by Gina Wilkins
She frowned, thinking of the deadline looming for the children. Thursday was the last day of the month, the day their rent was due. If the landlady hadn’t heard from their aunt by then, she would call the authorities, and even Ryan had to admit she would be justified in doing so.
Worried by her silence, Nick asked, “What is it, Ryan? Is something wrong?”
“No, not really. It’s just that I’ve run across a potential legal matter and I want to discuss it with you. But not over the phone.”
“Listen, I can be at your shop in half an hour if—”
“Nick, it isn’t an emergency,” she assured him patiently. “I just want to talk to you, okay? Will you meet me for lunch at Juanita’s on Wednesday? One o’clock?” Even if the children’s aunt reappeared in the meantime, Ryan would still enjoy having lunch with her brother, she reasoned. It had been too long since she and Nick had gotten together.
“Make it twelve-thirty. I have to be in court by two.”
“Fine. I promise I’ll tell you all about it then.”
“You’d better. You’ve got my curiosity aroused now.”
Ryan smiled. “It’s good for you. See you Wednesday, Nick.”
Max called the shop an hour later. Ryan answered the phone. She was exasperated that her pulse rate automatically increased in response to his voice.
“I talked to my friend Juliana this morning,” he said. “She’s going to try to find some information for us about the children’s aunts.”
Ryan debated with herself for a moment, then shrugged and decided to give her brother a thrill. She explained that she had set up a luncheon meeting with Nick on Wednesday, then asked Max to join them.
“Your friend, too, if she wants,” she added. “I’d like to hear what she has to say, if she’s found anything by then.”
“Oh, she’ll have something for us,” Max assured her. “I’ll set it up with her. I’ll see you then.”
“Yes,” Ryan agreed, wishing she wasn’t looking forward to it quite so much. How many times must she remind herself that she had no intention of acting on her unwelcome attraction to this man?
Climbed some of the highest peaks in the world…sailed in two international races…played polo with a prince and gone deep-sea diving with a famous news-magazine anchor. Jumped out of planes and off mountains, raced cars, bicycles and motorcycles…rodeo, downhill skiing and bungee jumping.
She could still hear Max casually listing all the adventures he’d had, could still remember the implied warning in his voice when he’d told her that he wasn’t one to settle down or make long-term commitments. She’d known all along, of course—hadn’t that been the reason she’d been so cautious with him? But to actually hear him say it…
She sighed. Max definitely did not fit into her plans. And she’d made them too long ago to change them now, no matter how tempting the short-term rewards might appear to her during moments of weakness.
She placed a call to Mrs. Culpepper after disconnecting with Max. A television blared loudly in the background when the landlady answered; Ryan recognized the theme music for a popular daytime serial.
She explained who she was, then asked if Mrs. Culpepper had heard from Opal yet. The landlady said that she had not. Ryan asked what time Pip and Kelsey usually got home from school.
“They get out at around two-thirty or so,” the woman answered. “They walk home with some of their friends. They stop at their friends’ houses sometimes to play video games and do homework together. I tell ’em they have to be home no later than five.”
Ryan figured she was going to have permanent teeth marks in her tongue if she talked to Mrs. Culpepper many more times. It was so difficult not to express her criticism of the woman’s negligence in supervising the children. She kept quiet only because she was afraid the landlady would immediately call the authorities if Ryan annoyed her.
She hung up the phone with an ominous feeling that she had become involved in a situation that could get very unpleasant—and possibly painful—for everyone involved.
MAX STARED BLANKLY at the screen of his computer monitor. Amber letters marched like upright bugs across the black background; he had no idea at the moment what they spelled out.
He was having a hard time concentrating on Montana’s adventures this afternoon. The reckless, dashing hero was probably quite disgusted with his creator, who’d spent the day dividing his thoughts between a dark-haired, dark-eyed doll-shop owner and two engaging, unfortunate orphans.
Montana, Max knew, would have put that troublesome trio behind him as fast as his nimble feet would have taken him.
Max, on the other hand, was fighting an almost irresistible urge to go to the mall. No matter how many times he’d promised himself he wouldn’t get any more involved than he already was, he still found himself wondering if the kids had gone straight home after school or stopped by Ryan’s shop. It was a cold day. Were they warm? Safe? Were they with Ryan?
Weird. He’d never given more than a passing thought to any kids he’d known before, including his own niece.
He could call Ryan and ask about them. Casually, of course. Or he could run over to the mall and check for himself. Surely there was something he needed to pick up while he was there. Underwear. Socks. Another baby doll for his niece.
He scowled. This was ridiculous. He was acting like a love-struck schoolboy—and love was one trap he had no intention of falling into. Just because his grandfather and father had thrown away all their dreams and led miserable, stiflingly boring lives didn’t mean Max was genetically destined for the same fate.
He shuddered, thinking of how many times his grandfather had rambled on about all the trips he would have taken, all the sights he would have seen, all the adventures he might have had—if, of course, he hadn’t married young and found himself with five kids to support.
Max’s father had once dreamed of being a test pilot. He’d earned his pilot’s license at the age of sixteen and regarded airplanes the way some people worship gold and diamonds. And then he’d met a pretty, blue-eyed blonde who’d teased, tempted and tied him into knots. The week after they’d graduated from high school, she’d announced with a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction that she was pregnant.
Kevin Monroe had promptly abandoned his dreams of flight and had gone to work in his father’s successful insurance firm, providing a good home for his wife and two children. He had then proceeded to work himself into an early grave. There hadn’t been much time for flying, of course. And besides, it made his wife nervous when he risked his life—and her financial future—with that frivolous pursuit of cheap thrills.
Kevin had always assured Max that he didn’t regret his marriage or his children. That he really liked his work in the insurance company. That he didn’t mind sixteen-hour days or mind-numbingly boring meetings and society dinners. That golf was as adventurous a sport as any respectable, responsible married man could desire.
As for love—well, of course he loved his wife. Maybe it wasn’t that heart-pumping, passion-fueled, soul-matched love of fiction and film, but it was…pleasant. Comfortable.
Max was quite proud that he’d managed to avoid the chains of love. No woman had ever tempted him to throw away his freedom, anchor his dreams to a four-bedroom house and a tax-deferred retirement plan.
Max lived on the edge—at least, most of the time. And if he’d found himself taking more and more of these stay-at-home intervals to work and enjoy the quiet pleasures of a morning newspaper and weekly football games in the park, well, that didn’t mean he was getting old or settling down. He was just…resting.
Ryan’s face came to his mind, so clearly that he could see the dimples at the corner of her shapely mouth, could almost picture the flecks of amber in her chocolate brown eyes. The clarity of the image made him decide to put her out of his thoughts and get back to work. He set his hands on the keyboard and scowled intently at the screen, trying to remember where he’d left off.
It was simply a case of
attraction, he assured himself. She was a desirable woman, and he hadn’t been involved with anyone for quite a while. It was only natural that he would be drawn to her. But that serious, commitment-embracing attitude of hers, that determination to follow her strict, long-term plans, combined with her involvement with the needy Coleman children—those were all sure signs that Max should keep his distance. A woman like Ryan could only be trouble for a man like him.
Montana would consider her more dangerous than the latest international terrorist he was pursuing through the deadly back alleys of a war-torn Middle Eastern city.
Max tended to agree.
RYAN WAS RATHER disappointed that Pip and Kelsey didn’t stop by her shop on Monday afternoon. She spent a good part of the evening worrying about whether they’d gotten home safely. She thought of calling Mrs. Culpepper again, but was afraid of annoying the woman, who would only take her irritation out on the children. Surely the landlady would have called her if the children had failed to show up when they were expected.
She woke Tuesday morning thinking of Pip and Kelsey. And Max Monroe.
She told herself that she thought of Max only because he had somehow become connected with the children in her mind. She told herself it had nothing to do with the way he looked, or the way he smiled, or the seductive gleam in his warm, blue-gray eyes. The children were the only connection between herself and Max Monroe, she reminded herself firmly. Once they were safely settled, she would probably never see any of them again.
Her apartment seemed unusually quiet and empty as she ate her solitary breakfast and dressed for work.
It seemed lonely.
THE MORNING PASSED quickly enough. There was a great deal to do, with Christmas looming ever closer. To add to the excitement, Lynn came back to work with the jubilant announcement that she’d been to the doctor on her day off. She was pregnant.
Ryan squealed and hugged her friend, warmly congratulating her on the good news. She thought she did an admirable job of hiding her unbecoming ripple of envy.
She really was pleased for Lynn, who positively glowed with happiness. But Ryan couldn’t help wondering if she would ever know that feeling herself.
It was almost three that afternoon when she looked up from her cash register just in time to see Pip and Kelsey enter her shop. She hurried to greet them with a smile.
“How was your day?” she asked them.
“Fine,” Pip said with a shrug. “It’s starting to rain, though. We were afraid we were going to get wet before we got here. Do you mind if we stay for a little while until it stops?”
“I want to visit Annie,” Kelsey said, already reaching for the dark-haired doll.
Ryan noticed in concern that Kelsey’s cheeks and nose were red with cold, her hair damp from the drizzle falling outside. Her little jacket was pitifully inadequate against the cooler temperatures that were setting in as December approached.
“Don’t you have a heavier coat, Kelsey?” she asked.
Carefully cradling the doll, the child shook her head. “Aunt Opal was going to buy me one, but she hasn’t yet.”
Ryan decided right then that she was buying the child a coat before the mall closed that evening. Pip, too. His was little better than Kelsey’s. She knew she’d have to be careful not to hurt his pride, which was quite advanced for a child of his age. But somehow, she’d manage it.
“I’d better call Mrs. Culpepper,” she said. “Let her know you’re here so she won’t worry.”
Both children looked skeptical that their landlady would be concerned.
Ryan called anyway. As the children had expected, Mrs. Culpepper didn’t react one way or another to the news that they were safe and dry. It was all Ryan could do not to slam the phone back in its cradle hard enough to leave the woman’s ears ringing for a week.
Leaving Lynn in charge for a while, Ryan took her visitors down to the food court for a snack. They stopped by a children’s clothing store on the way back up to her shop.
As she had predicted, Pip hesitated about letting her buy them coats. She soothed his concerns by implying that this arrangement had been made between herself and Mrs. Culpepper.
She felt guilty about misleading the boy, but then recalled the cold front that had been predicted to follow this evening’s rain. She simply couldn’t let Kelsey go off to school the next day in the thin, torn jacket that was all the child owned.
Kelsey was thrilled with the thickly lined, hooded purple coat Ryan helped her select. Pip chose a lined denim jacket, though he eschewed one with a hood.
Ryan was tempted to recklessly buy them entire wardrobes, as much as her credit card would provide. She restrained herself, keeping her purchases to a pair of warm gloves for each of them in addition to their coats, and a thick knit cap for Pip.
“Do either of you have homework?” she asked as they reentered her shop.
“I do,” he admitted.
“Why don’t you do your homework here? I’ll call Mrs. Culpepper and tell her I’ll drive you home later. Kelsey can help me around here until I can get away to take you home.”
Ryan leaned over to whisper to Pip, “I really don’t think Kelsey should be out in this wet weather. She could catch a cold or something.”
Pip hesitated, then nodded. “Is there a table where I can put my books?” he asked, motioning toward the ragged denim backpack he’d dropped on the floor earlier.
“Of course. You can use the desk in my office.”
“I didn’t know you had an office,” Kelsey said, looking around.
“It’s in the back room. It has a computer and everything,” Ryan said with a smile. “Would you like to come see it?”
The little girl nodded. “Do you really need me to help you today?”
“Of course. This is our busiest time of the year and Lynn and I have to wait on customers. We could really use help, um, straightening the dolls’ dresses and hair,” she improvised.
“I can do that,” Kelsey said, looking delighted.
Ryan smiled. “I’m sure you can.”
They really were sweet children, she thought as she led them toward her office. How could anyone not want the best for them?
AT JUST BEFORE 6:00 p.m., Ryan left her shop long enough to take Pip and Kelsey home. It was raining in earnest now; they huddled together beneath her umbrella as they ran up the sidewalk to their door. She took them straight to Mrs. Culpepper’s, who had said on the telephone that their dinner would be ready when they got there.
Sending the children off to wash, Ryan turned to the dour-faced landlady, who smelled of the same beer and perfume she had before. “You haven’t heard from either of their aunts?”
The woman shook her head. “Told you I hadn’t when you asked on the phone,” she reminded her. “Two more days and the rent is due. Had someone in today looking for an apartment, and I got no empties. I’m gonna have to rent it out unless next month’s rent is paid—and I ain’t renting it to a couple of kids I got to keep feeding,” she warned.
Ryan nodded. “I understand. My friend and I are trying to locate their aunts. If you’ll just be patient another day or two, I’m sure we’ll come up with a solution.”
“Yeah, well, I ain’t been feelin’ so good today. Think I’m comin’ down with a cold. Gets any worse, I’m not gonna’ feel like cooking for ’em. You’ll either have to call someone or take ’em home with you until their aunts turn up.”
Ryan swallowed. She’d already considered taking the children in, despite Max’s grim warning of a potential kidnapping charge. She would ask Nick tomorrow what he thought of the possibility—at least until they found out what had happened to the aunts.
She had to admit the idea worried her. What did she know about taking care of two children, even on a temporary basis? Could she really do justice to both them and to her job during this hectic, busy season?
They hadn’t been a bit of trouble today, but could they keep up their so-far-exemplary behavior? Wouldn’t they quic
kly grow bored hanging around her shop, or following her rules when they were accustomed to taking care of themselves?
Freshly scrubbed, Pip and Kelsey reappeared. Ryan kissed Kelsey’s cheek. The little girl clung to the embrace for a moment, then reluctantly stepped away. “Can I see you tomorrow?” she asked. “I can help at your shop again.”
“Of course you may,” Ryan assured her warmly.
“Now don’t you be causin’ any trouble for Miz Clark,” the landlady warned indifferently.
“They aren’t any trouble,” Ryan said. “I have a television in my office they can watch if they get bored, and a big desk Pip can use to do his homework. I’ll call you as soon as they get there, so you won’t worry about them,” she added a bit too politely.
“Oh. Yeah, do that. Er—thanks.”
“Of course.” Ryan turned to Pip. “Would it embarrass you too badly if I gave you a kiss, too?” she asked in a teasing whisper.
He grinned and presented his cheek. “Nah. Go ahead.”
She planted a smacking kiss on his freckled skin and then ruffled his hair. “Good night, Pip. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“’Bye. And if you see Max, tell him hi for me, okay?” The boy made the request with a casualness belied by the wistfulness in his eyes. A wistfulness that Ryan, unfortunately, could identify with.
“I will,” she promised. “Good night, kids. Mrs. Culpepper.”
She left quickly, needing to get back to work, but still fighting that reluctance to let Pip and Kelsey out of her sight. “PIP? Are you still awake?”
The boy squirmed against his thin pillow. “Yeah.”
From the other twin bed in their room, Kelsey cradled her motheaten old teddy bear against her little chest. She was just visible to Pip in the glow of the blue night-light plugged into a wall outlet. “When are we going to tell Ryan that we’ve picked her to be our new mommy?” she asked.
He winced. “I think we’d better wait awhile longer,” he cautioned. “She’s still getting to know us.”
“Was I okay today? I tried to be as good as I could.” Kelsey sounded worried.
