North Country Dad. Lois Richer
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Название: North Country Dad
Автор: Lois Richer
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781472072641
isbn:
“Great! Thank you, Grant.”
“I’m going to be busy.” He glanced at the curly heads on either side of him. “There are these two, of course, and Lives. I’ll also be working part-time as the school’s guidance counselor.”
“I’ll be grateful for whatever time you can spare.” Dahlia settled into her seat with a smile and sipped her coffee.
Grant let his gaze trail down her left arm to her hand. No ring. So Dahlia Wheatley was single.
If there were single women in Churchill, maybe he could find a wife. People still got married for convenience, didn’t they?
Ordinarily Grant would have run a mile from the idea of remarrying. Eva had been his one and only shot at love and he’d lost her. But he wasn’t looking for romance. He sure wouldn’t marry to have children—he’d never bring a child into the world. But he needed a wife because he had no clue how to be a father. When it came to raising the twins, he was as hopeless as his old man. But the right wife would know how to fill in for his lack.
As Grant mulled over the idea of marriage, his eyes were busy admiring the lovely Dahlia. He wondered if she’d consider such a proposition. He had a hunch she was good with kids. After all, he’d slept for over three hours and yet somehow there’d been no catastrophe or complaints. Dahlia’s doing, he was sure. The drawings tucked into the seat backs and the smudge of marker on Dahlia’s hand were signs that she’d known exactly how to handle them.
“Grant?”
He blinked and refocused on Dahlia, glad she could have no idea of his thoughts—otherwise she’d probably flee the train.
“I was thinking that maybe I could babysit Grace and Glory once in a while, in exchange for your help with my project.” Her gaze lingered on the girls before it lifted to meet his.
“That would be nice.” It surprised Grant just how nice it sounded.
“Good.” She smothered a yawn. “Sorry. I’m tired. I think I’d better get some sleep before we arrive.” After smiling at him again, she turned sideways in her seat, pulled a blanket over her shoulders and closed her eyes.
Grant wasn’t in the least bit sleepy. Maybe coming here hadn’t been a mistake after all. Maybe God was finally answering his prayer.
Glory murmured something and shifted restlessly. He stayed as still as he could, even though pins and needles were now numbing his arm.
Don’t let them wake up yet, he prayed silently. I’ll never get them back to sleep and they need sleep. Please?
God answered his prayer as Grace automatically reached out and folded her hand over her twin’s. Moments later, both little girls were still.
Grant glanced sideways at Dahlia Wheatley. He couldn’t imagine anyone taking Eva’s place. But neither was he capable of ensuring the girls had the home life their mother would have wanted for them.
Was Dahlia mother material?
He gave his head a shake. First things first. All he had to do right now was get to Churchill, and get their lives set up. He’d worry about Dahlia’s part in their lives later.
A face full of ice-cold water ended Dahlia’s dream of a family of her own.
She jerked upright, lifting one hand to dash away the water droplets clinging to her chin. Grant’s twins stood beside her with smiles on their chubby faces. “Girls, did you just throw water at me?”
“We saw that on television. Everybody laughed,” Grace informed her. “The little boy behind you was crying so Glory said we should try to make him laugh.”
Whoever was laughing, it certainly wasn’t Dahlia.
“Please don’t do that again. It isn’t nice, okay?” She sat up and dried herself off as she best she could with her blanket.
“Where’s your father?”
“He went to get us something to eat. We’re hungry.” The two looked at each other mournfully.
“Did your father tell you to stay in your seats?” Dahlia asked.
“Yes.” Grace looked ashamed.
“Then you should obey him.”
When they’d taken their seats, Dahlia dug through her overnight case and found a clean, dry T-shirt. She’d have to change. Again.
“What’s inside that round thing, Dally?” Glory asked, pointing to the tube with her plans for the go-kart track. “Treasure?” Her blue eyes began to glow with curiosity.
“They’re special papers.” Dahlia looked down the aisle for Grant’s return. She waited as long as she could, but her damp silk top made her shiver. Finally she rose. “You two stay in your seats until your father comes back, all right?”
They nodded solemnly but Dahlia could see the bloom of interest flare across their faces and vividly recalled their earlier mischievousness. She’d just have to change her top in record time and get back before they got up to something else.
Easier said than done, especially after she caught sight of her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She released her damp hair from its clips and bundled it on the top of her head. Then she hurried back to her seat.
And stopped in the aisle, aghast. Nothing in her dreams of parenting Arlen had prepared her for this. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be a mother.
The air left her lungs in a gust of dismay. Her go-kart blueprints, her precious drawings, were spread on the floor. And the two little girls were coloring them.
Glory looked up at her and beamed.
“We colored it for you. Grace likes red, but I think roads should be black.” She brandished Dahlia’s black marker. “I mostly stayed in the lines.”
What lines? The renderings were now obscured by every color of the rainbow, thanks to the markers Dahlia had allowed the girls to use earlier.
“I’m putting lines in the middle of the road,” Grace said, the tip of her tongue sticking from the corner of her mouth as she drew long yellow stripes in what was once the middle of Dahlia’s go-kart track. “Roads always have lines.”
“What are these little things?” Glory dabbed at the icon for the go-karts with her marker, pressing so hard she went through the paper. Her bottom lip drooped as she saw the damage. “I broke it.”
Grace carefully set her yellow marker on top of Dahlia’s white jacket to embrace her sister.
“It’s okay,” she soothed, hugging Glory close. Then she looked up at Dahlia. “It’s okay, isn’t it?”
Dahlia took one look at those sad little faces and said, “Of course. It’s fine, Glory. СКАЧАТЬ