Patchwork Family

by Judy Christenberry

Sara’s smile disappeared. “But I want him to be. Can’t you ask him, Mommy? I think he’d like to be part of our family.”

  “No, Sara, I can’t ask him. And neither can you,” she hastily added as Sara stared at her. She knew how her daughter’s mind operated. “We’re going to be our own family. It may be a small one, but it’s an extra good one. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Sara agreed, but her face looked glum.

  “It’s time for us to eat a quick lunch and then go get ready. And I have a surprise for you,” she added, glad she had something to distract her daughter.

  “What?”

  “I bought us both new dresses to wear. Yours is very pretty.”

  “A new dress? Where is it?”

  “In my bedroom. As soon as we eat, we’ll go upstairs and look at it. Put your toys away.”

  Fortunately, Sara seemed to forget her plan to expand their family as she stored the dolls in the dollhouse and ran back to set the table.

  “DARLING, I HOPE YOU’RE GOING to take me to a late lunch after we do this reception thing. I haven’t seen you in weeks!” the svelte blonde gushed as soon as she got off the plane. She clung to Quinn’s arm and smiled adoringly up at him.

  “Um, Clarisse, I’m sure you’ll find a lot to eat at the reception. Molly is a great cook.”

  Clarisse snuggled even closer. “Molly…such an old-fashioned name. Is she one of those sweet, grand-motherly types?”

  Quinn couldn’t keep from thinking about the last time he saw Molly, when he’d kissed her. “Uh, no, she’s more the happy homemaker type.”

  “Oh, poor Quinn. No wonder you wanted me to come. Is she making a play for you, looking for a man to take care of her?” Clarisse fluttered her lashes at him. “I know how you hate that type. Fortunately for me, I have Daddy’s money. I don’t need a man to support me.”

  By that time, they’d reached the car, and he held the door open for his guest. Yeah, Clarisse Donald was fortunate, because she was no more equipped to be independent than Molly was to let someone else control her life. If she had to do without everything but food and water, Molly would before she’d let some man support her.

  “I don’t have to be back until Tuesday,” she said as Quinn slid behind the steering wheel.

  Damn. He’d made her reservations and had her on a plane leaving at five that evening. She knew that. “Unfortunately, I’ve got a very busy week ahead of me. I’m even going to have to work after I put you back on the plane.”

  “But I’ve already changed my reservation,” Clarisse told him, triumph in her gaze.

  He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the reservations number for the airline she’d flown on. It was the one he usually used. Even as Clarisse protested, he changed her reservation back to that evening.

  When he hung up, she lamented, “But, Quinn, we’re not going to have any time alone!”

  “Sorry, Clarisse, but this just isn’t a good time.”

  In fact, he’d already realized he’d made a mistake, bringing Clarisse in from Chicago for the reception. What had he been thinking? Molly wasn’t interested in him.

  But he’d panicked when he thought about that kiss. As casual as it was, had been intended to be, it had shaken him.

  So now he was stuck with Clarisse for the afternoon.

  When they reached the Victorian home on Ivy Lane, Quinn discovered they weren’t the first to arrive. Numerous cars lined the quiet avenue.

  After parking, he hurried inside, with Clarisse glued to his side. The entryway was crowded with people he’d known all his life. In particular, his two brothers.

  “Hey, Quinn, where’s Dad?” Seth asked. Jenna, his wife, wasn’t in sight.

  Quinn shrugged his shoulders. “I had to pick up Clarisse at the airport, but Dad had already decided he wouldn’t come with me. I thought maybe you or Brady were picking him up.”

  Brady shook his head. “I thought he was coming with you.”

  “You both remember Clarisse, don’t you?” Quinn hurriedly said as the woman stroked his arm.

  Both his brothers nodded and greeted her, but their gazes returned to him, questions in their eyes.

  He quickly asked, “Where’s Jenna?”

  Seth grinned. “She’s giving tours of the suites upstairs.”

  Quinn couldn’t hold back the next question. “And Molly?”

  “In the dining room,” Seth said. “That’s where most of the people are, trying to taste everything. Brady pointed out the muffins.”

  “Yeah, she made bite-sized ones, but they taste just as good. And did you see that Christmas tree cake?” Brady asked, enthusiasm in his voice.

  “Well, really, I had no idea hors d’oeuvres were so important to men,” Clarisse said with an arch laugh that set Quinn’s teeth on edge.

  “She’s a good cook,” he responded simply. Then he took Clarisse’s arm to move her in the direction of the dining room. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

  “I’m in no hurry to meet Muffin Molly,” Clarisse protested. “I much prefer the company of three handsome men.”

  “Don’t call her that!” Quinn snapped.

  Clarisse opened her mouth—to protest, he presumed—but all three men were distracted by new arrivals. Their father entered, accompanied by Lydia Perry, one of the quilters.

  “Hello, boys,” Elias said in a booming voice. “You know Lydia, don’t you?”

  Lydia’s cheeks were bright red. It could be the cold weather, but Quinn figured it might be nerves. He stepped forward and kissed her cheek. “Of course we do. How are you, Lydia?”

  “Fine, Quinn. Your father was kind enough to give me a ride today.”

  “Good.” Clarisse tugged on his arm, and he made the introduction to Lydia.

  “We’re on our way to meet Mrs. Molly Homemaker,” Clarisse said, “if you’ll excuse us.”

  “Where is Molly?” Lydia asked, frowning at Clarisse’s snide tone.

  “In the dining room,” Quinn said, suddenly reluctant to present Clarisse to Molly.

  “Does she have any of those muffins?” Elias asked eagerly.

  Clarisse rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you men are fixated on muffins.”

  “They’re damn good,” Brady said, staring at Clarisse, “and yes, Dad, she does. But there are lots of other good things, too.”

  “We’ll go with you,” Elias said, catching Lydia’s hand in his. “Oh, your coat, Lydia. We’ll get too hot.”

  “Quinn forgot to take mine, too,” Clarisse said as she slipped off the full-length mink. As Quinn took it, she struck an obvious pose, waiting for his response. She was dressed in a cocktail dress, cut startlingly low over her breasts.

  It was Brady who commented. “That’s quite a dress, Clarisse.”

  “Better than muffins?” she asked, but everyone realized it wasn’t a question they needed to answer. Clarisse obviously thought she knew their reply.

  “No,” Elias said without any pretense as he handed his and Lydia’s coats to one of the women acting as assistant hostesses.

  Clarisse arched her brows, then patted Lydia on the arm. “You poor dear. He’s obviously past the age to—”

  “Clarisse!” Quinn snapped, warning her not to go too far. Then he drew a deep breath and headed for the dining room, a sinking feeling in his stomach that disaster was in the offing.

  MOLLY HAD WORRIED that her new dress wouldn’t be appropriate, once she’d noted how it clung to her body. She’d bought it in such a hurry that she hadn’t realized how faithfully it followed her outline. She hadn’t worn a sweaterdress in years, but it had felt so good, so comfortable, she’d thought it would give her confidence.

  Its cowl neckline framed her face without the discomfort of a turtleneck, and its royal-blue color was a favorite. As she greeted her guests, they seemed to approve of her choice, so she’d relaxed.

  Until she realized the newcomers included Quinn with a beautiful blonde in a stunning dress. Suddenly she felt dowdy. “Good afternoon,”
she greeted the group formally.

  “The place looks terrific, Molly,” Quinn said in a low voice with a smile. Then he added, “Let me introduce Clarisse Donald, a friend. You already know Lydia, of course, and this is my father, Elias Spencer.”

  Molly nodded to the blonde, kissed Lydia’s cheek and offered her hand to Mr. Spencer. “I’m so glad all of you could come.”

  Clarisse was the first to respond. “Oh, I never turn down an invitation from my lover. Every minute I can spend with Quinn, even attending a reception—” she made it sound like torture “—is worth whatever I have to endure.”

  She snuggled up to Quinn and kissed his cheek.

  Her message was so clear it could’ve been in neon lights. Hands off, he’s mine.

  Molly tried to justify the nausea she was feeling. The woman was too obvious to be believed. And the warning wasn’t necessary. Molly had known Quinn wasn’t going to have a role in her life. Other than legal.

  “How nice,” she said, ignoring Quinn’s embarrassment. “Maybe after you look around, Quinn will take you somewhere more enjoyable.” And she turned her attention to Elias Spencer and her friend Lydia.

  Elias was explaining to her about his enjoyment of the muffins when Clarisse touched her arm, interrupting.

  “I’ve embarrassed Quinn, so I’d better apologize. I didn’t mean coming here was torture. At least—” she paused to giggle “—no more than anywhere else with a crowd. You know how it is when all you want is to be alone.”

  “Of course, I understood what you meant,” Molly said with complete sincerity. “Please feel free to cut the tour short and find somewhere you can be alone. Quinn has done his duty.”

  Then she resumed her conversation with Elias and Lydia, escorting them personally to the buffet displayed on the different tables.

  “Isn’t she horrid?” Lydia asked in a whisper.

  Molly smiled but shook her head.

  “Yeah, she is,” Elias agreed. “I never have liked her. I don’t know what got into Quinn, bringing her all the way from Chicago.”

  Molly was pretty sure she knew, but she wasn’t going to contribute to this conversation. “Jenna is upstairs give tours of the two bedrooms I’ve finished, with the quilts in place. I hope you like them, Lydia. After you’ve sampled some of the food, be sure you see them.”

  “Oh, yes, I can’t wait. Elias, Molly has decorated the bedrooms around our quilts.”

  “Then I know they’re terrific. We’ll go up as soon as I taste those little sausage things, along with the muffins. You’ve got to taste these muffins, Lydia.”

  Molly left them to greet other newcomers, but she was intrigued with the comfort level between those two. She hadn’t heard that Lydia was dating anyone, but she was certainly an attractive woman. And Elias Spencer seemed much more at ease with small-town life than his son.

  She forgot those two when she turned to the next arrival. Ursula Wilson stood glaring at her.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Wilson. I’m so glad you’ve joined us,” she said, smiling.

  “It would certainly be hard to ignore you with all the traffic and noise clogging our little street. I knew it would be like this!”

  “This is a special circumstance, Mrs. Wilson. The Breakfast Inn Bed only holds ten or twelve guests at a time, not the several hundred who are visiting today.”

  “So you say now, but I’m sure you’ll be wanting to expand before we know it, with your toe already in the door. Then it’ll be like this all the time!”

  “I don’t think I could handle that much business,” Molly said mildly, keeping her temper under control.

  “Good, refer them all to us,” a man said, laughter in his voice.

  Molly was delighted to welcome Joe Santori and his wife Susannah. They ran the other bed-and-breakfast in town. She’d talked with them about being competition for the business and had found them delightful.

  “Joe, Susannah, thank you for coming.”

  Susannah stepped forward to kiss her cheek, surprising Molly. “We couldn’t miss it. Gina’s been raving about the place since she interviewed you. She came with us, but she stopped to visit with some friends.”

  Molly’s eyes widened. “Good heavens, I never put it together. You’re related. I should’ve—”

  Ursula Wilson snorted in disbelief. “Everyone knows Gina is their— Well, Joe’s daughter. You can quit playing the innocent.”

  Molly’s cheeks heated up, and she struggled to remain calm. “I guess I should have made the connection, but I’ve been reading Gina’s column ever since I moved here, and I thought of her as someone famous.”

  Joe chuckled. “I’ll have to tell her that. Of course, now you’ve offended Susannah.”

  Molly felt she was going down the tubes quickly. “I did? I’m sorry,” she began, a frown on her face.

  “Just ignore my socially inept husband,” Susannah said with a chuckle. “He’s referring to some books I’ve done on life-styles, but I don’t expect them to appeal to everyone.”

  Molly shook her head, ashamed of her gaffe. “I didn’t know. I’m so—”

  “And so you should be,” Ursula agreed, venom in her voice. “It just goes to show that an outsider shouldn’t come into a community and try to compete with our people.”

  Molly realized they’d drawn an audience and felt sure the reception idea had been a disaster. She wondered if her business would survive.

  “Compete?” Joe boomed. “Molly isn’t going to compete with us. We’re going to work together, referring people to each other’s place when we get full. And looking around, it’s going to be a pleasure, Molly. You’ve done a fantastic job.”

  There was a kind light in his eyes, echoed in Susannah’s smile, that boosted Molly’s spirits.

  “Hear, hear!” Elias Spencer called, and began clapping. Everyone who’d been listening joined in.

  “Have you tasted her muffins?” Elias added.

  QUINN LEFT THE AIRPORT with a sigh.

  What a mistake in judgment he’d exhibited. Clarisse had made the day so much worse than he’d expected. She’d done her best to embarrass Molly several times, particularly when he hadn’t taken the hint and moved her away. But he wouldn’t give in to that kind of pressure.

  Nor would he allow her to force him into marriage. She’d intimated to everyone they met that they were lovers and had permanent intentions.

  Not likely.

  Well, he had to admit he’d slept with her a couple of times. She was an attractive woman who didn’t mind using her body to gain social prominence. He’d succumbed before he realized her personality canceled out the sexy body she showed off.

  That dress she’d worn today had shown her for-sale sign to everyone who looked at her.

  Molly, on the other hand, had exhibited class, never more evident than when Ursula Wilson had attacked her. Quinn had been so proud of Molly.

  But with Clarisse in tow, he couldn’t say anything. It would only have drawn more venom to Molly.

  Which was why he was headed back to Molly’s right now. He knew she’d be tired after her afternoon, but the reception was supposed to have ended at three. That was two hours ago. He and Clarisse had left a little before three, and he had to admit the crowd hadn’t thinned out, but he felt sure they’d all be gone now.

  He was going to offer an apology for Clarisse’s behavior and praise Molly for her handling of Ursula Wilson. When he’d suggested the reception, he hadn’t envisioned an all-out attack on Molly, but she’d handled it so well, he felt sure public opinion would be in her favor.

  He hoped she was still wearing that blue dress.

  With a frown, he warned himself to keep his mind off Molly’s appearance. But she’d looked so sexy, so…touchable, that he hadn’t been able to ignore her. And he’d tried to watch to make sure the other men there didn’t get too enthusiastic about greeting her. She didn’t seem to realize how attractive she was.

  Of course, Clarisse had drawn attention with he
r crass appearance, too, but Quinn figured she’d asked for whatever she received.

  Not that anyone was rude. Or even interested. Clarisse didn’t fit in Tyler.

  Molly, however, was perfect.

  For Tyler! Perfect for Tyler. Not for him, of course. He wasn’t interested in marriage.

  Visions of Molly, as she was dressed today, of little Sara, cute as a button in her party dress and so proud of it, filled his head. They were both special ladies.

  Remembering the admiring looks in some of the men’s eyes, coupled with Martha’s remark about finding a husband for Molly, had Quinn pressing hard on the gas pedal.

  He needed to make sure Molly was okay.

  Just because she was a client, of course.

  Nothing more than that.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I insist,” Jenna said. I’m going to get a lot of business out of the work I did for you. And you shouldn’t be cooking after all you’ve done today.”

  Jenna and Seth, her husband and Quinn’s oldest brother, hadn’t left yet. Jenna wanted Molly to go out to eat with them.

  “I think Jenna’s right,” Elias Spencer agreed. He and Lydia were lingering also. “We can make a party of it.”

  “May I join you?” Eden Frazier, the florist who’d done the arrangements for the reception, asked.

  Molly drew a deep breath. Her preference would be to withdraw to her bedroom and close her eyes, but it was clear that wasn’t an option. “Of course you can,” she said with a smile. “Your floral arrangements were perfect and added so much to the reception. I’d love for everyone to join us, as long as I pay for my and Sara’s dinner. And as long as you realize a four-year-old will be there,” she added, rolling her eyes.

  “Good,” Pam Kelsey said. “That way Patrick and I can bring Jeremy and join you, if you don’t mind.”

  “You know I don’t,” Molly said. “In fact, maybe I should buy your meals because it will make Sara so happy to have Jeremy with her.”

  Patrick, his arm around his wife, objected. “Don’t even think of it. It will work for all of us.”

  Brady, who had also been waiting, joined in, as well as Kaitlin.