Shenandoah Christmas. Lynnette Kent

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СКАЧАТЬ Bumbles the Bear, he’s always there, he mumbles and grumbles but never for long….”

      They finished three verses of the Bumbles song before Shep drifted into sleep. Cait got to her feet, with a stiffness in her shoulders and neck that testified to the tension she’d felt during this last hour. What kind of responsibility would it be to have the care of these children all day, every day? And all alone, as Ben did?

      More than she could imagine. Which was why she was happy to stay single.

      “Can you sing to me, Miss Caitlyn?” Maddie had hold of her hand again.

      “Are you ready for bed?” Cait glanced at her watch and saw with surprise that it was after eight.

      “Daddy lets me read before I go to sleep.”

      “Well, if he doesn’t mind…”

      Ben stepped out of Shep’s room and pulled the door partway shut. “Sounds great to me. I’ll come up a little later and kiss you good-night, Maddie.”

      “Okay.” Maddie’s room was the complete opposite of her brother’s—yellow and white, ruffles and gingham checks and eyelet lace, as neatly kept as Anna’s half of their room had always been.

      “This is wonderful, Maddie. You must love having such a special bedroom.” Two dormered windows overlooked the yard, now hidden by the dark.

      “Daddy and Grandma and I picked everything out.” The little girl climbed on her bed. “My mommy couldn’t help when we moved here. She went to sleep after the car wreck, and she couldn’t wake up even in the hospital.”

      Cait forced words through her closed throat. “I’m so sorry.” They stared at each other for a minute, until she found the control to say, “What shall we sing?”

      Maddie asked for some of her favorite hymns from choir, and the theme song of a popular TV show. Her eyelids started to droop and she snuggled down into her bed, holding a beautiful doll with long dark curls in the crook of her arm. “This is Valerie,” she said sleepily. “I named her for my mommy, ’cause they both have curly brown hair. Like me.”

      With her fingers trembling, Cait stroked Maddie’s hair. “And you’re as beautiful as she is. One more song?”

      Maddie nodded, her eyes closed. Cait sang an Irish lullaby, using the Gaelic in which she’d learned it first. Then she sat, elbows propped on her knees and her chin resting on her fists, just watching the little girl sleep.

      “Cait.” Ben’s whisper came from the doorway.

      She stood reluctantly, but then pulled herself together and crossed the room. This wasn’t her family, after all, or her house. She was just helping out.

      Ben looked in on Shep, then led her to the first floor. At the bottom of the stairs he turned, heading away from the front door. Cait followed, confused, until she remembered she’d said she would call David to come get her. Ben couldn’t leave once the children were asleep.

      But in the kitchen, she found the table set with bowls, a plate of bread, and glasses of tea. Ben turned from the stove with a pot in one hand and ladled soup into the bowls. “It’s tomato, from a can. Not very impressive, but it’ll fill you up until you can get back to Anna and David’s house.”

      Cait could only stare at him in shock.

      “Go on,” he said, putting the pan back on the stove. “Sit down and have something to eat. It’s the least I can do after letting my children abuse you and ruin your Sunday afternoon.”

      She sank into a chair because her knees really weren’t too steady. “They didn’t ruin my Sunday. Or abuse me. I had a good time at the party.”

      “I’m pretty sure being held hostage by a sick little boy isn’t part of your usual weekend schedule.” He took the seat across the table and picked up his spoon.

      “Why are you so convinced you know all about me?” Cait kept her hands folded in her lap. “And why are you so positive you don’t like what you know?”

      He put down his spoon. “I—” His cheeks reddened. “I guess that’s pretty much the way I’ve been treating you.”

      She nodded. “Pretty much.”

      Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed his hands over his face. “Sorry. Just call it a protective instinct.”

      “I’m not a threat to you, or anyone else that I know of.”

      His hands dropped and he gave her a wry smile. “Looked in the mirror lately?”

      Cait felt her cheeks heat. “I saw lots of freckles, a snub nose and bags under my eyes from too many late nights.”

      Ben considered her, his head cocked to one side. “Well, yeah. But add to that a great mouth and eyes a man could drown in, plus a voice that sounds like pure sex. Now there’s a threat.” As if he hadn’t just knocked the breath out of her, he took up a spoonful of tomato soup.

      Cait finally recovered that voice he’d mentioned. “Sounds like sex?”

      He nodded and pushed the plate of bread slices closer to her side of the table.

      At a loss, Cait finally tasted what just happened to be her favorite soup. “Nobody’s ever said it like that before.”

      “Hard to believe. Maybe you missed a review.”

      “My agent uses a press-clipping service. No article is too small.” When her bowl was half-empty, she looked up again. “But that doesn’t explain why I threaten you.”

      Under a sweater as blue as his eyes, Ben’s shoulders lifted on a deep breath. He put his hands flat on the table on either side of his bowl. “For someone who writes loves songs, you’re not using much imagination. I find you attractive, Cait Gregory.” His eyes darkened as he stared at her. “Very attractive.”

      She opened her mouth, though she wasn’t sure what she would say.

      He stopped her with a shake of his head. “But even if I felt the need to date or have some kind of relationship, which I don’t, I’m not into short-term affairs. And I can’t imagine that you, with your career and your schedule, would be into anything else. That leaves me defending myself against—” he made a gesture that seemed to encompass her from head to toe “—you.”

      Cait allowed anger to override the embarrassment flooding through her. “You arrogant SOB.” She got to her feet. “You’re still making assumptions. About my morality, my taste in men, my—my lifestyle.”

      Ben stood up, crossed his arms over his chest, and stared her down. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

      “I don’t have to tell you the time of day.” Dropping her napkin on the table, she turned on her heel and stalked back through the house.

      His footsteps pounded after her. “Where do you think you’re going?”

      “Somewhere else.” She wrenched open the front door.

      He caught her by the arm, shut the door again with the СКАЧАТЬ