My Three Girls (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Floyd, Susan

  “What?” Dana asked.

  “How much, uh, experience have you had?” The question came out baldly.

  “Define experience.” Dana was wary.

  “Boyfriends.”

  “One or two.”

  “One or two?” Brady raised an eyebrow.

  “Okay, one and it didn’t last that long.”

  “So you’re a virgin.”

  Dana winced and scooted away. “Well, not technically, if that makes you feel better. Is that something I should have told you before the ceremony?”

  “Yes. No. Uh, probably.”

  “Is it a problem?”

  “No.” His voice was gruff. “Not at all. I just assumed you had more experience.”

  “I guess I can go get some experience,” she said, half rising from the couch. “I’ll be right back. How far is it to the nearest pick-up bar?”

  Brady laughed, caught her wrist and pulled her back onto his lap.

  “I think not.” Brady’s eyes were intent. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  She nodded, knowing what he was going to ask. Was she a virgin out of choice or circumstance? She was probably both, since she believed that the choices people made led to their circumstances. She’d rehearsed the conversation in her mind, so she didn’t appear to be unwanted goods.

  “Who was he?”

  “Who was who? My boyfriend?”

  “The boy.”

  “I told you.” Her voice stuck in her throat. “He was a student at the school that I worked at.”

  “Was that all he was?”

  She turned away, her lips pressed tightly together. “I don’t talk about Adam.”

  “MAYBE IT’S TIME you did.” Brady tried to keep his voice gentle. He saw Dana struggle with her thoughts.

  “I’m sorry.” She shook her head, trying to get a grip on herself. “I haven’t talked about Adam to anyone except my mother.”

  “Try me,” he told her, remembering the words that she’d whispered to Jean. “I’m right here with you.”

  “Adam,” she began, and then wiped away the tears that had slipped down her cheeks. “Adam was six and a student in another class. His mother was a crack addict. The week before school let out for the summer, I went to work early and found him sleeping underneath one of the portables.”

  Brady kept his expression blank. He was afraid that if he let his anger show, she’d stop telling him what happened.

  “I took him to the principal’s office, and he wouldn’t let go of my hand.” She swallowed. “The school called the authorities and they sent a social worker out. She was up to her eyeballs in cases, and though I’m not sure how it happened, I volunteered to take him. He was a lot like Jean. Didn’t talk much, didn’t trust anyone but me. He slept with me the first three nights, clinging to me as if he was afraid I’d disappear and leave him alone.”

  “Did they find his mother?”

  Dana nodded. “She went into rehab, and I took Adam to see her while she was there. I knew he wasn’t my child. I knew it. I had no plans to adopt him. I just wanted to give him a safe place where he could be a child.” She pressed her hand to her mouth.

  “You don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have asked you to.”

  Dana shook her head. “We had a terrific summer. We went to the beach, the amusement park. We hung out on the porch and he learned to read. He gained weight and started to grow. He’d been so undernourished that he was small for his age.” She gave him a watery smile. “He loved fruit of any kind. Apples, cantaloupe, watermelon, grapes—even the kind with seeds. He’d swallow those, too.”

  Dana lapsed into silence.

  “Then?” Brady prompted.

  “Then his mother got released and he was given back to her.”

  “But you knew that would happen.”

  “Yes, I did, and even though I loved him, I knew that she was his mother. But it was still the most difficult thing I’ve ever done.”

  “But it didn’t end there. You said he died.”

  “He was killed.” Dana’s face twisted in pain. “Two days later, his mother started using again. She called me and then while I listened she shot him and herself. I didn’t know where she lived and I could hear Adam crying. Her aim wasn’t that great and she only wounded him. By the time the police were able to trace the call, he was dead.” Her story told, Dana broke down completely.

  Brady closed his eyes and pulled her close.

  “I don’t know w-what else I could have done. I had to help him, but it hurt so much to lose him.”

  “You did the right thing. You couldn’t have done anything differently.”

  “I don’t honestly know anymore. But right or wrong, I’m living with the decision I made. I knew I couldn’t teach there again, so I applied for this job. It’s ideal. Far too much work for one person, which means I don’t have to think and can’t get involved. But what about now?” She smiled helplessly. “I think I’ve just done the same thing again.”

  “Except for one big difference.” Brady’s voice was deep with the emotions he could feel emanate from her.

  “What?”

  “This time you’re not doing it alone.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  BRADY’S WORDS SEEPED into Dana’s subconscious like warm water. She turned to him and he put his arms around her. The ache that she’d managed to control for so many years, had somehow gotten free, finding release in the magic of a child’s laugh and the tenderness of a strong man. Brady’s arms tightened around her and she buried her face into him.

  “For a business arrangement, this marriage feels awfully real,” Dana said.

  “I know.” His voice rumbled against her ear.

  “How can that be?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “The longer we’re married, the harder it will be to consider an annulment.” There, she’d said it.

  “You’re right.” She could feel his lips on her temple.

  “The paperwork would be a mess,” she added.

  “I know.”

  “What’s keeping us from taking a shot at a real marriage? At a real family.”

  He pulled back to look at her. “The annulment was for you. I didn’t want you to be tied to us, if you didn’t want to be. I appreciate all that you’ve done for us and I wouldn’t force you to stay longer than you wanted.”

  “I said the word forever today.”

  “You wouldn’t be the first to take it back. Everyone would understand.”

  “But it’s too late,” Dana whispered.

  “Too late?”

  “I’m hooked. I don’t want to give you, any of you, up.”

  She rose from the couch and held out her hand. He stared at it for a long time. She watched as the battle he fought with his emotions was played out on his face. Passion seemed to be winning, causing Dana to duck her head shyly, though she still kept her hand extended.

  “Unless you’d like to wait until I get more experience,” she said with a sly smile, “I’d like some time alone with my husband.”

  “Dana.” He could barely say her name. “You need to think this through—”

  “More than I did when I agreed to marry you?” She tilted her head.

  Brady grasped her hand and let her pull him up. He stood only inches from her. “You need to be absolutely sure. And I don’t mind waiting until you know me better.”

  “How much better am I supposed to know you?” She felt as if she could barely breathe. “I know you were willing to get married to save three little girls. I know you can cook, you can fix chains on doors, you can tell a mean bedtime story and you’re a darned good kisser. What else is there?”

  He appeared undecided. So she stood on her toes, wrapped her hands around his neck and kissed him.

  “Dana,” he groaned.

  “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a virgin?” she teased.

  He shook his head and then admitted. “Yes.”

  “Don’t be. I’ve read my sh
are of women’s magazines.”

  “It should be special. The first time,” he muttered.

  “And what’s more special than your wedding night?” She balanced herself on the tips of her toes, relishing the heat emanating from his chest.

  “Nothing,” Brady whispered in her ear. With a swoop, he hooked his arm around her legs and lifted her up.

  Dana laughed in surprise, “What are you doing?”

  “Carrying you over the threshold,” he said as he walked down the hall. At the bedroom door, he asked again, “Are you sure?”

  She stared into his eyes, her heart in her throat. “More sure than I’ve ever been.”

  He pushed open the door with his shoulder.

  THE NEXT MORNING, they were awakened by three children creeping up next to the bed. Brady opened one eye to see Jean’s nose a fraction of an inch from his.

  “Good morning, Jean.” Apparently that was the predetermined signal, because all three clambered up onto the bed to wriggle between Dana and Brady. Dana rolled over and smiled. Brady felt his heart jerk. She was beautiful. Still half-asleep, she looked more relaxed than she had in days. It was as if these children fulfilled her in ways that she hadn’t expected.

  “We’re hungry. What are we going to have for our first breakfast as a family?” Karen asked.

  “Cereal?” Brady teased.

  Karen made a face. “This is special. We should have something good.”

  “I have canned spaghetti,” Dana suggested.

  Karen nixed that, too. “Uncle Brady, maybe you can make us those waffles again.”

  “Maybe I can.” He just wanted to lie in Dana’s bed for a minute longer. They couldn’t have been asleep for more than forty minutes. What Dana lacked in experience, she made up for in eagerness.

  Karen yanked his arm out from under the covers.

  He turned his head. “You mean now?”

  She nodded.

  “How about an hour from now?”

  “No.” Ollie poked him in the arm. “Now, right now.”

  Dana laughed. “I guess this is a perk of not being able to make waffles.” Brady could feel her hand reaching under the covers, skimming against his bare thigh, and he realized that he was naked. He grabbed the covers and held tight because Ollie, Jean and Karen were making a game of trying to pull them off.

  “Dana, you don’t want to see some shocked little girls,” he murmured. “Help me.”

  Dana’s laughter was hearty as she slid out of bed. When did she have time to put on a T-shirt and panties? She pulled on a robe and called to the girls, “Let’s go watch some cartoons. Uncle Brady needs a little time to get himself together. He didn’t get much sleep.”

  “He didn’t?” Ollie frowned. “We slept a long time. What was he doing?”

  “Prob’ly watching television. That’s what grown-ups do,” Karen said importantly as she followed Dana out.

  IN THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED, Dana was surprised by how easily the family fell into a routine. The girls turned out to be extremely resilient, readily following the boundaries that she and Brady set for them, even though they’d never had any before. They’d made the decision to have Beverly cremated, and together they’d scattered her ashes into the ocean. In a rare moment of honesty, Bev had once told Brady that she was always happiest when she was in the water.

  The investigators had discovered that Beverly was more than a hundred thousand dollars in debt. When she sold the house in Hollister, she’d made enough money to purchase the house they’d lived in outright. But then she’d proceeded to put more and more on her credit cards. Records on her computer showed that—toward the end—she’d made some pretty desperate wagers to get the money to pay them off.

  The house had been repossessed to pay off her debt, leaving the girls with nothing. But that didn’t matter, because they were still together.

  Dana came to love being a wife and a parent, and those roles made her reevaluate her job. To ease her workload, she relaxed her rigid standards and allowed the students to initiate more of their own learning. In the process, she found the school became a place of greater fun and greater learning.

  The girls refrained from calling her Aunt Dana at school, but the name seemed to catch on. The parents of her students were fully supportive of her unexpected marriage. The women even threw her a small Saturday luncheon, complete with wedding gifts. Her parents traveled from their home three hours north for a daylong visit, too, which made Brady inordinately nervous. For the two days prior to their arrival, he cleaned the house from top to bottom to make sure that it was presentable. He fussed about the menu and ironed everything—even the girls’ jeans had creases. His worry was unfounded, though. Her parents loved him and the girls. They came laden with gifts, so many that Brady kept muttering, “This is too much. Too much.” The girls just beamed, declaring that it felt like Christmas in October.

  Before long, Halloween had passed and Dana was taking down the ghosts and goblins in the classroom and putting up the turkeys and cornucopias. Brady started back to work, switching his schedule so he didn’t have to work nights. Every day, Dana felt a little more connected to her new family and the word annulment was never mentioned.

  One night, after the girls were asleep, Dana read an essay that Karen had written in school. The words on the page made her realize that even though the girls could laugh and sing and sleep through the night, they would carry the scars of their childhood for a very long time. She looked up at Brady who was fixing the girls’ lunches. “I think the girls need to visit their father,” she said.

  Brady didn’t respond. He just continued smearing mustard on the six slices of bread. Dana got up and walked over to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Did you hear me?”

  “I did. But I don’t think that’s something Carson wants.” He spoke indifferently, almost as if he was talking about what to put on a sandwich.

  “Have you talked to him about it?”

  “No.”

  “Brady, in honor of Thanksgiving I asked the kids to write an essay about families. And I just read Karen’s.”

  “So?”

  “So it isn’t hard to see that even though she considers us family, she still has issues about her real mother and father. I think she has to face them. Bev’s gone. That leaves Carson. When was the last time he saw his family?”

  “I think Bev took them to see him.”

  “You think or you know? Brady, why don’t you talk about your brother?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” Brady put the baloney on the bread, plopped on the tops, then efficiently wrapped them in plastic.

  “I think there’s a lot to talk about. You never did say what upset you so much about your visit.”

  “Can’t we just have the girls write letters to him?” Brady finally stopped fussing with the sandwiches and faced her.

  “We could. But you know—he’s going to get out of prison sooner or later. If he waits, if we wait, it’s going to be very hard for the girls to have a real relationship with him. Unless you think he’s the kind of person they shouldn’t have a relationship with.”

  “No! It’s not that at all.”

  “What is it then?”

  Brady shook his head. “I don’t know.” He grasped her hand. “Things are going so well for all of us. You, me, the girls.”

  “Which is what made me think it might be a good time for them to get to know their father.”

  “I just think it’s too soon. I don’t want to do anything that would unsettle the girls.”

  Dana thought about what he’d said. “You don’t think they’d understand that their father can’t care for them, so we’re going to?”

  “They might be able to, but is Jean going to think that if we take her to the prison we might leave her there? Will Ollie trust the strange man we tell her is her father?”

  Dana held up her hands. “You’re right. Let’s start with writing letters. If your brother wants to follow up, he can.” S
he walked back to the couch and put a B on Karen’s essay, rereading her last sentence. Wouldn’t it be nice if all moms and dads liked their kids?

  FOR A WEEK, Brady thought about his brother. Carson’s words still haunted him.

  I did not do anything wrong. I did not launder money. I did not embezzle from my clients. I did not fix my books. But somehow, I still went straight to jail.

  Carson had always declared his innocence. Always. As did just about every person who went to jail. But what Brady never forgot was that he’d been too angry at Carson to listen. He’d turned his back on his brother, just as Carson had done to their mother. Brady closed his eyes, trying to feel again the rage that had kept him from helping his brother. It wasn’t there. It was just a sore spot—like a half healed bruise.

  Even though Dana hadn’t mentioned reintroducing the girls to their father again, he knew the subject wasn’t dead. When three letters from Carson—one to each of the girls—arrived a few days after they’d written to him, Brady felt even worse. Every moment he spent with the girls, every night Ollie and Jean placed a good-night kiss on his cheek or Karen sat next to him as he worked just because she liked to see what he was doing, Brady fell a little more in love with them. But that love brought guilt—as if he was taking away the love that really belonged to Carson. Yes, his brother had made some mistakes, but somehow the punishment of not seeing his daughters until they were almost adults seemed especially cruel.

  Late Thursday night, Brady rolled over in bed to find Dana studying him.

  “Hi,” he said softly. “Can’t sleep?”

  She smiled. “You’re restless. You keep bumping into me.”

  “Sorry.” After a long pause, he added, “I’ve been thinking.”

  “About?”

  “Carson.”

  “What about him?”

  “I think we need to take the girls to see him.” Dana’s surprised pleasure made his heart beat faster. “This weekend?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  Her brown eyes searched his face, “Is there more?”

  “Maybe.”