by Marta Perry
“Just seems like the neighborly thing to do. Besides—” he glanced toward his niece “—Sadie wants to spend some time with Dixie.”
Cocking her head, Christa sent him a knowing look. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that Ronnie is on his way out here?”
“Are you kidding? It has everything to do with that. And if that creep tries to linger a little longer than he should, well, then we will, too, ’cause we’re going out for dinner tonight.”
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”
“No, ma’am. I will do whatever is necessary to keep you from being alone with Cranston.” He parked his truck in her drive, before following Christa and Sadie into the house.
“Do you have any cookies?” Sadie rubbed her belly. “I am so hungry.”
Mick cringed. He’d forgotten Sadie usually had a snack when she got home.
“Sadie, we don’t need to impose on Miss Christa. I’ll run down to the camp house and grab you a juice box and granola bar.” He turned for the door.
“You don’t have to do that, Mick.” Christa’s words stopped him. “I’ve got some peanut butter cookies in the fridge I’ve been dying to make.” She smiled at Sadie. “This’ll be just the excuse I need.” She opened the refrigerator door. “Because then I won’t eat them all myself.” She reached into the fridge before handing something to Sadie. “Here’s a string cheese to tide you over—”
A knock sounded at the door.
Mick pulled out a chair at the table and made himself at home. “Looks like your plumber’s here.”
Christa shut the refrigerator door and started across the kitchen into the mudroom while Sadie crawled into the chair beside Mick and peeled the plastic wrapper off her cheese.
A moment later, the door opened.
“Hello, beautiful.” Apparently Cranston wasn’t wasting any time. Had the guy not seen Mick’s truck out there?
“Hey, Ronnie,” said Christa. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I know you are, darlin’.” Creepy Cranston drew out each word, and it took every ounce of determination Mick had to stay seated.
Keep your cool. Just look like you belong here. Something that shouldn’t be a problem, given that he’d grown up in this house. Still, visions of Cranston ogling Christa had Mick ready to pounce. It was almost as if he was—
No, that couldn’t be it. Mick and Christa weren’t a couple or anything. They weren’t even dating, so why would Mick be jealous? No, he’d be gunning to protect any woman from Ronnie Cranston.
Except this wasn’t any woman. It was Christa.
Finally she moved into the kitchen with Ronnie right on her heels.
Mick leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. “Hello, Ronnie.”
Cranston’s dark gaze jerked to Mick’s, as though he’d just been busted. “Ashford, what are you doing here?” He looked from Mick to Christa, no doubt wondering if they were a couple.
“Keepin’ an eye on you. Makin’ sure you behave like a gentleman.”
“What are you talkin’ about? I’m always a gentleman.”
Mick fought the urge to laugh. “In that case, I’d best let you get to your work.”
Pulling off a strip of cheese, Sadie twisted to look at Christa. “Are we still going to make the cookies?”
“We sure are. Just let me show Mr. Cranston which pipes need to be fixed.”
“I can do that, Christa.” Mick all but jumped at the opportunity. “You and Sadie go ahead and work on those cookies. I’ll take care of ole Ronnie.”
Once the water was turned off, Mick showed the fellow to the master bath.
“I didn’t know you were sweet on Christa, Mick. Can’t say as I blame you, though. She’s a looker.”
“Just stick to the pipes.” He pointed toward the wall. “And I ain’t sweet on her. We’re just friends.”
“Coulda fooled me. The only woman I recall you being that protective of was your sister. But if you’re just friends, then I reckon you won’t mind if I ask her out.”
“’Course not. She’d just tell you no just like every other time.”
His phone rang and Mick looked at the screen to see Margaret Flannery’s name. Margaret was an older widow he leased pastureland from.
He pointed toward the hole in the wall. “Just get to work.” Turning, he touched the screen to accept the call as he moved into the blue-and-white bedroom and pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello.”
“Mick, I know you’re probably all kinds of busy, but I thought I should let you know that I just passed one of your cows out on the road. A pretty brown and white one that would make a gorgeous rug someday.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. Talk about bad timing. If a cow was out, he had no choice but to go and put her back in. Not to mention check the fence line to see how she got out in the first place, then make any necessary repairs. Because if the animal caused any sort of accident, either someone hitting it or swerving to miss it, Mick was the one who’d be held responsible.
“Whereabouts, Margaret?”
“Right there at the bend by Duck’s Hollow.”
“I’ll head over there now. Thanks for letting me know.”
He made his way back into the kitchen where Christa and Sadie were setting the pieces of dough onto a cookie sheet. “I have to leave.”
Christa looked his way. “Problem?”
“I’ve got a cow out on the road.”
“Well, you’d better go take care of her.” She smiled and nodded toward Sadie. “We’ll be fine here.”
“Are you sure?” He gestured in the general direction of her bathroom, where Cranston had better be focusing on the pipes and nothing else.
“I’m a big girl, Mick. Besides, Sadie will be here.”
He supposed a five-year-old would be a good buffer, if not an effective deterrent. “I’ll be back just as quick as I can.”
It didn’t take him long to locate the Red Angus mix grazing in the ditch, along with the section of barbed wire that a tree limb had taken down, probably during the storm. He coaxed the cow back inside, then grabbed his pliers, wire stretcher and gloves from his truck and repaired the section. He’d have to come back with his chain saw later to remove the tree. But for now, he needed to get back to Christa and Sadie. He’d promised to take them to dinner, after all.
His hackles went up when he saw Cranston’s truck still in Christa’s drive almost an hour after Mick had left. And for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he felt so strongly about protecting Christa. Like she said, she was a grown woman. One who was definitely no pushover. She’d gone toe-to-toe with Mick on more than one occasion and never failed to hold her own.
The only woman I recall you being that protective of was your sister.
As much as he hated to admit it, Cranston was right. And Mick wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.
When he knocked on the door, it was Ronnie who opened it instead of Christa.
“I’m just finishing up.” He motioned to the gaping hole behind the washer.
“Good.” Mick moved past him and continued into the kitchen where the sweet smell of peanut butter still hung in the air. “Don’t suppose you saved me a cookie, did you?”
“Uncle Mickey!” Sadie looked up from the table. “Miss Christa letted me paint my fingernails.” She held up her hands to reveal pink-and-blue-tipped fingers.
His gaze drifted to Christa who was sitting beside her. “You’re a brave woman.”
“Smart, too.” She pushed her chair back and stood. “It’s water based, so it peels right off.” She demonstrated with her own fingers then pointed toward the counter. “And yes, we saved you some cookies.”
He crossed to the small island and grabbed a couple.
“All right, folks.”
Coo
kie in hand, Mick turned to see Cranston standing in the doorway between the kitchen and mudroom.
“I’m going to turn the water back on. If there are no leaks, you should be good to go.”
“Excellent.” Christa looked at Mick. “Now I get to learn drywall repair.”
By the time Ronnie pulled away, the sun was drifting low in the western sky and Mick’s stomach was ready for something more than cookies.
He watched Christa as she cleared off the table. “So where would you like to go eat?”
“Honestly—” she wadded up the waxed paper she’d laid out to protect the wood finish while they did their nails “—I’m not really in the mood to go anywhere.”
Disappointment settled in his gut, surprising him.
“However—” Christa tucked the paper in the trash before facing him again “—if you don’t mind frozen pizza, we could eat here.”
The offer lifted his spirits. He enjoyed Christa’s company. Her outlook on life, her values were very similar to his, which had him thinking that maybe they weren’t so different after all. And that made frozen pizza too good to resist.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Christa pulled her SUV up to Mick’s house Friday evening, eager to show Sadie her completed room. She’d taken a long lunch today so she could finish the project. With the painting out of the way, it hadn’t taken long to style the wall shelves she’d had Mick put up, rearrange the furniture and add some fun wall art along with the new bedding. The space was now colorful, inviting and, most of all, designed specifically for Sadie.
The only downside was that it meant she no longer had a reason to come down to Mick’s place and hang out with him and Sadie. It had felt rather strange being there earlier with both of them gone. Almost as if she was invading their turf by introducing items she was certain Mick never dreamed of having in his house. He’d be okay, though, because she wasn’t changing things for his benefit, but for Sadie’s.
Christa enjoyed watching the two of them together. She never would have guessed that the tough cowboy she’d always encountered could be turned inside out by one little girl. But he was so sweet with Sadie. As if he was meant to be a father.
Christa released a sigh. What would she do now that Sadie’s room was complete?
Start pestering her real estate agent, for one thing. She couldn’t believe there was still no word on the Gebhardt building. Perhaps Christa should try to contact the leasing agent directly. Maybe that would get the ball rolling.
Determining that was a decision for another day, she got out of her vehicle then opened the back door. “There you go, Dixie.”
The dog hopped out and started exploring, nose to the ground.
Christa waited, taking in the picturesque setting. With the large trees and the pond, she could see why Mick liked living here. She could just imagine sitting at the water’s edge, watching Sadie splash around with Dixie.
Her heart skidded to a stop. Once Mick found his footing as a parent, he’d have no need for Christa anymore. That was, assuming the court case came out in his favor.
She sucked in a breath. Father God, please let Sadie remain with Mick. He’s trying so hard and he loves her so much.
“Come on, Dix.” Turning, she continued onto the porch and knocked on the door. A moment later, a haggard Mick swung it open.
“Boy, am I glad you’re here.”
She could hear Sadie crying. Make that screaming.
She stepped inside. “What’s going on?” Her gaze shifted to the living room where Sadie lay on the floor throwing one doozy of a tantrum.
“I wish I knew. Ever since I picked her up from school, all she’s done is argue. Whatever I ask her to do, she says no. I even told her she was going to get to see her new room tonight, but she had to wait until you got here. So she threw herself on the floor and has been kicking and screaming ever since.”
“That doesn’t sound like Sadie.”
“I know.” Mick dragged a hand through his light brown hair. “I’m ’bout at my wit’s end. She won’t talk to me. And whenever I try to talk to her, she screams louder.”
Another screech rent the air.
Something was amiss. And Christa hadn’t had enough experience with kids to know how to handle this. Still, she had to give it a try.
She moved tentatively toward the girl and crouched to her level. “Sadie? Hey—” she brushed the child’s shoulder-length hair out of her reddened face “—what’s going on?”
Sadie jerked away and continued to scream and sob.
Standing, Christa glanced at Mick, who looked every bit as helpless as she felt. “Did something happen at school?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
Christa looked down at the child, hating to see her so upset. There had to be a reason for an outburst like this. And the only way they were going to find out was for Sadie to tell them. But how could they get her to do that?
A few tumultuous moments passed before Christa decided to join Sadie on the floor. And despite the protests, she pulled the thrashing child into her lap. “Come on, Sadie. Talk to me. What’s the problem?” Despite the child’s continued kicking, Christa drew her closer. “Don’t you want to see your new room?”
“No! I don’t want a new room!”
Willing herself to remain calm, Christa breathed deep and kept her voice even. “Okay, what do you want then?”
“I want my mommy and daddy!”
Christa’s gaze collided with Mick’s, her insides churning with grief—for Sadie and the little girl Christa had been. Tears sprang to her eyes as she recalled that night when her emotions had come to a head and she’d fallen apart on her father. The ache in her little heart had been more than she could take. She couldn’t remember what had set her off, only that she’d lost it and there’d been nothing her father could do to console her. She’d been too young to understand what was going on; she only knew that she’d wanted her mother. And she was certain that’s what Sadie was enduring right now.
In that moment, Christa understood just how helpless her father had felt. But that hadn’t stopped him from trying to console her. And she would do the same for Sadie.
Ignoring the girl’s continued flailing, Christa hugged her tight and smoothed a hand over her tangled hair. “I know you do, baby. I know you miss them.” She whispered in Sadie’s ear, “Your mommy and daddy loved you so much. I know you don’t understand why they had to go away.”
The kicking began to subside and the tension in Sadie’s body started to ease.
“I know you miss them terribly,” Christa continued, determined to ride out this storm with the precious child in her arms.
After a moment, Sadie turned into Christa’s chest, her body shaking with each hiccup as Christa cradled her. Through tears, she peered up at her. “Why did they leave me?”
“They didn’t want to, baby.” If only there was an answer suitable for a five-year-old. “Just like my mommy didn’t want to leave me. But sometimes things just happen.” Tears spilled onto her cheeks.
Sadie reached up and caught one on her finger.
Christa sniffed and tried to keep herself from falling completely apart. “And your Uncle Mickey loves you so very much.”
He joined them on the floor then, his own face wet with tears, and Christa could feel the heat radiating from him as he drew close.
His shoulder touched hers as his calloused hand tenderly stroked Sadie’s hair. “I miss your mama and daddy, too, Sadie.” His voice cracked. “Your mama was my best friend.”
Sadie sat up in Christa’s lap and twisted to look at her uncle. With a sniff, she said, “She was?”
“Would I lie to you?”
Sadie thought for a moment before shaking her head.
“And I promised your mama and daddy that I would take care of you. So I really need you to talk to me wh
en something is bothering you. It’s okay to cry and get upset, but it would sure help me if I knew why you were doing it. Even if I can’t make it better.”
Christa smoothed a hand over Sadie’s back. “Do you think you can do that, Sadie? Tell your Uncle Mickey when you’re feeling sad or mad?”
The child was still for a moment before she reached for Mick.
Christa’s heart split wide open when he pulled his niece close, hugging her for all she was worth, while tears streamed down his face. Oh, how she prayed the Sandersons wouldn’t tear them apart. She couldn’t bear what it might do to these two precious souls.
The three of them sat there, silently working through their grief, until Dixie sidled over and sat down beside Mick, as though she was waiting for Sadie.
“Dixie.” Sadie pulled away and smiled at the dog. Then she placed a tiny hand on each of her uncle’s cheeks. “I love you, Uncle Mickey.”
“I love you, too, princess.” He kissed her cheek.
Sadie looped an arm around Dixie’s neck and turned to Christa. “I’m ready to see my new room now.”
Laughing through her tears, Christa said, “We can do that. But first, I think we need a round of tissues.”
* * *
Mick wasn’t about to break his arm trying to pat himself on the back, but peering at his watch as he stood on his front porch Sunday afternoon, he realized that he’d almost made it through his first somewhat normal weekend alone with Sadie. And as far as he was concerned, that was something to celebrate.
They’d spent Saturday morning putting out hay. At each of the five pastures, he’d eyeball the herd, make sure every cow and bull were accounted for, that none were having any issues, and then double-check the mamas with babies, as well as those that would be calving soon.
After church today, they’d grabbed lunch at Bubbas and ate in the truck as they made the rounds again. Sadie had been the first to spot a new calf, which she had to name, just like all the others. Unlike yesterday, though, she’d fallen asleep on the way back to the house. So he’d carried her to the couch, then settled into his recliner for a catnap of his own.
