First Lady

by Philips, Susan Elizabeth

  “No big deal,” he said more quietly. “Got it?”

  She stared at him.

  Her pink overalls would never be the same, and she'd lost one of her sneakers. He quickly slipped off the other and pitched it into the trees.

  Bickering female voices were coming from the covered bridge. Now he was in for it. He thought fast. “We're going back in that water.”

  “Gah?”

  He stepped out of his own sodden shoes, returned her to the crook of his arm, and walked back into the river.

  She buried her face in his shirt.

  “Don't be a pansy.”

  She looked up and gave him a four-tooth grin.

  “That's more like it, you little she-devil.”

  But when he tried to lower her into the water, she stiffened and dug her fingers into his arm.

  “Relax, will you? I'm not going to put your face in.”

  “Nuh-nuh-nuh!”

  It didn't take a degree in child psychology to translate that one. He realized he was going to have to do this with her, just as he'd done it with all his sisters. With a sigh of resignation, he put her to his shoulder and sank down into the muddy river.

  She drew back and beamed at him. Oh, man, she was going to be a killer someday, with those baby blues and melty smiles. “Yeah, yeah. Save it for somebody who cares.”

  She smacked his jaw with the flat of her hand, then turned and smacked the water. It splashed in his face. He blinked it away and lowered her into the current.

  “What are you doing?” Nell came charging out of the bridge, a pregnant commando wearing khaki shorts, a blue maternity top trimmed with daisies, and small white sandals. Tendrils of hair as golden brown as summer wheat flew around her flushed cheeks, and those amazing blue eyes, exactly the same color as the sky, were blazing. “Get the baby out of that dirty water right now!”

  She flew down the slope. “Children can get typhoid from river water!”

  He glanced down at the Demon, who seemed to be having a pretty good time as long as he didn't let her sink too low. “I don't think typhoid is too common in West Virginia.”

  Lucy emerged from the bridge and stared down at them.

  Nell stopped at the edge of the river, hand to chest, face pale. He realized she was genuinely upset and wondered how she'd react if she knew he'd almost let the baby drown. “Will you calm down, for pete's sake? She's fine.”

  “She's fully dressed!”

  “Yeah, well, I'm a guy. Guys don't think about things like that.”

  “You're fully dressed!”

  “The whole thing was sort of an impulse.”

  She looked down at his muddy shoes lying on the bank. “I'll say.”

  He went on the offensive. “I slipped and got my shoes wet. Then I figured, what the hell?”

  “She's going to catch cold.”

  “It's got to be eighty.” He pulled the baby from the water and stood.

  “Nuh!” She gave a shriek of protest, then began to twist, trying to get back in the water.

  “Distract her, or you're really in for it.” Lucy called down from the top of the slope.

  Her shrieks were building in volume. “How am I supposed to do that?” he asked.

  “She likes animal sounds, especially cows. Moo.”

  He shot Lucy a disgusted look, then shoved the screaming baby toward Nell. “Here. Distract her.”

  Nell clasped her arms behind her back and stepped away. “I don't know how.”

  The Demon's fists were going everywhere and she'd started to kick. Shit. He turned around and carried her back into the water.

  He'd be damned if he'd moo.

  First Lady

  8

  Mat gazed down at the naked baby playing with his toes in the bottom of the shower stall. How had this happened! How had he ended up taking a shower with a baby? Now, taking a shower with Nell, that would be different.

  He belatedly remembered that big, pregnant belly and shook off the image. They were still parked by the covered bridge, and at this rate, they weren't going to make it to Iowa before the Demon hit puberty. He slicked the last of the soap from his chest and decided he'd been caught in one of those nightmares where he was trying to get somewhere, but no matter what he did, he couldn't make it.

  A frightening thought struck him. First he'd acquired two kids. Now he'd picked up a woman. It was as if some satanic force were building a family around him.

  “How are you doing in there?” Nell called through the door.

  The Demon bent forward and sank all four of her teeth into the top of his foot. He yelped, wedged himself down to scoop her up. “You little—”

  “We have no idea what kind of microorganisms were swimming in that river water,” Nell said. “Are you using lots of soap on her?”

  He shoved her under the spray. “A whole bar.”

  “You'd better not be trying any funny business with her in there, Jorik!” Lucy exclaimed. “I mean it!”

  “Hush, Lucy,” Nell said. “Don't make him any madder than he already is.”

  The Demon was starting to sputter, so he pulled her out from under the water, then tucked her against his bare chest. She went after one of his nipples with her fingernails.

  “Ouch!”

  “You're hurting her!” Lucy shouted. “I know you are!”

  “I'm not hurting her!”

  The Demon didn't like anybody yelling but herself, and she started that lip-quiver stuff.

  “I'm immune,” he growled down at her.

  The quiver disappeared and a beamy smile took its place. He could swear he saw adoration glimmering in those blue eyes, and every bit of it was directed at him. “Forget it. I can't be bought.”

  She gave a delighted baby vampire squeal, turned her head into his chest, and bit.

  “Damn it!”

  Just then the shower spray faded to a trickle. He'd been in such a hurry to get away from Sandy's place that he hadn't bothered to fill the water tank all the way, and last night at the campground he'd been too preoccupied with his bottle of Jim Beam to finish the job.

  “None of this would be happening if you hadn't taken the baby swimming in that dirty river,” Nell felt duty-bound to remind him, sounding just like a nagging wife.

  He spun the Demon so her teeth were facing outward and squeezed himself through the tiny shower door and out into the minuscule bathroom. As he reached for a towel, he banged his elbow into the wall. “Damn it!”

  “Two damn its already,” Nell said from the other side. “It doesn't seem to be going very well.”

  “If you don't want to see a naked man, you'd better get back from that door.” He wrapped the towel around the Demon, opened the door, and set her on the floor outside. “She's all yours.”

  He shut the door in the face of Nell's amusement. The baby immediately began to howl.

  “She wants you,” Nell said.

  “Tell her to take a number.”

  He heard something that sounded like a laugh and he smiled—his first of this miserable day. As soon as he had the towel anchored around his hips, he opened the door and stepped out.

  “Gah!” The baby reached up for him, her own towel still draped over her head. She yelped as he moved past her to the back and pushed the sliding door shut.

  He heard a scurrying sound and knew she was crawling after him.

  “Come here!” Lucy exclaimed. “You don't like him. He's a jerk.”

  Apparently the Demon didn't agree because a small head butted into the door he had just closed. There was a blessed moment of silence, and then all hell broke loose.

  The eruption wasn't the pathetic whimpering of an upset baby. Instead, it was the outraged howl of a female who'd been denied her man. He whipped off his towel in frustration. Why couldn't Sandy have given birth to a boy baby?

  Nell began to moo.

  * * *

  Once Button had been cleaned up, she needed to be fed, then they had to wait for her stomach to settle. N
ealy watched from Mabel's window as Mat paced along the road, the soles of his shoes attacking the pavement, a deep frown of displeasure creasing his forehead. Every once in a while, he'd pick up a stone and hurl it into the river. Once he actually dropped down on the side of the road and performed a long series of pushups. His impatience annoyed her. Why couldn't he just enjoy the day?

  As Lucy settled Button back into her car seat, Nealy opened the door and stepped out. “I think we can give it a try now.”

  “It's about time.”

  “There's no reason to be so grouchy.”

  He pushed past her—pushed past the First Lady of the United States!—and ducked into the motor home.

  “Da!” Button squealed from her car seat.

  He looked so ill-tempered that Nealy hurried forward. “Maybe I should drive. You've got road rage written all over you.”

  “Maybe you should sit down and watch for signs so we can get back on a decent highway.” He squeezed behind the wheel.

  “I'm bored,” Lucy said. “I want to go to a mall.”

  “If I hear another word, I swear I'll tie up all three of you, throw you in the back, and lock the door.”

  Nealy looked at Lucy. Lucy looked at her. They had a moment of silent communication. Only Button was happy. She finally had her man back in sight.

  They rode in silence for twenty miles, past tobacco fields, hardscrabble farms, and several tiny hamlets. They were passing through a slightly larger town not far from the interstate when Nealy heard an ominous thud coming from Mabel's front end. Mat immediately slowed, applied the brakes, and turned the wheel to the right, only to have it fail to respond. He cursed.

  “What's wrong?”

  “I've lost steering.”

  “I told you this thing was a pile of junk,” Lucy offered unnecessarily from the back.

  Mat maneuvered the vehicle off onto the shoulder at the very edge of the parking lot for an ancient drive-in restaurant called Hush Pups.

  “Cool. Can I get a Slurpee?”

  “Hush, Lucy. What do you think is wrong, Mat?”

  “You know that engine pinging that was bothering me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don't think this is it.”

  “Oh.”

  He didn't move, just stared through the windshield. “Busted tie rod. Something like that.”

  He looked so forlorn that she reached over and gave his arm an impulsive squeeze. He turned his head and studied her. Their eyes met, and something hot leaped between them. Embarrassed, she slowly removed her hand. Her palm felt warm where she'd touched him.

  She rose and turned to Lucy. “Let's go spend Mat's money on junk food while he figures out what's wrong with Mabel.”

  Hush Pups didn't offer the luxury of indoor seating, and Nealy camped out with the girls at one of three metal tables just beyond the parking lot, where they watched the tow truck haul both Mat and Mabel away. While Lucy ate, Nealy chased after Button. Eventually, however, the baby grew tired and curled up for a nap on the quilt.

  “I'm totally bored.”

  “Why don't you go explore? Just check back.”

  Lucy gazed at her little sister, then studied Nealy suspiciously.

  Nealy smiled and spoke quietly. “I'll watch her every minute.”

  Lucy's brown-painted lips did their best to sneer. “Like I'd care.”

  “Oh, you'd care, all right. Give it up, Lucy. The day Button got you for a big sister was the luckiest day of her life.”

  Lucy blinked and turned away, but not before Nealy caught a glimpse of the vulnerable fourteen-year-old who lived beneath that tough facade.

  After she left, Nealy stretched out her legs on the quilt, propped her back against one leg of the metal table, and contented herself watching the life of the small West Virginia town pass by.

  She'd just started to doze when an ancient red Olds-mobile pulled into the parking lot and Mat climbed out of the driver's side, looking even more ominous than he had earlier. “I was right. It's a busted tie rod, and it won't be ready until tomorrow morning.” He stopped next to her. “Mabel's parked at the garage, which seems to be part of the county junkyard. There's some kind of landfill next to it, and the whole place smells like a Mafia burial ground.”

  “So we can't spend the night there.”

  He slumped down into the chair across from her. “There's a Holiday Inn about five miles away.”

  He looked like a man in desperate need of a drink, and she pushed what was left of her watery Coke at him. “I'll get you a hamburger.”

  “See if you can find one with some nice E. coli tucked inside.”

  “I believe it comes with the order.”

  He smiled, then fastened his lips around her straw and took a sip. She'd expected him to drink from the rim, and she stared at him for a moment. He set down the paper cup. Something crackled between them, an awareness that made her edgy and self-conscious.

  She'd never met anyone who emanated so much male sexual energy. She saw it in his eyes, the set of his shoulders, the curl of his fingers. She heard it in that blast-furnace voice. It was almost as if he'd managed to escape female influence. He belonged on the back of a bucking horse, behind the wheel of a ship, building roads, or leading a military charge.

  She shook off her fanciful thoughts and headed for the drive-in window. She knew nothing about men like Mat Jorik, and furthermore, she didn't intend to learn.

  Lucy returned just as Mat finished eating. She watched Button try to crawl up his leg into his lap, then looked over at the ancient Oldsmobile. “Couldn't you get a Camero or something?”

  “They were fresh out.”

  Button spent the ride to the garage attempting to catch Mat's attention by alternately gurgling at him and shrieking. He determinedly ignored her. When they reached the garage, Nealy discovered the adjoining junkyard was just as smelly as he'd indicated. She was relieved when they'd finished loading everything they needed into the car and set off for the Holiday Inn.

  The desk clerk regarded Mat uncertainly when he asked for two rooms as far away from each other as possible. Nealy had no intention of taking sole responsibility for the girls, and she quickly stepped forward. “Don't pay any attention to him. He's a big kidder.”

  They ended up with adjoining rooms.

  As Nealy set her satchel on the bed, she tried to figure out what was missing. And then she realized it was the smell of fresh paint. Every hotel in the world wanted to put its best foot forward when the President or First Lady stayed there, and this nearly always meant redecorating the largest suite. Nealy had fallen asleep with a headache from paint fumes more times than she cared to remember.

  She saw Lucy standing at the window, gazing at the pool below. “Why don't you go swim?” She checked the floor for hazards, then set Button down on it.

  “I don't have a suit.”

  “Wear what you have on. You can wash it out when you come in.”

  “Maybe.”

  Nealy realized Button had disappeared, and she rushed through the open door into the adjoining room, then stopped as she saw Mat standing on the other side of the king-sized bed with his head buried in the T-shirt he was pulling off. Why couldn't he keep his clothes on?

  He had exactly the sort of chest that she'd always found most attractive. Broad at the shoulder, narrow at the waist. A little dark hair. Muscles that were well defined but not bulky. She was very much enjoying the sight until she realized he was watching her.

  The corner of his mouth kicked up. “See anything you like?”

  She searched her mind to find a plausible excuse for staring at him. “Didn't you just put that shirt on after your shower?”

  “It got greasy when I was checking out Mabel. And why do you care?”

  “Because... we all seem to be running out of clothes.”

  “You can do our laundry tomorrow.”

  “Me?” She'd never done laundry in her life. “Not part of my job description. I'm the nanny. Remember
?”

  “Da!”

  He winced, then frowned down at the baby, who had a death grip on his jeans.

  “She's too young to know what that word means,” Nealy said. “Why don't you just pick her up? I'm sure if you showed her a little attention, she'd be content to go off and play.”

  “Forget it.”

  “Try playing hard to get, Button. Men don't like it when you're too obvious. At least that's what I've heard.”

  “No personal experience?”

  She made a noncommittal murmur, braced herself, then leaned down to pick Button up. But the baby wanted Mat, and as Nealy rose, she lunged toward him and grabbed his shirt, throwing Nealy off balance. “Oops. Sorry.”

  He caught her automatically, and his chest felt warm against her side. She'd spent so many years suppressing her sexual feelings that denial had become automatic, but this contact was a shock treatment, reminding her she was still a woman.

  He didn't move away. Instead, a slow smile caught the edges of his mouth and traveled right up into those gray eyes. “I thought you didn't believe in being obvious.”

  Was he coming on to her? No one ever came on to Cornelia Case. When she'd been in college, she'd had to ask boys out herself because they were too intimidated to approach the daughter of the Vice President. And they were definitely too intimidated by all the Secret Service hovering around to try to get her into bed. Even so, she was certain she could have managed a few sexual encounters here and there, but she hadn't done it.

  From her earliest years, she'd been raised with the constant reminder that the smallest misstep on her part would bring disgrace to her father. Eventually, her caution had become so ingrained that she lived a shadow life, suppressing her natural curiosity, her sense of adventure, her sexuality, suppressing so much that would have helped her figure out who she was. When she'd met Dennis, she'd been a virgin.

  For once, the memory of Dennis didn't bring her pain. Maybe time was finally starting to do its healing job, or maybe she was simply too distracted by the man standing before her.

  The baby lunged again. Mat shifted his weight against Nealy, then looked at her oddly.

  “I—I'll take her down to the pool,” she said.