Secret Dad. Raye Morgan

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СКАЧАТЬ the roses and a woman who took your coat when you came in. This was a whole new side of her and he wondered where it had come from.

      She went on talking, chatting about simple things, not expecting a response from him, and to his surprise, he was relaxing, feeling almost comfortable. She had a knack. He was soothed, just beginning to get sleepy, when there was a scratching sound, and a short bark from outside, and she rose with a smile.

      “And now you’re about to meet the reason I don’t feel unsafe in this place,” she told him as she went toward the sound. “Here you go.” She threw open the door. “Meet Sabrina.”

      Sabrina was a dark husky, big and furry and very, very curious. She knew Denver was there right away and raced to the couch, her nails scratching on the wood floor.

      “Hold it, girl,” Charlie cried, coming after her quickly. “Sabrina has been known to take exception to some men who have been in this house,” she added, watching the dog and the man meet. “She’s never actually bitten anyone, but you never know.”

      But the big dog didn’t hesitate. Rising up on her hind legs, she placed her paws right on Denver’s chest and began to sniff him all over. Charlie made a move as though to pull her back, but Denver reached up and gave her a rough caress, letting Charlie know he was perfectly willing to put up with Sabrina’s test. The dog let out a sharp bark, wagged her tail twice, and settled back down, almost seeming to give Charlie a nod as she went. Charlie laughed.

      “You big old faker,” she told her pet, giving her a rub on the top of her head as she passed.

      Denver watched her go. “Nice dog,” he said. “She’s got eyes like an old Indian sage. Like she’s carrying around the wisdom of the ages.”

      Charlie shook her head. “Don’t let her fool you. She’s just a puppy at heart.” Moving quickly, she began picking things up, making small talk as she went.

      He was hearing the sound of her voice more than the words. It was like music. She went into the kitchen and began fixing something. He assumed it was for dinner, though it was still early. He stared into the fire and listened to her talk. Her voice was quick, just like her hands. The sound she made was light and sunny, like the song a perfect stream sang as it danced over polished stones. He closed his eyes for a moment. He could almost taste her.

      There was a clattering of pans and the sound of water running. Now she was humming a lively tune. He had an urge to see her and he hunched himself up higher against the arm of the couch so that he could look across the room and into the kitchen.

      “Is it really that much fun to cook?” he asked her as the humming went on and on.

      She glanced up, as though astonished he was still there. “You’d be surprised,” she said, laughing, her hair swinging about her shoulders.

      “It does smell good,” he admitted.

      “Do you like pot roast?”

      Pot roast. How many years had it been since he’d had good old homemade pot roast? His diet over the last few years had tended toward hamburgers or a taco grabbed on the fly—that, or the native cuisine of whatever country he was working in. Pot roast took a long time. Mothers made pot roast. It was the sort of dinner that had love cooked right into it—along with Sunday afternoons and going to church with the family.

      He twitched. Where the hell had that picture come from? It didn’t sound like any sort of life that he’d ever led. What happened? Were you born with some sort of stereotype in. your head that you tried to live up to your entire life? Tried, and failed. Kind of a great eternal joke on humanity.

      “I didn’t realize that was such a hard question,” she commented.

      He looked up, at a loss for a moment. Then he remembered what she’d asked. “Uh...sure. I like pot roast.”

      “Good. I’m making plenty. You can have all you want.”

      It seemed he was expected to stay for dinner. Suddenly the prospect of a homemade meal was overwhelmingly seductive. He sat back and contemplated his luck. He knew he should go. But one good old pot roast dinner wouldn’t hurt. Would it?

      “You know,” she said, coming out of the kitchen. “I really think you should go to the hospital.”

      He grimaced, shifting his leg. “What for?”

      “They’ll fix you right up, put you in a cast, make sure you’re on the road to healing...”

      He was shaking his head. “No. I’m not going to the hospital.” He’d already spent too many weeks in the hospital this year. “I’ve had worse than this before. The human body has a capacity to heal all sorts of things on its own. And mine’s had a lot of practice at it.”

      She gazed at him curiously, but didn’t respond to what he’d said. “Okay, I guess I can’t force you.” Starting toward the door, she called back, “You’ll have to hold the fort I’ve got to go get Robbie. He gets out of school at three and....”

      As though she knew this part by heart, Sabrina came running out of the back of the house to join her mistress. Charlie stopped at the door, her hand on the knob. “You’ll be here when I get back, won’t you?” she asked.

      He looked at her. Her lips were curved into a slight smile and her eyes were alight with the question. Tiny wisps of blond hair flew around her lovely face. It was a good thing he’d learned to harden himself over the years. A weaker man wouldn’t have been able to resist the temptingly engaging picture she presented.

      “Sure, I’ll be here,” he told her gruffly. “Where the hell would I go?”

      Her face changed and she straightened her shoulders, taking a couple of steps back toward where he lay. “Okay, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. When my son is around, I’d appreciate it if you would watch the swearing. You seem to do an awful lot of it, and I don’t like it.” She paused. “On the other hand, it’s a free country. You can swear all you want. Only not around Robbie. That I won’t allow.”

      She’d caught him off guard again. He hadn’t realized he’d been getting that careless—like some mountain man who didn’t know how to behave in civilized society. Great. Now he was so far gone he was swearing around a woman. He’d lived a tough life. He’d sworn a lot in his time. But he still had some old-fashioned values. He never used to swear around women and children. He was going to have to relearn that.

      “Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’ll watch it.”

      Her smile was back, as though she were glad he’d taken criticism so well. “I’d appreciate it,” she said breezily, spinning back toward the exit. “It takes twenty minutes to get to Robbie’s school. Twenty minutes back.”

      She didn’t wait for an answer, and he didn’t give one. He only stared after the closing door, wondering how he’d managed to end up here when all he’d come for was rest and relaxation. Something told him rest was going to be hard to find with Charlie around.

      Three

      Charlie left her cabin and started toward town. Smoke was coming out of the chimney at Margo’s place, so she was home. Charlie had a moment’s unease, of wondering what the neighbors would think about her visitor, but she brushed СКАЧАТЬ