Chapter Two
“You’ve lost your mind!” wafted loudly from the kitchen.
“I’m telling you,” a pretty blonde with her hair twisted into a sloppy bun at the top of her head waved a finger at a shorter redheaded woman, “a dash of lemon is fantastic.”
The petite redhead fisted her hands on her hips. “I am not, repeat not, putting lemon in my cannolis.”
The firecracker blonde rolled her eyes. “You are so stubborn. Cannolis are Italian. I don’t care what they taught you in that fancy French cooking school.”
Eric was momentarily horrified at walking in on the argument. Not so much because he cared what the two were doing battle over, but because he had made such an effort to keep everything calm and peaceful for the children after their painfully stressful ordeal.
“Fine.” The blonde whipped around. “Try and help.” She waved her hands, palms up, at Lucy.
Leaning against the counters, popping what looked like donut holes into her mouth, a young woman in sweatpants and a baggy shirt with a whistle dangling from her neck pushed away from the cabinets and scissoring her arms like an umpire declaring the runner at home safe, looked from one woman to the other. “Not a problem. Do them both ways and I’ll sacrifice myself for the taste testing.”
The redhead sputtered and the blonde rolled her eyes.
“Okay. If not me, neutral territory.” Whistle lady spun about and pointed at the two children seated at the end of the island watching the spat like spectators at a tennis match.
Eric had to do a double take. Chomping away at the pile of cookies in front of them, they were not horrified, upset, or complaining. They were riveted to the interaction. It was the most involved he’d seen them since they’d come through the double glass doors and into his life.
Yes, he decided. Time at Hart House was most definitely the only smart decision he’d made so far.
***
Iris loved her cousin Lily like a sister, but the girl was as protective of her recipes as a man was of his sports car. Heaven forbid anyone mess with either of their babies. Speaking of which. She turned her head to look at the two kids with enough cookies piled in front of them to feed an elementary school. What was the matter with parents today? Didn’t they understand boundaries and limits were the foundation for responsible well balanced, and yes, happy children.
Scowling at her two cousins, Lily nudged the refrigerator door shut with her elbow, then turned to face the children. “Would you like to help choose the better cannoli?”
It took the little girl a moment to recognize Lily was talking to her. The child nodded quickly. Her little brother looked to his sister and did the same.
Iris had her doubts that either had any idea what a cannoli was. Reminding herself that it wasn’t the children’s fault their parents—with a little help from Lucy—didn’t have a problem with putting their kids into a sugar coma, she sucked in a calming breath and did her best to plaster on a sincere smile for the children. After all, just because she’d spent the last few years dealing with spoiled rich kids didn’t mean she had to take it out on these two. If anything, they looked a bit lost. “Have you ever had cannolis before?”
Clearly not sure of his answer, the younger sibling looked to his sister for guidance in responding. The young girl’s mouth tightened and her brows dipped.
“Cannoli are an Italian pastry. Lily bakes a hard tubular shell then fills it with cream.”
Immediately the little girl’s face lit up, though the younger sibling still looked unsure.
“We need someone to tell us which recipe tastes better. Are you both up to the challenge?”
Like matching bookends, the two children nodded. Both had big button brown eyes and round faces with chubby cheeks. The little boy had curly golden locks, but the sister had chestnut, nearly pin straight shoulder length hair.
She knew of a few advertising companies that would kill for such an angelic looking pair of siblings.
“Very good, but if you’re going to have extra dessert, then we won’t want to spoil your dinner with all these cookies” She took hold of the plates, slowly easing them away, waiting for any signs of protest. When neither child reacted, she relaxed and quickly slid the dishes completely out of the way. “We’ll have to get permission from your parents, but I’m sure if you eat all your supper they won’t…”
At the sight of the young boy’s lower lip trembling in unison with water pooling in the little girl’s eyes, Iris’s words faltered. She’d almost shoved the dish back in front of them, willing to offer them a dozen more cookies where those came from if they would only smile.
Lucy appeared instantly with a full pitcher of lemonade and forced cheer. Refilling the nearly empty glasses, she looked to Iris. “I made Emily and Gavin’s favorite for tonight–spaghetti with meatballs. I’m sure if they eat all their dinner, their uncle won’t mind a bit if they help you and Lily decide which recipe is the best.”
Uncle? Feeling a chill, Iris noticed for the first time the tall brooding man in the doorway, staring daggers at her. The man pushed away from the wall and strode toward the island where both children had regained their composure and now stared almost curiously at the tall figure approaching them.
“I wonder if there’s enough for me to offer an opinion. Born and raised in North Boston, you might say I know my cannoli.” He smiled down at the children, but if Iris wasn’t mistaken, the man looked more nervous than upset. Almost as if he expected to be told he wasn’t welcome.
Waiting only a beat in silence, Lucy quickly answered, “The more the merrier.”
“Are we expecting more guests?” Grams came into the room. Smiling brightly, she strolled around the island, placing a gentle hand on each child’s shoulder. Instantly their stiff stance eased and though they didn’t exactly smile, Iris could see they liked having Grams around. Smart kids. Everyone loved her. She might be a tad colorful and march to her own tune, but the woman had known how to show her grandchildren unconditional love.
“Nope.” Lucy placed the pitcher on the counter. “Cannoli contest.”
Grams raised one brow at Lucy and then shot her gaze over to Lily.
Shaking her head, Lily mumbled, “Don’t ask.”
Mr. Tall Dark and Brooding shifted his weight from one side to the other and Iris thought it seemed to take great effort for him to suck in a breath. “We should probably settle in before supper.” He paused, his gaze lifting skyward a moment as though thinking through something important. “Wash up.” He paused again. “Yes, wash up,” he confirmed more to himself than anyone else.
“Good idea.” Grams tapped the children lightly against the shoulder. “Iris, dear, why don’t you show Mr. Johnson and the children to the Sycamore cabin?”
“Oh.” Iris shot a quick glance from the two siblings to their uncle. She probably was the best qualified to deal with whatever family dynamic was underfoot. “Sure.”
“I’m sure you’re tired from your travels. Shall we set extra places for supper?” Grams asked.
Relief seemed to wash over the man’s face, drawing some of the tension out of his shoulders. “Thank you. That would be very nice.”
“Lovely.” Grams leaned down and whispered to the children just loud enough for everyone to hear, but softly enough to feel like a secret. “This is my granddaughter, Iris. She’s as nice as her name.”
Both children scurried down from the benches. Emily glanced over her shoulder at Grams before taking hold of her brother’s hand and slowly inching forward until the two stood in front of her. Iris had no idea what was going on. When she’d arrived late yesterday there had already been a crowd gathered playing cards. She’d stuck around long enough to be friendly, but not long enough to get an update on the current or expected guests.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Eric Johnson.” Doing his best to sound relaxed and at ease, the stiffness in his stance and the shaky smile told Iris he was anything but. “Lead the way.”
On t
he porch, Iris paused to point to the cabin only a stone’s throw from the main house when she felt the tender warmth of a small hand bumping against hers. Pressed closely at her side, Emily kept her brother’s hand tucked tightly in hers and easily slid her free hand into Iris’s grasp.
Without hesitation, Iris folded her hand around the little girl’s and only then did Emily look up, surprise shining in her eyes.
The same surprise was staring back at her in their uncle’s huge whiskey brown eyes.
She’d have to teach him a thing or two about not reacting to the unexpected things kids did. Somewhere she was sure there was a secret childhood handbook that informed all children that surprise in an adult’s face was a sign of weakness. The same handbook that told all toddlers to test a parent’s worthiness by throwing a temper tantrum in the grocery store. Poor mom or dad who gave in had no idea that according to the secret handbook, they’d just lost the battle of wills for the remainder of their children’s lives. “This cabin is one of the larger two bedrooms.” She stepped off the porch. “There is a small kitchen with some basic supplies. You’ll have to hit the One Stop if you plan to cook.”
Another flash of surprise, teetering on panic, took over Eric’s face. Whether it was at the need of buying groceries or the need to cook, or maybe just the idea of being alone with two children in a small cabin, she had no idea.
“This isn’t the right house.” The little girl frowned, her hint of a British accent catching Iris by surprise. “Ours had a blue door.”
So they’d been here before. Since once again Iris had no idea what was going on, she didn’t dare venture at offering a response. And frankly, these kids weren’t in her charge. It wasn’t her job to teach them to not be fussy about door colors. No matter how they looked at it, life would eventually be throwing them a lot bigger curves than red doors.
“Maybe it will be nice too,” the uncle said.
The little girl couldn’t be more than six but she had that who-are-you-kidding glare down pat. If her uncle didn’t whither at the icy stare, maybe he was made of stronger stuff than Iris had given him credit for.
Using the key with the big red pom pom attached, he turned the lock and pushed the door open.
“I want my blue door.” The young girl stopped in her tracks.
Weary brown eyes quickly scanned the contents of the small cabin, then bounced from Emily to Gavin, and finally to her. By the time their gazes met the man looked totally defeated.
Maybe these children weren’t her responsibility, and maybe this man was clueless about how to handle children, but there was no point in letting him flounder in the wind at the children’s expense. She took a step further into the room and pointed out the west window. “See that cabin across the garden?”
Slowly Emily followed the direction of the extended finger and nodded.
“That’s where I’ll be staying.”
Emily cocked her head sideways and looked from Iris’s parents’ cabin back to the suitcases stacked by the door. For a few seconds, Iris thought for sure the little girl was going to insist once again on the blue door. Iris didn’t even remember which cabin had a blue door.
“I like green.” Emily took hold of her hand again. “Can we stay with you?”
Chapter Three
Eric didn’t know who was more surprised by Emily’s request, him or Iris. For only a flash of a moment he spotted the startled look in the blonde’s eyes before a curtain of indifference dropped, hiding whatever thoughts were going on in that pretty little head. And it was very pretty. Her grandmother had things half right. She might be nice but she was even more beautiful than her flower namesake.
“It’s not nice to impose on people.” The second the words had slipped from his lips he’d regretted them. Young eyes that had already been filled with sadness for so many days, now flared with pain. He might as well have told Emily he’d killed their puppy. Not that they had one. But the look stabbed his heart with the same precision as a surgeon’s scalpel.
Nibbling on her lower lip, his niece backed away from him, angling herself behind a woman neither of them really knew. “I like green.”
“Why don’t we find a game for you and your brother to play while I take a minute to talk to your uncle?”
“We didn’t bring anything to play with,” Emily mumbled.
The censure in the eyes that flared in his direction almost caught him off guard. Iris couldn’t be thinking anything worse than what he’d thought of himself a hundred times over since the lawyer’s phone call. The bottom line was clear. Eric had no business raising children. No matter how much he wanted to do right by his sister, he knew more about raising tomatoes than he did about little boys and girls—and he knew pretty much squat about gardening.
“I packed your books,” he said with more enthusiasm than the statement warranted. Especially since he was the only one excited about the books. As a child he’d loved the time spent on his parents’ bed while his father read to him and Adele from his favorite books. By the time Eric was in elementary school he loved Louis L’Amour as much as his dad did. Neither Emily nor Gavin showed any interest in Eric’s hardback editions, but that hadn’t stopped him from taking the children to the last neighborhood bookstore in town to pick out a couple of age appropriate books.
“Books are good,” Iris chimed in with an unexpected lilt of delight in her voice. “The American Girls were my favorite when I was your age. Nancy Drew too. What do you have?”
After only a moment of suspended silence, Eric crossed the room and quickly withdrew two large books from the overnight bag. “The woman at the store said these were some of her children’s favorites.”
Iris reached for the books, a sincere smile teasing at the corners of her mouth. “I loved the Berenstein Bears.”
For the first time since he’d purchased the books, he saw a flicker of interest from his niece.
“Would you read it to us?” Emily asked.
Iris glanced up at him. If she was expecting him to give or deny permission, she’d be waiting a long time. He hadn’t a clue what was or wasn’t the right thing to do about any of this. As a matter of fact, Iris seemed to have a much better handle on the little ones than anyone he knew. Heaven knows from the way she’d glowered at him for not bringing games it was rather obvious that she didn’t agree with the psychologist’s advice not to overwhelm them with toys as substitutes for their loss. The stern older man had made such a strong argument against toys that Eric had felt miserably guilty buying the books, but he simply didn’t know what else to do. Except coming here. He shrugged at the woman who had bonded with the children with few words in only a few minutes.
“Let’s do this.” Iris hunched down to be even with the children.
Had Eric seen anyone else do that? His mind wandered to how would he feel if he were scared, alone, and forced to talk to a man towering at least four feet above him. He really was an idiot.
“Let’s get your bags, take them to your room, and put the clothes away. Then we’ll go back to the big house, and after supper we’ll read both the books.” Iris glanced from one child to the other, waiting for a response. “The cabin should have some games and puzzles here for later, but if you’d like, we might hunt around at my grandmother’s to see if she still has any of the books from when I was a child.”
Emily didn’t take long to consider her words. Letting go of her brother’s hand, she nodded at Iris and then walked to the small bag that held her and Gavin’s clothes.
Studying the small suitcase a moment, Iris looked at the slightly larger bag beside it and then turned to face him. “Is this all their things?”
He nodded. What more could he do? He’d been rather surprised with the small amount of belongings that had—or hadn’t—come with the children. According to the solicitor someone on the continent would be shipping more of their belongings. He simply didn’t know what or when.
“Very well, we have a job to do.” Iris clapped her hands toge
ther and smiled down at the two little people. “Let’s get cracking.”
Without hesitation the two kids moved toward their room.
A step behind his niece and nephew, Eric couldn’t help but follow along. Somehow she’d turned unpacking a bag into a game and within minutes all their clothes were neatly folded in drawers or hung in the closet. She’d made it look so very easy. He’d give anything to understand how she’d done that. Anything.
***
There were several things Iris was sure of. First, Uncle Eric didn’t have a clue about the children. Jumping to the second conclusion, that surely he hadn’t been caring for these kids very long, came easily. The next obvious thing was that these two little ones were as outside of their comfort zone as their uncle. And since invitations for guests to join the family for dinner in the main dining room were few and far between, it was clear that Iris’s grandmother and Lucy knew more than she did about these people. All she needed was to call on a bit of patience and a few minutes alone with them to get caught up to speed. Even though she’d taken her grandfather’s advice to heart and now had all the time in the world, well, at least until her savings ran out, as far as gathering the inside scoop on Uncle Eric and his charges was concerned, sooner would be preferable to later.
Hair clipped in a loose ponytail, Iris’s cousin Callie set a massive salad bowl on the table while chatting away with her sister Poppy. Lily was still slaving away in the kitchen and neither Cindy nor Lily’s fiancé were going to make it tonight. Still, Iris was pleased to spend time with any of her cousins. Ever since informing Mrs. Belton that it was time she raised her own children, Iris had been savoring the idea of some much needed one on one time with her cousins in the peaceful and child free zone of Hart Land.
Iris Page 2
