Patrick's Destiny. Sherryl Woods

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СКАЧАТЬ water was that effective on a beer, it wouldn’t take much longer than that to disable a boy this kid’s size and have him sinking like a rock straight to the bottom. He shuddered just thinking about the tragedy this accident could have become.

      The kid watched him warily. “Don’t blame Ms. Newberry,” he pleaded. “I tripped. It wasn’t her fault.”

      Patrick could have debated the point. Who in their right mind brought a bunch of rambunctious children onto a dock—a clearly marked private dock—without sufficient supervision? He scowled once more in the woman’s direction, noting that she’d apparently recovered from her bout of tears and was carefully herding the rest of the children back onto dry land. Her soft voice carried out to him as she instructed them firmly to stay put. He could have told her it was a futile command. Children as young as these were inevitably more adventurous than either sensible or obedient. Besides, they outnumbered her, always a risky business when dealing with kids.

      “Ms. Newberry’s going to be real mad at me,” the boy beside him confided gloomily. “She told us not to run. We were supposed to stay together.”

      Patrick bit back a smile at the futility of that order. “How come you didn’t listen?”

      “’Cause I was in a hurry,” he replied impatiently.

      Patrick understood the logic of that. He also thought he recognized the kid. It was Matt Foster’s boy. Matt rushed through life the same way, always at full tilt and without a lick of common sense. “You’re Ricky Foster, aren’t you?”

      “Uh-huh,” he said, head bobbing. “How come you know that?”

      “Your dad and I went to school together. I’d better call him and tell him what’s happened,” Patrick said. “You need to get home and into some dry clothes.”

      “I’ll see that he gets home,” the woman in charge of the group informed him stiffly.

      “You sure you can handle that and keep an eye on the others, too?” Patrick inquired, nodding toward the brood that was already racing off in a dozen different directions.

      Muttering a very unladylike oath under her breath, she charged back to shore and rounded up the children for a second time. She looked as if she’d like nothing better than to tie each and every one of them to a hitching post.

      Patrick took pity on her and carried the still-shivering Ricky back to join the others. With two adults presenting a united front, maybe they’d have a shot at averting any more disasters.

      “Let’s take ’em all over to Jess’s where they can warm up while you call Matt Foster and get him down here,” Patrick suggested. He headed off in that direction without waiting for a reply. A firm grip on his arm jerked him to a stop.

      “I don’t think a bar is an appropriate place for a group of five-year-olds,” she told him.

      He frowned down at her. “You have a better suggestion?”

      “We could take them back to the school. That’s what we should do,” she said, though without much enthusiasm.

      Patrick understood her reluctance. The school’s principal, Loretta Dowd, had to be a hundred years old by now, and she wasn’t known for her leniency. Patrick knew that from his own bitter experience. He’d been every bit as rambunctious as Ricky at his age. There would be hell to pay for this little incident.

      “Miss Dowd knows about this outing, then?” he asked, guessing that it had been an impromptu and ill-advised decision. “Permission slips to leave the school grounds are all on file?”

      She faltered at that, then sighed. “No,” she admitted. “I suppose the bar is a better choice, at least for a few minutes.”

      “It won’t be busy at this time of day,” he consoled her. “Most of the fishermen came in hours ago. And you know how Molly likes to cluck over kids.”

      Jess’s had been catering to Widow’s Cove fishermen for three generations. Jess had long since passed on, but his granddaughter ran the place with the same disdain for frills. Molly served cold beer and steaming hot chowder, which was all that mattered to her regulars.

      When Patrick and Ms. Newberry trooped inside with the children, Molly came out from behind the bar, took one look at the dripping wet Ricky and began clucking over him as predicted.

      “What on earth?” Molly asked, then waved off the question. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’ll have hot chocolate ready in no time.” She looked at the teacher and frowned. “Alice, you look terrible. Sit down before you faint on me. Patrick, get the children settled, then for heaven’s sakes go and put on some dry pants and a warm shirt under that jacket. I have some of granddad’s I can lend you. They’re hanging in the pantry on the way to the kitchen. Help yourself. I’ll be back in a minute. While I’m in the kitchen, I’ll give Matt a call and tell him to get over here to pick up Ricky.”

      Patrick knew better than to balk openly at one of Molly’s orders. She might be his age, but she’d had Jess as an example. She could boss around a fleet of marines without anyone questioning her authority. Besides, one glance at Alice Newberry told him that she was in no condition to take charge. He’d never seen a grown woman look quite so defeated. He had a hunch that today’s misadventure was the last straw in a long string of defeats.

      He studied her with a bit more sympathy. Every last bit of color had drained out of her delicate, heart-shaped face, and her brown hair had been whipped into a tangle of curls by the wind. The fact that she was making no attempt at all to tame them spoke volumes. Her hands were visibly trembling, as well. If she wasn’t in shock, she was darn close to it. He tried not to feel too sorry for her, since she’d brought this mess on herself, but a vulnerable woman could cut through his defenses in a heartbeat. Usually he knew enough to avoid them like the plague. This one had reached out and grabbed him when his defenses were down.

      “Sit,” he ordered her as he passed by on his way to the bar. Hot chocolate might be great for the kids, but she clearly needed something a lot stronger. He could use the heat from a glass of whiskey himself. He poured two shots and took them back to the table where she was sitting, then slid in opposite her. He wasn’t the least bit surprised when she reacted with dismay.

      “I can’t drink that,” she said. “It’s the middle of the day and I’m working.”

      Patrick shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He tossed back his own drink, grateful for the fire that shot through his veins. It was only a temporary flash of heat, but it was welcome and would do until he could get home and into his own dry pants.

      When he glanced across the table, he found Alice Newberry’s solemn gaze locked on him. He had a feeling a man could drown in those golden eyes if he let himself.

      “I never thanked you,” she said. “You saved Ricky’s life. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”

      “You would have jumped in after him,” he said, giving her the benefit of the doubt.

      She shook her head. “I couldn’t,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “I froze. It’s like it happened in slow motion and I couldn’t move.”

      “You only froze for a second,” he said, surprised by his reluctance to add to her obvious self-derision. “It all happened very quickly.”

      “That’s СКАЧАТЬ