Reuniting His Family. Jean Gordon C.

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СКАЧАТЬ with her for the afternoon.”

      “And Jack?”

      “He got a towing call about an hour ago. He should be back any time now.”

      Rhys scrutinized her. “So you had to come and cover for them.”

      “I volunteered.” Her internship wasn’t just a job. She cared about the children. The people she worked with did, too. “The Hills didn’t want to cancel and disappoint you and the boys.”

      “Ms. Delacroix, look at how strong I am.” Dylan entered the room, lifting the gallon jug of milk for her to see and filling the silence that had stretched between her and his father.

      She felt the pain that flickered across the man’s face at his younger son turning to her, not him, for approval.

      Owen followed with a plate of four cookies and cups. “Dylan, put the milk on the table before you drop it.” He placed the cookies on the coffee table next to the jug. “Ms. Delacroix said we could only have one each so we don’t spoil our appetite for dinner. We’re having lasagna with meatballs.”

      “We certainly wouldn’t want to spoil our appetites for that,” Rhys said.

      “I told Mrs. Hill that it’s your favorite,” Owen said.

      “Me, too,” Dylan said, grabbing his cookie and jumping up on the couch.

      Rhys gave the boys a thumbs-up, sat on the couch next to, but not touching, his youngest son and poured him a cup of milk.

      It was good to see Dylan interacting with his father. Maybe she’d imagined Rhys’s resentment earlier. It might have been nerves. As stoic as he seemed, Rhys Maddox was human.

      “Come on, Ms. Delacroix,” Owen said, sidling up next to his father to make room for her on the couch. “There’s space for you, too.”

      “In a minute. I need to check the lasagna.” And give your father a moment with you. “I’d better stir the sauce and meatballs, too. I told Mr. Hill I wouldn’t let it burn.”

      “We wouldn’t want burned sauce, would we, guys?” Rhys asked.

      “No!” the boys shouted.

      From the stove, she could see directly across the kitchen and dining room to where they were in the living room. “I’ll be right back.”

      Rhys nodded in her direction as he listened to Owen give a play-by-play of baking the cookies with Mrs. Hill.

      In the kitchen, Renee lifted the lid of the saucepan and breathed in the spicy tomato smell. After giving the sauce a stir, she looked over her shoulder into the living room. Owen was still talking. She opened the oven and checked the lasagna. Silence from the other room made her spin around, heart pounding. The oven door snapped shut. They were still there. Relief flooded her. Of course they were. Rhys Maddox wouldn’t do anything stupid to jeopardize his regaining custody.

      “Everything looks good,” she said as she reentered the living room. “The timer’s set for the lasagna. Mr. Hill should be back by the time it’s done.”

      “Eat your cookie, Ms. Delacroix,” Owen said. “We want to show Dad our room and stuff.”

      “Yeah,” Dylan said. “Mrs. Hill said you’d stay right with us.”

      His father stiffened against the back of the couch.

      “I can wait on the cookie. I know you’re anxious to show your dad your things.”

      Owen leaped off the couch and grabbed his father’s hand, pulling him toward the stairway. “Our room is upstairs.”

      “Wait for your brother,” Rhys said.

      Dylan slid off the couch. “I’ll show you, Ms. Delacroix.” He slipped his hand in hers.

      Rhys’s shoulders slumped for a moment. Straightening, he said, “Lead the way Owen.”

      Upstairs in the boys’ room, Renee relaxed as they caught their father up on what they were doing in their lives. Their exuberant—and their father’s more restrained—joy flowed over her, drawing her in.

      “And this is my shirt drawer,” Owen said once he ran out of other things to show his father.

      The sound of the stove timer startled Renee away from the adoring grin on Rhys’s face that had captivated her. He was a different person around Owen and Dylan.

      “Hello? Where is everyone?” came a voice from below before she could excuse herself to check the pasta.

      “That’s Mr. Hill. I’ll tell him you’re here, Dad.” Owen raced down the stairs with Dylan shadowing him.

      Their father stopped halfway down. “Before we have dinner, I have a question.”

      “Certainly, Mr. Maddox.” She reassumed her professional demeanor that she’d let slip watching him and the boys.

      “If we’re going to be doing this visitation stuff...” He waved down the stairs. “Can you call me Rhys?”

      “I can.” Despite her best effort, she’d already started thinking of him as Rhys. “And please call me Renee, except in front of the boys.” Not that she expected to have much contact with him and his sons once she started her new job a week from Monday.

      “Gotcha,” he said with the same smile that had softened her when he’d used it with his sons upstairs. The smile that cracked his armor and showed the dichotomy of Rhys Maddox—both the off-putting, cold, aloof male and the adoring father who tugged at her heartstrings.

      Her departure from CPS couldn’t come too soon.

       Chapter Three

      Rhys put his washed lunch dishes in the drainer and wiped the table down for the second time today. After three days of rain and being trapped inside—except for a couple times when the clouds had broken and he’d casually driven by the Hills’ in hopes of catching a glimpse of Owen and Dylan—he had to get out.

      He tossed the dishcloth into the sink. No, it hadn’t been casual, but more stalker-like. He’d better be careful or he could mess things up. It didn’t help that it had been almost a week and he hadn’t heard from Neal Hazard about the job, nor had he heard from any of the places he’d applied to online.

      The only bright spot had been his conversation with Pastor Connor. He had given him more details about the Building Bridges program and said that Owen and Dylan were two of the children the local school district had recommended for The Kids Place program. Connor had also asked Rhys if he’d be interested in volunteering at the group’s weekly meetings and events. Several of the other children recommended had no male role models in their families. Flattered that Pastor Connor would think him role model material, Rhys said he’d consider it and let Connor know before the meeting of volunteers and staff next week at the Christian Action Coalition office. While he wasn’t sold that it was entirely his thing, it would give him more time with his sons.

      Rhys СКАЧАТЬ