandma always fixes me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich after school."
The truculence in her tone had Caroline gritting her teeth. "I can make you one of those if you'd prefer."
Natalie shrugged. "I'm not really hungry. Maybe later." She paused. "What friend did my grandma go on a trip with? Señora Cruz? She lives next door on the Luna Ranch and she's her best friend."
Caroline debated how to answer and finally settled on the truth. If Wade didn't want his daughter to know her grandmother had eloped, he should have taken the time to tell that to Caroline.
"No. Um, she went with my dad."
Natalie digested that. "Is your dad named Quinn?" she asked after a moment.
Okay, so Natalie apparently knew more about her grandmother's love life than her father had. "Yes. Do you know him?"
Natalie shrugged. "Grandma talked to him a lot on the phone. I got to talk to him once. He's funny."
Oh, her father could be a real charmer, no question about that.
"Where did they go?" Natalie asked.
Here, things grew a little tricky. "You'd probably better ask your dad about that."
"Will they be back by tomorrow?"
"I doubt that."
"But I have a Girl Scout meeting after school. Grandma was supposed to take me. We're making scrunchies. If she's not home by then, does that mean I can't go?"
Blast Quinn for putting her in this position, she thought again. For grabbing what he wanted without considering any of the consequences, as usual. She doubted he had spared a single thought for these motherless children and their needs when he'd charmed their grandmother into eloping with him.
"I can probably take you. We'll have to work out those details with your dad."
"I don't want to miss it," she said. "Grandma and me already bought the fabric."
"We can explain all that to your father. I'm sure there won't be a problem."
Natalie didn't look convinced but she didn't pursue the matter.
The rest of the afternoon and evening didn't go well. Tanner's pain medication started to wear off and he quickly tired of the limitations from wearing the gauze on his hand. He wanted to go outside in the sandbox, he wanted to play with Play-Doh, he even claimed he wanted to wash the dishes, that he loved to wash dishes, that he would die if he couldn't wash the dishes.
Caroline did her best to distract him and calm his fractious nerves, with little success. How could she blame him for his testiness? Burns could be horribly painful, especially for a child already off balance by the absence of his grandmother, his primary caregiver.
Cody, the toddler, also seemed to feel his grandmother's absence keenly as bedtime neared. He became more clingy, more whiny. Several times he wandered to the front door with a puzzled, sad look on his face and said "Gramma home?" until Caroline thought her heart would break.
Though she did help with Cody, Natalie added to the fun and enjoyment of the evening by bickering endlessly with Tanner and by correcting everything Caroline tried to do, from the way she added pasta to boiling water to how she made the crust on the apple pie she impulsively decided to make to the shade of crayons she picked to color Elmo and Cookie Monster.
By the time dinner was finished, Caroline thought she just might have to walk outside for a little scream therapy if she heard That's not how Grandma does it one more time.
At the same time, Caroline couldn't help but notice the girl never said anything about the way her father did things, only her grandmother. And none of the children seemed to find it unusual that they didn't see their father all evening long.
She had to wonder if this was the norm for them. Poor little lambs, if it was, to have lost a mother so suddenly and then to have a father too busy for them.
The only reference any of them made to their father came when Caroline found a cake in the refrigerator and asked Nat about it.
"Oh! That's my dad's cake. Today is his birthday and we forgot it!"
"I made a present," Tanner exclaimed. "It's in my room."
"Present. Present," Cody echoed and followed after his brother up the stairs.
"Why don't we save the pie for your dad's birthday?" Caroline suggested.
Natalie shrugged. "Okay. But grandma made the birthday cake and she makes really good cakes. He probably won't want any pie."
Caroline sighed but set her crooked-looking pie on the countertop to cool.
Despite Natalie's bossiness, she was a huge help when it came to following the boys' usual bedtime routine. She even helped Caroline tightly wrap a plastic bag on Tanner's hand so he could have a quick bath.
Her cooperative attitude disappeared quickly once the boys were tucked in their rooms, right around the time Caroline suggested it might be Natalie's bedtime, since by then it was after eight.
"I don't have a regular bedtime." Natalie focused somewhere above Caroline's left shoulder and refused to meet her gaze, a sure sign she was stretching the truth.
"Really?" Caroline asked doubtfully.
The girl shook her head, her disheveled hair swinging. "Nope. I just go to bed when I get tired. Like maybe ten, maybe eleven."
"Hmm
. Is that right?"
"Yeah. My grandma doesn't care what time I go to bed. Neither does my dad. He's usually out working anyway. Sometimes I even stay up and watch TV after he comes home and goes to bed."
Natalie said this with a such a sincere expression that Caroline had to hide a smile. She wasn't quite sure how to play this. She didn't want to call the girl a liar. Their relationship was tenuous enough right now. Natalie had made it plain she didn't like the way Caroline did anything, that she wanted her grandmother back. Caroline didn't want to damage what little rapport she'd worked so hard to build all evening.
On the other hand, she certainly couldn't allow the little girl to stay up all night for the sake of keeping the peace.
She pondered her options. "How about this?" she finally suggested. "I've got some great bath soap in my suitcase that smells delicious. You can use some while you take your bath and then I'll let you stay up and watch TV until nine. Does that sound like a deal?"
Natalie agreed so readily that Caroline realized she'd been conned. She could only hope Quinn didn't decide to take his new stepgrandaughter on as a protégé, the willing pupil he had always wanted. The partner in crime Caroline had always refused to become.
The storm that had threatened all afternoon had finally started around seven and Caroline discovered an odd kind of peace watching television with Natalie while the rain pattered against the window.
They hadn't been able to find anything good on TV so after her bath Natalie had put in an animated DVD—one of her grandma's favorites, she'd proclaimed.
If it gave the girl comfort, some connection to her grandmother, Caroline was fine with any movie. Before starting the DVD, Nat dug a couple of soft quilts out of an antique trunk in the corner.
"My mom made these," she said casually.
Caroline fingered the soft fabric, deep purples and blues and greens. "They're beautiful! She must have been very talented. Are you sure we're supposed to be using them?"
Nat nodded. "We use them all the time when we're watching TV. Grandma says it's like getting a hug from our mom every time we wrap up in them and it helps keep her a part of our family to use them instead of putting them away somewhere. That one you have is my dad's favorite."
Her chest ached a little to think of Wade Dalton finding some connection to his dead wife through one of the beautiful quilts she had made.
She pulled it over her and watched the movie and listened to the rain and wondered about this family whose lives Quinn's actions had thrust her into.
* * *
She was going to kill him.
Wade glanced at the clock glowing on the microwave in the dark kitchen and mentally groaned. Ten-thirty. He had left a stranger with his children—including a cranky five-year-old with a bad burn—for more than ten hours.
He deserved whatever wrath she poured out on him. He'd had every intention of being back at the house before the kids went to sleep. But since the rain had decided to hold out until dark, they had been able to bale the entire crop, even with their busted baler, and then had had to load it and move it to the hay sheds.
Before he'd realized it, the kids' bedtime had come and gone, and here he was creeping into his own house, tired and aching and covered in hay.
At least they had been able to take care of business before the rain had hit in earnest.
Agriculture had changed tremendously just in his lifetime, with computers and handheld stock scanners and soil sensors that took most of the guesswork out of irrigating crops.
But for all the improvements, he found it humbling that he was just as dependent on the weather as his great great grandfather had been a hundred years ago when he'd settled the Cold Creek.
Caroline probably wouldn't understand all that, though. All she knew was that he'd virtually abandoned his children with a stranger all day.
He'd be lucky if she was still here.
Now that was an odd thought. He didn't want her there. He would have vastly preferred things if she had stayed in California where she belonged. He was unnerved whenever he thought of her in his house, with her soft brown eyes and her vanilla-ice-cream scent and the unwelcome surge of his blood when he was around her.
The kitchen sparkled and smelled like apples and cinnamon, with no trace of the charred marshmallow smell Tanner had left behind. He found a small pile of birthday presents on the table along with a crooked-looking pie that looked divine.
Wade studied the pile, guilt surging through him. The day had been so crazy he hadn't given his birthday much thought at all and certainly hadn't considered that his children might want to share it with him.
They had even made him a pie. Apple, his favorite. His stomach growled—Caroline's delicious soup had been a long time ago—and he wanted to eat the entire pie by himself.
He almost grabbed a fork but stopped himself. He had to face the music first and apologize to Caroline for dumping his kids on her all day.
He actually heard music coming from the great room. That wasn't the music he needed to face but at least it gave him a clue where to find her. He followed the sound, his shoulders knotted with tension at the confrontation he expected and deserved.
In the doorway to the room, he frowned. The menu to a Disney DVD was playing its endless loop of offerings but the room was dark except for the light from the television set. At first he didn't think anyone was in the room, but once his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw that both couches were occupied. Nat was stretched out on one and Caroline took the other, and both of them were sound asleep.
He studied them for a moment, noting Nat had pulled out Andrea's quilts. Did she miss her mother as much as he did? he wondered.
She stirred a little but didn't wake when he scooped her up and started to carry her back to her room. She was growing up, he thought with a pang in his chest. She was heavier even than she'd been the last time he'd carried her to bed.
It seemed like only yesterday she'd been a tiny little thing, no bigger than one of the kittens out in the barn. Now she was on her way to becoming a young lady.
Another few years and she'd be a teenager. The thought sent cold chills down his spine. How the hell was he going to deal with a teenaged daughter? He had a hard enough time with an eight-year-old.
He pulled back her comforter and laid her on her bed, then studied her there in the moonlight.
She looked so much like her mother.
The thought didn't have the scorching pain he used to have whenever he thought of Andi, taken from him so unexpectedly. That raw, sucking wound had mellowed over the last year or so until now it was a kind of dull ache. He was always aware of it throbbing there, but the pain and loss hadn't knocked him over for a while.
He turned to go but Nat's voice, gritty with sleep, stopped him by the doorway.
"Daddy?"
He paused and turned around. "Yeah. I'm home now. Go on back to bed, sunshine."
"You never call me sunshine anymore."
"I just did, didn't I?"
She gave a sleepy giggle then rolled over.
He watched for a few more moments to make sure she stayed asleep. He wasn't avoiding Caroline, he assured himself.
Finally, he forced himself to walk back down the stairs to the great room.
His houseguest was also still asleep, with her knees curled up and her hands pillowing her cheek. A lock of hair had fallen across her cheek. He almost tucked it back behind her ear but managed to stop himself just in time.
What the hell was wrong with him? he thought, appalled. It seemed wrong, somehow, to stand here watching her while she slept. She wouldn't appreciate it, would probably see it as some kind of invasion of her privacy. He imagined California life coaches were probably big on things like healthy personal space and respecting others' boundaries.
He had to wake her up, though he was loathe to do it for myriad reasons.
"Ms. Montgomery? Caroline?"
Those incredibly long lashes fluttered and she opened her e
yes. She gazed at him blankly for a moment then he saw recognition click in. "You're back. What time is it?"
Here we go. Lecture time. He sighed. "Quarter to eleven."
She sat up and tucked that errant strand behind her ear without any help from him. "My word, you keep long hours."
"Show me a rancher who doesn't and I'll show you a Hollywood wannabe." He shrugged. "This is a crazy time of year, trying to bring in the last crop of hay for the season and get everything ready for snow."
"The children had a little birthday celebration planned for you. We made a pie and everything. Nat said you don't like pie as much as cake so I guess you have your choice now."
He scratched his cheek. "Did Nat happen to mention I don't like birthdays much at all? And I can't say this one is shaping up to be one of my best."
She smiled a little and he was struck by the picture she made there, with her hair messy and feet bare and her eyes all soft and sleepy.
"You've got an hour left. You should make the most of it."
He had a sudden insane image of pressing her back against that couch cushion and kissing that crooked little smile until neither of them could think straight.
Where the hell did that come from? He could feel himself color and had to hope it was too dark for her to see—and that one of her life-coaching skills didn't involve mind reading.
Wherever the thought had come from, now that he'd unleashed it, he couldn't stop wondering how she would taste, whether her skin could possibly be as soft as it looked.
He wasn't going to find out, damn it. He jerked his mind away from those forbidden waters and answered her.
"My big plans include eating most of that birthday pie and then hitting the sack."
Alone, as he'd been for the last two years.
"What about the children?"
"I guess I could save a slice or two for them."
"They were disappointed that they didn't see you before they went to bed so they could give you your presents."
Because he felt guilty, he responded more harshly than he would have otherwise. "This is a working cattle ranch. The kids understand I have responsibilities. I'll try to see them at breakfast and we can open the presents then."
Light the Stars Page 5