Stand-In Rancher Daddy. Renee Ryan

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ she wanted?

      No point in going to a place that could never be, even in the privacy of her own mind. God had provided her a temporary position with a family in need. She would focus on the time she had in their home. One day at a time.

      People moved toward the open field south of the revival tent and joined small clusters made up of friends or family or both. Gathering around large tubs of ice cream, they laughed, shared whispered confidences and slapped each other’s backs.

      How could they just go about their business? Did they not realize that the lives of two little girls and their stalwart uncle were changed forever?

      Molly glanced to the heavens. She wanted to pray, but no words formed in her mind. She lowered her head. Beams of light caught floating, cottony-white particles swirling from the branches of the tree overhead.

      The twins remained unnaturally silent, and so very solemn. Again CJ and Molly shared a glance. But then he was no longer looking at her. His face settled into a scowl.

      Following the direction of his gaze, Molly nearly groaned out loud. Mrs. Hickey, with her pinched face, tight bun and small, narrow eyes, marched straight toward them. Each step was measured and full of purpose.

      Though she feared the worst, Molly forced a smile. She must be strong for the Thorn family. Family. The word stuck in her mind, nagging at her, reminding her they weren’t really hers.

      Well, she would stand with them, anyway, because today...today they were hers.

      * * *

      CJ shifted to stand directly in front of Molly and the twins. The protective move wasn’t discreet and hardly subtle. He didn’t much care. Constance Hickey was the town’s most fearsome gossip, best known for spreading rumors based on half-truths and third hand accounts.

      He knew this unpleasant fact about the woman from personal experience. Lillian had barely rejected his marriage proposal when half their community was in possession of the particulars behind her refusal. The talk had been unkind and had added an ugly blemish to the Thorn name.

      CJ could weather another round of rumors and backbiting. What he couldn’t—wouldn’t—tolerate was talk about the twins or Molly.

      He widened his stance, balanced on the balls of his feet and braced himself for the battle to come.

      Mrs. Hickey drew to a stop.

      “Ah, Mr. Thorn, good day to you and yours.” The empty pleasantry did nothing to soften her voice. The sound and pitch were as shrill as the whistling of a stiff wind through the crack in a window.

      “Good day, Mrs. Hickey.” In an attempt to end the conversation before it began, he said nothing else.

      A mistake. The woman filled the conversational void by making a grand show of craning her neck to the left, then the right. “I haven’t seen your brother this morning.” The diamond point of her chin settled back to center. “I do hope he isn’t ill.”

      “He isn’t ill.” Not in the strictest sense of the word.

      “Well, if that’s true, I must say I’m surprised he isn’t here.” She sniffed indelicately. “I’ve never known him to miss Sunday service.”

      The critical comment drew a tortured sob from one of the twins. The miserable sound ripped through the air like broken glass shattering in a million pieces.

      CJ moved fast, but not fast enough. By the time he’d spun around and dropped to his knees, Anna had sucked in a big gulp of air and screwed up her face. “Anna, please. Please don’t—”

      She let out a piercing wail. “I want my pa.”

      “Me, too.” Sarah’s composure disintegrated slower than her sister’s. It started with a wobble of her lower lip, but then her chest heaved and tears exploded from her eyes.

      CJ fought for words to ease the children’s misery. He’d never seen the twins this distraught. Their wretched little faces were scrunched up tight and tears tracked down their reddened cheeks.

      At a complete loss, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Who wants ice cream?”

      The question managed to stun them for a fraction of a second, but then the crying commenced once again.

      “I don’t want ice cream,” Anna sputtered between hiccupping sobs. “I want my pa.”

      Sarah’s chin began to wobble and then firmed. Never a good sign. “Pa. He’s got to be here. He’s got to. I’ll go find him.”

      She made a break for it.

      CJ caught her by the sleeve. “No one’s going anywhere.”

      “Oh, my. Oh, dear, I’ve upset the children.” Mrs. Hickey’s voice held a surprising amount of remorse. “You must understand that wasn’t my intention.”

      Ignoring the woman, CJ hauled Sarah back to stand next to her sister. Bottom lip trembling, she stared hard at him from her tear-ravaged face.

      He had no idea what to say. What to do.

      What if he made matters worse?

      This wasn’t his area. He was out of his element. Panic tried to take hold.

      Molly’s soft, calming voice cut through his rising alarm. “Mrs. Hickey, your husband is motioning for you to join him at the ice-cream tubs.”

      A rush of air whooshed out of the odious woman’s mouth. “Why, yes. Yes, I believe you are correct.”

      With the welcome sound of her retreating footsteps in his ears, CJ leaned slightly forward. The gesture brought his face closer to Sarah’s.

      “You can’t run off, not for any reason.” His tone brooked no argument. “I need you to stay close, understand?”

      “But I have to find Pa.”

      “He’s not coming home. But it’s going to be all right,” CJ added in a rush, not sure if he was saying that for the children’s benefit or his own.

      “Did we do something wrong, Unca Corny?” Anna asked the question between two gasping whimpers. “Is that why Pa doesn’t like us anymore?”

      “Your father loves you.” Of that CJ was certain. “He...that is...”

      CJ lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. How did he explain something he didn’t understand himself?

      “This isn’t your fault.” He spoke with more force than necessary. Both girls flinched. Compelling himself to speak slowly, more softly, he stated, “Your father leaving home isn’t your fault.”

      His words brought on more crying. Tears fell in rivers down the girls’ cheeks. For three days, he’d managed to keep them from breaking down like this. Their misery was gut-wrenching to watch. Nothing CJ said seemed to calm them.

      Cold, hard anger at Ned seeped into the very marrow of his bones. With considerable effort, he shoved the emotion aside and shot Molly a desperate look.

СКАЧАТЬ