Made to Order Family. Ruth Herne Logan

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СКАЧАТЬ you remember the gospel story about the adulteress? How the Pharisees sentenced her to be stoned?”

      Tootsie drew back, remorse twisting her features.

      Rita gripped her hands and leaned forward. “Jesus told the crowd that those without sin should cast the first stone. And slowly, one by one, they dropped their stones and walked away because we’re all sinners, honey. Each and every one of us. And God forgives those sins. All we have to do is ask.” She gave Tootsie’s hands an encouraging squeeze, hoping her empathy rang true. “Things happen, Toots. God knows that. And you’ve got friends nearby, people who will stand by you. Help you.”

      “No family.”

      “We’ll be your family,” Rita insisted. Tootsie had been raised by a live-off-the-land aunt in a smaller-than-small town near Malone, but her aunt had moved to Arizona several years ago, leaving Tootsie dating Matt and working for Brooks. This new turn of events would most likely sever Tootsie’s ties to Matt’s family, leaving her abandoned. “You’ve got us, kiddo. I promise.”

      Tootsie’s jaw quivered. She firmed it, straightened and set her shoulders back, determined. “It’ll be fine, I know. Eventually. I just dread telling Matt. And Brooks.”

      “If you need me around when you do it, I’ll be glad to ride shotgun.”

      “Planning a bank heist?” Liv crossed the room smiling, one brow hiked as she surveyed the bright promise of their painting efforts. A glimpse of Tootsie’s tear-streaked face blotted out her smile. “Toots, what’s up?”

      Tootsie waved her away. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

      Liv rolled her eyes. “Yeah and Gretzky’s just another hockey player.”

      “Your mom can tell you later. Right now—” Tootsie repositioned herself, chin down, eyes on the first bunny “—I need to work.”

      “All right.” Liv stepped back, worry shading her brow. A tiny head shake from Rita erased the frown. “These are perfect,” she exclaimed, eyeing the finished flowers. “Skeeter is helping me lay the matting. The glass images are done and drying. We actually might be able to get this done tonight.”

      “Bunnies won’t be dry,” Rita warned her.

      “That’s no big deal.” Liv shrugged. “Toots can put them in place tomorrow. The flowers and the window art were the biggies. I’ve just got to have Brooks approve what’s done so far.”

      “Approval granted.”

      Brooks’ deep voice drew their attention to the door. He nodded to Liv, pleased. “It looks wonderful, Liv.”

      She colored at the praise. “Really? You like it?”

      His expression underscored his words. “I love it. You’re one talented young lady. And working in reverse like that? That’s a rare ability few artists possess.”

      Her blush deepened. “Thanks, Mr. Harriman.”

      “Brooks,” he corrected her. “If you ever want a job, kid, come see me first.”

      Liv raised her chin, surprise and pleasure vying for her features. “Seriously?”

      “Honey, my offers are never less than serious.”

      “That’s for sure,” quipped Rita. She watched the exchange between Brooks and Liv, her heart tripping just a little bit faster.

      Liv respected Brooks. It was obvious in her manner, her attentiveness, her awareness of detail in his presence. Something about him inspired others to reach a little higher, go a little faster, try a little harder, that indiscriminate quality that screamed leadership in calm undertones.

      Brooks slid his gaze to Rita’s, offered her a half smile that made her heart pump faster than normal, then returned his attention to Liv. “You say the word, kid. You’re hired.”

      “Mom?”

      Liv turned toward Rita.

      Rita sat back on her stool, worked her jaw, then eyed them both. “She’s been wanting to get a job,” she explained to Brooks, her gaze shifting from him to Liv and back. “And I can’t think of any place I’d rather have you work than here.” Brooks smiled.

      Liv whooped. “Really, Mom? You don’t mind?”

      Brooks raised a hand of caution. “You still need to help your mother with Skeeter.”

      “And keep your grades up.” Not that grades were a problem with Liv, not since Rita had reinstated herself as the mother, relieving Liv of responsibility. Liv had endured a couple of tough years, but she seemed determined to move on with her life, taking charge of her dreams. At fifteen, her attitude was pretty remarkable after what she’d gone through.

      “Can we work around that?”

      “Absolutely.” Brooks arched a brow and indicated the showroom with a slight jerk of his head. “If I have you here to help Tootsie and Ava on the sales floor while learning cool things about fine carpentry on the side, I think we’ve got a deal, kid.”

      “And Ava will love not being dragged in for extra shifts,” Toots noted. “She loves being here but with two little kids, she only has so much time. When we’re crazy busy it definitely takes a crew on the sales floor.”

      Liv’s hug surprised Brooks. Rita saw it in his face, his eyes, the girl’s embrace taking him aback before he returned it. He winked at Rita over Liv’s head. “I get artwork from this one and cookies from you. I love knowing your family, Reet.”

      His light words inspired her smile. “Well, we like you, too, and while all this chitchat is fun, it’s not exactly getting the job done. I’ve got to get Skeeter home for bed in just a little bit.” Skeeter.

      In all this time, everyone had forgotten that Skeeter was alone in the store.

      A crash of something breakable and most likely valuable fixed that.

      Liv and the three adults crowded through the door to the showroom. Scattered pieces of a vase lay shattered on the floor, remnants of dried flowers strewn among the broken pottery. Skeets’ face wore a mix of fear and belligerence, not a pretty combination. “It was an accident.”

      Liv stepped in first. “Skeeter, it’s all right, I’ll pay for it. I shouldn’t have left you alone out here.”

      “I’m fine alone. There’s too much stuff all over the place is all.”

      Her tone said they were treading dangerous ground, never a good thing.

      “But you weren’t supposed to touch things, Skeet.” Rita stood her ground, not wanting the situation to fly out of control but unwilling to downplay Skeeter’s responsibility.

      “I didn’t,” she protested, her hands flying up. “I was just backing up and knocked into the stupid thing. Everything’s in the way here.”

      Rita colored, embarrassed.

      Brooks grabbed a short broom and dustpan from behind the СКАЧАТЬ