To Love and Protect

by Muriel Jensen

  She fell asleep on the way home, her hand still on his arm.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CORIE LEANED BACK in her chair at Teresa’s kitchen table. Everyone but Rosie had gone to a sale at Wolf’s Hardware. The house was quiet. She’d researched art schools all morning and concluded that one of the Art Institutes programs would best suit her situation. The tuition was a little steep, but if Jack was still willing to offer help, she’d be happy to accept it, provided he agreed to a repayment plan.

  Rosie sat across the table from her, painting frosting onto star-shaped cookies. “Everybody keeps eating cookies,” she said. “I didn’t think grown-ups liked cookies as much as kids do.”

  Corie laughed and closed her laptop. “Well, this particular bunch of grown-ups is a lot like little kids. They still like to do fun things and eat sugary stuff. Are you all finished writing your fairy tale?”

  Rosie held up the frosted paintbrush while she thought. “Almost done. It’s under my pillow.”

  “Why under your pillow?”

  “So the fairy-tale fairy will find it and make it come true.”

  “Um, I’m not sure there is a fairy-tale fairy.” She watched Rosie suspiciously. The child was usually the last one to fall for fanciful benefactors.

  “There has to be.” Rosie seemed sure of it. “Or else why would they call them fairy tales?”

  Hmm. Fair point. Rosie seemed without the reserve that usually defined her behavior—particularly since she’d found out about her father. There was an acceptance about her that was both laudable and very sad.

  “I have something to ask you,” Corie said, pushing her computer aside.

  Rosie continued to paint, carefully covering every point on the star. “Yeah?”

  “Would you like to come stay with me after Christmas?”

  Rosie’s head came up, her eyes enormous. Tendrils of hair lay against her forehead and cheeks as she finally set the brush down to concentrate, as an adult would do.

  “When would I have to come back?”

  “You wouldn’t. You’d live with me. Always.”

  Rosie stared at Corie. Her face crumpled. Corie put her arms out, inviting her close. She’d seen the little girl cry in sadness before, and in anger, but never in happiness. At least, she hoped it was happiness.

  “You mean, in your little house?”

  “Yes, probably, to start. Then we might go away somewhere new. What do you think?”

  Rosie held her tightly then leaned back to look into her eyes. “What about Soren?”

  “Soren’s going to stay with Teresa.”

  “But...he doesn’t have a mom and dad, either.”

  “I know. But he’s happy here.”

  Rosie stayed in Corie’s arms for a moment, the sweet sugar-cookie smell surrounding both of them. She sighed and hugged Corie again. “No, thank you,” she said and went back to her decorating.

  “Okay.” Shocked, Corie got up from the table and went to do dishes, trying not to feel bad about herself. She was 0 for 2 so far in the love department. She couldn’t snag a husband or a daughter.

  * * *

  EVERYONE RETURNED TO Teresa’s around lunchtime with three pizzas and several bottles of soda. Teresa sent Ben to the pantry for paper plates and cups. Soren followed him in to show him where they were kept.

  “So.” Ben reached up to the top shelf and handed down a pack of napkins. “Do you think you’d like to live in a condo, even if there isn’t a dog?”

  Soren’s eyes grew wide as saucers. “Me?”

  Ben reached up for plates. “Well, there’s only me and you here and I already live in the condo.”

  “Live with you, you mean?” Soren took a few steps closer, his face pale, clearly needing confirmation.

  “Yes,” Ben said, the plates in one hand, the other settling on Soren’s head. “Two guys together through thick and thin.”

  A smile broke and there was elation in Soren’s face. Then a shadow clouded his eyes. “No Rosie?”

  “Ah, no.” He didn’t want to say too much on the chance Corie hadn’t spoken to her yet.

  For a minute the boy looked as though he’d been punched. He gave Ben a frail smile, that pallor deepening. “Thanks, but... I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  Soren shrugged. “’Cause. But...” His voice cracked. “That’s a really nice thing to think about.”

  Completely confused, Ben said, “You mean, you’re going to think about coming with me?”

  Soren’s smile quivered. “No. I’m just gonna remember that you asked me.”

  He walked out of the pantry with the napkins while Ben remained with the plates and a stomach that felt the way Soren looked. Did that mean he didn’t want to leave without Rosie? Whom he constantly harassed or was infuriated with?

  Well, that confirmed it. Ben must be pretty unlovable if a woman who knew he adored her couldn’t love him back—at least, not in the way he needed—and a homeless kid who seemed to like to be around him didn’t want to be adopted by him.

  Wow. Big-time loser.

  * * *

  LUNCH WAS QUIETER than usual, the children silent. Helen handed each of them a gift she’d bought at Wolf’s. Their faces brightened a little then broke into smiles when the torn paper and open boxes revealed snake lights. Soren’s was a serious light with a bendable stem that could be wrapped around a neck for hands-free work. Rosie’s was pink, the bulb head shaped like a puppy.

  Corie smiled at Helen. Every family needed a child-spoiler and Jack’s mother was quite the professional.

  Over lunch the men talked about the power tools they lusted after but didn’t really need. “I’m not in business anymore,” Gary said, “and Jack’s got all my old tools and some great new stuff.”

  “I did like that drill and impact driver,” Jack said, looking nonchalant. “And it came with free batteries for a year. Hint, hint.”

  “I liked the thermal-ionic hair dryer, myself,” Sarah said, leaning into Jack. “Hint, hint.”

  “Thermal-ionic?” He looked skeptical. “What does that do?”

  “The box says it produces millions of negative ions to make hair healthier and shinier.”

  “If you were any more beautiful,” Jack said, leaning in to plant a kiss on her lips, “I’d go insane.”

  A communal “Awww!” rose from around the table.

  The doorbell pealed. Grady, at the end of the table, pushed Ben down into his chair when he tried to stand. “I’ll get it. Takes forever for food to reach my end of the table, anyway. It keeps stopping at Jack.”

  There was a quiet moment while Corie poured more soda and distributed extra napkins. Everyone heard the front door open then Grady’s shocked, “Cassiopeia!”

  Jack was out of his chair like a shot, Corie following him, her heart in her throat. She heard a soft, breathless woman’s voice say, “Cassidy, actually. Used to be Manning, then... Chapman. I’m sorry I arrived without warning.”

  Corie and Jack reached the living room, unnoticed by the visitor, just in time to see her rip off a pair of sunglasses with a shaky hand and wrap her arms around Grady’s neck. “Jack! I can’t believe it! Jack?” Then the young woman collapsed against Grady, completely limp.

  “Whoa!” Grady exclaimed, catching her and lifting her in his arms.

  “The sofa,” Jack directed, standing by to help as Grady placed her among the cushions. Jack bellowed toward the kitchen, “Sarah!”

  Corie took the throw off the back of the sofa and covered her. She pulled off Cassie’s Manolo Blahnik shoes and held them against her, appreciating the artistry that had gone into them and respecting the price tag. And the fact that they belonged to her sister!

  Sarah came running and knelt beside Jack at Cassie’s hea
d. “What happened? Is this Cassie?”

  “Yes,” Jack said. “She just collapsed.”

  Sarah took Cassie’s wrist with her index and second fingers on her pulse. “Strong,” she said after a minute, putting Cassie’s arm at her waist. She pointed to Corie. “Pillows under her feet,” she directed.

  Corie complied.

  “Maybe she’s just hungry. You know, models eat next to nothing. Did she fly in?”

  Grady went to the porch where Cassie had dropped her bag and purse and brought them inside. “Tags on her luggage,” he reported. “From Dublin to New York to McAllen.”

  “Air travel,” Jack said. “She’s probably starving.”

  “I’ll warm up some soup.”

  Corie looked up to see that everyone who had been in the kitchen was now clustered around the sofa. Helen, who had spoken, hurried off, Teresa beside her.

  “She’s so pretty,” Rosie said, coming closer. “She’s your sister?”

  “Yes,” Corie replied. “And Jack’s.”

  The little girl put an arm around Corie’s neck. “That’s nice. She’s not gonna die, is she?”

  “No.” Corie pulled her closer. “I think she just fainted.”

  Sarah gently shook Cassie’s shoulder, saying her name. She patted her cheek lightly then shook her again.

  Cassie moaned, rolled her head fretfully, and opened her eyes. Long, dark lashes fluttered and bright blue eyes turned to Sarah. A frown pleated her forehead.

  “You’re not Corie.”

  Sarah patted her hand. “No, I’m Sarah. I’m your sister-in-law. Jack’s wife. Here’s Jack.”

  Sarah vacated her place on the edge of the sofa for Jack and shepherded everyone else back to the kitchen.

  “Hey, Cassie,” Jack said, squatting beside her.

  She smiled at him. “Hi,” she whispered. “What happened?”

  “You collapsed at the door in Grady’s arms. We thought maybe you were tired or hungry.”

  She laughed lightly. “Both. Poor man. I threw my arms around him, thinking he was you, and then I fainted?”

  This time Jack laughed. “That’s probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him. They’ll be talking about it at the station for years.”

  “The station?”

  “Grady and I are cops.” He pulled Corie closer. “And look who else is here.”

  Cassie raised her head and Jack stood to help her sit up. He and Corie sat on either side of her. “Corie!” she said. “I can’t believe it! I thought you were both lost to me forever.”

  “So did I.” Corie held her tightly, feeling ribs under her fingertips. “But Jack was determined to reunite us. And here we are.”

  Cassie freed Corie and turned to Jack. He opened his arms and held his youngest sister while she sobbed.

  Corie saw through tear-filled eyes that he wept, too.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t call,” she said, still holding loosely to Jack and reaching for Corie’s hand. “But I’ve been dodging reporters and...a few other people. Once my father got the news to me, I headed for the airport. I flew to New York in a baseball cap and sunglasses...” She added in an aside, “That was fun to pull off in December. Dad arranged for a helicopter to pick me up and take me to McAllen. I took a cab from there. I can’t tell you how good it is to see you.”

  “You don’t have to,” Corie said. “We feel the same way. Jack’s mom is making you soup. Can you stand?”

  Jack helped her to her feet and held on until she felt steady. “I am hungry. I boarded the plane without eating and there just wasn’t time between flights. I got peanuts on the plane from Dublin, but the military helicopter had nothing. I could eat a mastodon!”

  Corie laughed, thinking she looked like a goddess and talked like anybody’s best friend. “And keep that body? I don’t think so. Come on. Everybody’s dying to meet you.”

  Jack made introductions. When he got to Ben he said, without thinking how it would sound to her, “This is my brother, Ben. Ben, this is my sister Cassidy.”

  Cassidy looked puzzled. “Your brother?”

  “Right. Gary and Helen adopted me. You were probably too small to remember them, but Jack and I were in grade school together and best friends. They took us in the night our mother went to jail. Ben is their natural son.”

  “Ah. Okay, I’ve got it. Nice to meet you, Ben.”

  “And you.” Ben gave her a quick hug. Corie noticed that even in bare feet, Cassidy was almost as tall as he was.

  They all pushed their chairs together to make room for an extra straight-backed chair Teresa brought in from her office.

  Helen put a bowl of soup in front of Cassie. “It’s chicken noodle—3the kids love it. Hope that’s all right.”

  “It’s wonderful,” she said, smiling around the table. “It’s so nice to meet you all. You won’t mind if I just dig in? I’m starved.”

  There was general approval then everyone busied themselves with more pizza while asking her questions about her trip.

  She answered between spoonfuls of soup, and when she was finished, asked for a piece of pizza.

  Corie looked on, thinking that Cassiopeia looked like a long-stemmed rose in a vase of daisies and ferns. She had everyone’s rapt attention. They asked shameless questions about her life as a model and a celebrity. Grady even wanted to know about Fabiana Capri, a dark-haired beauty now dating a football player.

  “She’s as beautiful in person,” Cassie replied, “as she is in the eight or nine advertising campaigns she’s involved in. She’s in great demand. I believe this year she has the cover for the swimsuit edition of Sports Illustrated.”

  A roar rose among the men.

  “Are you in it, too?” Sarah asked. “Didn’t you do last year’s?”

  She glanced away for a moment, as if considering what to say and Corie wondered what was behind that.

  “No. I’m on a break for a couple of months.” She smiled. “Nothing serious, but I’m hiding out for a little while. The press is driving me crazy. Thankfully, I think I got here without anyone on my trail.”

  “Well, that’s good,” Jack said, pouring her more soda. “Because we want you all to ourselves for a while.”

  * * *

  CASSIDY NAPPED THAT afternoon in Teresa’s bed in preparation for Christmas Eve while Corie volunteered herself and Ben to clean up.

  “I thought women always cleaned up at family dinners so they could bond over doing dishes,” Ben said.

  His mother, already at work wiping off the table, snapped him with a towel. “I taught you better than that.”

  Corie took the towel from Helen. “Thanks,” she said. “I’ve wanted to smack him so many times. You go sit down. Ben and I can manage.”

  “Of course you can,” Jack said, pulling out the extra chair and rearranging the others. “We used paper plates and cups. He always gets the easy jobs.”

  Corie pushed him toward the door. “Nobody asked you, Jack.”

  “I’m just sayin’. When it comes to the messy stuff after Christmas dinner, like mashed potatoes and gravy and candied yams and cranberry, it’s not going to be my turn on dishes.”

  Ben rolled his eyes. “You did the same thing when we were kids. I always got spaghetti night and you did ham-and-baked-potato dinners.”

  Gary caught Jack’s arm and pulled him toward the dining room. “Can’t you tell they want to talk privately? What’s wrong with you?”

  * * *

  “ROSIE DOESN’T WANT to come with me,” Corie said, dropping a stack of cups into the plastic bag Ben held for her.

  He found that hard to believe. “How come?”

  “She didn’t say, but it seems to have something to do with Soren. I think she thought I should take him, too.”

>   Ben groaned. “If it makes you feel any better, I was also rejected.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “You mean Soren said no?”

  “Yeah. He asked if Rosie would come, too, and I said no because I knew you were going to talk to her. Then...he said no. I got the impression he really wanted to, but something held him back. I’m wondering if he and Rosie made a deal or something. One kid gets parents, he makes them take the other one, too.”

  Corie pulled out a chair and sat. She looked depressed. “I don’t know what I’d do with a ten-year-old boy. I mean, he’s a love in so many ways, but he’s strong-willed and needs someone who’d be better at channeling that will in the right direction.”

  Ben nodded. He sat, too. “What would I do with a little girl who’s a cup-half-empty kind of kid? I wouldn’t begin to know how to deal with her.”

  “Actually,” Corie said, “she’s not quite the cynic she appears to be. She’s been working on this fairy tale in which you and I and she and Soren are driving somewhere in your car. A storm comes up and blows us far away where there are no other people. And we stay together as a family. She keeps it under her pillow so that the fairy-tale fairy will grant her wish.”

  He did his best not to look shocked—not only because Rosie entertained such ideas, but that Corie had told him about it while looking him in the eye, her manner very matter-of-fact.

  He dodged. “I’ve never heard of the fairy-tale fairy.”

  “There isn’t one that I’m aware of, but who’d have thought there’d be a fairy assigned to the collection of teeth? Fairies are a fuzzy area in child mythology.”

  “True.” He looked down, cleared his throat and then looked up at her. “So, how do you feel about that scenario—minus the storm, of course? Would you be able to leave here?”

  “I would,” she said without even stopping to think about it. “But I’m worried about getting kids involved in something that might not work.”

  What? “Why wouldn’t it work?”

  “Because... I grew up to trust myself, to do what I thought I could—or should. But you’re always mad at me for it. Like yesterday.”

  He studied the pugnacious expression on her face. She wanted him to reassure her that he wouldn’t question her, that he’d keep his opinions to himself and let her do as she pleased. After the difficult morning, he was disappointed and even a little angry. “Then why are we even having this discussion?” he asked. “If you make no concessions to living like a woman instead of a wild runaway with her hair on fire, then I give nothing, either. The children would be miserable if you and I got together for their sakes and hated it.”