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СКАЧАТЬ time to swing by on your way home?”

      “I guess.” He frowned. “You ever going to make him pay his bill?”

      “That horse of his is all he has left of his farm. The odd bag of feed won’t kill me.”

      “You, no. Your business, yeah. I lose this job and I won’t be able to pay my phone bill.”

      “Your concern is touching,” Seth said wryly. “But I’m not going anywhere. You won’t, either—” he lifted an eyebrow at the glass cleaner in Bradley’s hand “—as long as you do your job.”

      Bradley grinned, snatched up a rag and flicked at the countertop while humming in a falsetto tone.

      “Smart-ass,” Seth muttered, and continued on to the office, a half-wood, half-glass corner structure left from the building’s firehouse days. A battered metal desk took up one half of the room, and waist-high shelving lined the other. In the center stood a rickety round table Seth had set up as a homework station for the kids. The school bus dropped them off about half past three and they were stuck at the store until six, when Seth closed for the day. They hadn’t been thrilled with the arrangement at first, but they’d settled into a routine—snack and playtime until four thirty, homework till closing. Most days they finished their assignments before piling into Seth’s truck for the short trek home, which meant that once dinner and cleanup were behind them, they could veg in front of the TV until tuck-in time. Traditionally, tuck-in time included hearing a chapter from whatever book they’d voted Seth should read them. Every now and then they veered off course and had a sing-along. Grace insisted she needed the practice for sixth-grade chorus tryouts.

      Never mind she was still in fourth.

      “Where is it?” Grace’s voice was thick with tears. “Tell me!”

      Seth stalked into the office wearing his best “heads are about to roll” expression. “All right, what’s the problem here?”

      “I told you,” Grace cried. She had both palms on the table and was leaning toward her brother, who sat steadily coloring, a fistful of crayons in one hand and half a chocolate bar in the other.

      Dammit, Bradley. No wonder they loved his part-timer.

      Grace opened her mouth again and Seth held up a finger. “I’d like to hear it from Travis.”

      With a beleaguered exhale, his daughter pushed upright and crossed her arms over her chest. Seth waited. Grace fumed. Travis poked the green crayon back into his fist and plucked out a yellow.

      “Travis,” Seth prodded.

      His seven-year-old looked up from what appeared to be a drawing of a food fight. Chocolate ringed his mouth and it was all Seth could do not to grin. That would be fatal, though. Grace was already convinced Seth loved her brother more.

      “Hey, Dad,” Travis said brightly, as if he hadn’t just been trading insults with his sister.

      “Hey,” Seth drawled. “We’re looking for a purple magic marker. Have you seen it?”

      Travis blinked but remained mute, his normal MO when talking would mean telling a lie. Seth gritted his teeth around a sigh. Either Travis had the marker, or he knew Grace had it and didn’t want to tattle. Lately G had taken to “losing” things in a bid for attention. Or maybe she just wanted to drive her dad crazy.

      She was doing a good job of it.

      Thing was, he could never tell when the tears and the drama were real. G’s pediatrician back in State College, along with Seth’s mother and his good friend Parker, who operated a nearby greenhouse and had her own challenges with a daughter who’d just turned ten, had advised him not to sweat it, assuring him it was just a phase. Decent advice, except that a week ago he’d spotted his checkbook in the recycling bin. Hard not to sweat that.

      He’d reasoned, scolded, pleaded and suspended all kinds of privileges. He understood his daughter’s frustration. Still, there had to be a better way for her to express it.

      Back to the matter at hand. His son had resumed his coloring, the tilt of his white-blond head casual, his grip on the crayon anything but. “Travis isn’t talking, G. How about we all look for it together?”

      “I don’t have time,” she whined. “I need it now.”

      “Can you use a different color?”

      She dropped her arms and snatched up her drawing, a tidy rendition of a rainbow arching behind a soggy pair of trees and a horse. She stabbed a finger at the innermost arch of the rainbow, currently colorless, and shot him a look that screamed, Duh!

      He surveyed the markers scattered across the table. “If you mix red and blue, you get purple. Maybe use red, then color over it with blue?”

      “Good idea,” Bradley said behind him. G’s shoulders lost some of their height, though she shot a dirty look at her brother.

      “Whatever,” she muttered. She grabbed the red marker and dropped into her chair.

      Seth turned away and bumped knuckles with Bradley. “Remind me to give you a raise.”

      “You can’t afford it.” He shoved a message pad at Seth. As per usual, there were more doodles than writing on the paper. “Pete Lowry called again. He needs another payment for the work he did on the truck.”

      This was the work he’d done the last time Bertha was in the shop.

      “I’ll take care of it.” Somehow. Seth noticed Bradley fighting a grin. “Something else on your mind?”

      “Olivia Duncan’s on the phone again. Want me to take a message?”

      Seth pictured the curvy brunette with the open smile and kind eyes. Last time they’d talked, she’d offered to arrange a picnic lunch for Seth and the kids. Sandwiches and Frisbee by the lake.

      “You three should enjoy the beach more often,” she’d said. Like a normal family, she’d meant.

      He glanced over his shoulder at his kids, one secretive, the other sullen. Thought of the hell they’d been through the past few years.

      They could use some normal.

      His brain flashed from Olivia to Ivy, whose elegance, beauty, stubbornness and lusty sense of humor were far from ordinary. Ivy. Who’d made it clear she’d put up with children only if they arrived on a school bus and left the same way, in ninety minutes or less.

      He didn’t want to date anyone else. Hadn’t wanted to date at all after his divorce, until he met her. But he had to make it clear—to himself and to her—that what little they had wasn’t working anymore.

      “No.” Seth took off his cap and tossed it at his desk, rolled his shoulders and headed for the door. “I got this.”

      * * *

      IVY SWEPT THE rubber currycomb over the stallion’s gleaming coat, over and over, each circular stroke carrying her closer to calm. She still had a long way to go, though, because she hadn’t quite managed to convince herself that Seth СКАЧАТЬ