Fairy-Tale Family. Pat Montana
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barely brush his chin.
Thoughts like that would get him into a whole lot of trouble. He fought to keep from reaching out to brush wisps of hair from her forehead. Undaunted, she turned her face up to him—and wiped out his resistance.
“I didn’t know King would be so...restricted, but I’m sure he’ll want to wheel himself around as soon as he can. When classes start again, I’ll fix his lunch before I leave. The kids will be here after school.”
She smiled up at Mitch, a tired, unwavering little smile that never made it to her eyes. “You don’t need to worry about King. We’ll manage, won’t we, guys?”
Mitch wanted to yell at her. He wanted to believe her. Damn it, what he really wanted to do was kiss her. But he couldn’t do any of those things.
“Ellie, you can’t even lift the TV with the help of your ragtag kids. How do you think you can take care of King?”
Ellie’s determined voice never faltered. “I always take care of my responsibilities.”
In her eyes, he read the challenge, What about you?
Michael hopped from one foot to the other in front of the living-room windows. “When will they get here, Mom?”
“I don’t know, hon. Why don’t you go do something? Time will go by faster.”
Following her own advice, Ellie moved from the windows that looked out on the tree-lined side street of KirkKnoll. Shoving hands deep into the pockets of her overalls, she circled the small living room for the fifth time, nudging Gabe’s feet from the sofa where he’d stretched out to read a book. Feeling confined, she pulled her hands free, straightened magazines on the coffee table, picked up a stray crayon, combed fingers back through Rafe’s hair. Bubba Sue looked up at her from her place next to him on the floor.
“How many more minutes?” Rafe never took his eyes from the cartoons on the reinstalled TV. Bubba Sue’s tail thumped.
“I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”
But not soon enough. Ellie wanted to see King with her own eyes. She wanted to know for certain he was recovering from the terrible car crash. She wanted to evaluate for herself how difficult it would be to care for him.
“Mommy, how many minutes is soon?” Seri still perched on the windowsill, her nose pressed against the glass, a tissue-paper flower clutched in her hand.
Ellie glanced at her watch. “Maybe fifteen.”
Fifteen minutes and Mitch and his father would be here. Half a day and Mitch would be gone. Just as she had hoped.
Be careful what you wish for. She could still hear her father’s voice issuing his favorite warning. At eighteen, she’d wished for an exciting life, and look what Peter had given her. She glanced at her four beautiful children—all of whom Peter had abandoned.
When she and Peter had eloped, her father had disowned her. But he couldn’t fault her wish this time. Mitch Kole was just another variation on her flamboyant ex-husband—full of charm and persuasion. But when responsibilities became too demanding, ready to head for the hills. In Mitch’s case, the mountains. Hardly a fairy-tale kind of guy.
Ellie sighed. Mitch was far too attractive, but maybe she was finally beginning to learn that princes and rescues and the power of love only showed up in stories. Maybe she could start to trust her judgment again.
“They’re here! I see Mitch’s car! The King and The Prince are here!” Seri shouted. Bubba Sue started barking.
Michael grabbed a tissue flower from the sofa and thundered down the front stairs.
Seri tugged Ellie’s hand. “Let’s go, Mommy.”
“We’ll all go, but wait for me at the bottom.”
That was all they needed. Flowers in hand, Rafe and Seri raced after Michael, the little black dog close behind. Only Gabe stalled at the top landing.
Ellie followed his gaze to the strange contraption in the ceiling of the stairwell that Mitch had rigged before breakfast. With a man like Mitch, there was always something new like this, something intriguing.
She waited as Gabe shuffled down the stairs behind her. At the bottom, he slouched against the door frame and dug his hands deep into his pockets.
“Okay, remember what I told you.” Ellie directed her words especially to Michael. “Mitch is responsible for getting King upstairs. We’ll help when it’s needed. Otherwise, we’ll stay out of the way.”
That was what she’d decided last night. She would make sure Mitch got King safely settled in. She would have him show them how to take care of his father. Then they would all wave as he drove off to the airport.
She and her kids would manage. They had to. Somehow.
“They’re here, they’re here, can we go out now?” Michael pranced in the narrow entryway like a colt ready to run.
“Okay, but be care—” Before she could finish, they were out the door. All except Gabe. Just as well. The three younger ones were as excited and noisy as a circus parade—just the kind of welcome King needed to lift his spirits.
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go help.” She put her arm around Gabe’s shoulder and nudged him outside. “King will want to hear what you’ve been doing at the store.”
She followed her children to the curb where King sat in the back seat of Mitch’s rental car. They crowded around the older man delivering their paper flowers, but Ellie still managed to get a good look.
King looked better than she’d expected. For some reason, she’d imagined he would lose his salt-and-pepper hair. She’d worried that his broad shoulders would stoop and the mellow lines of his face would be tight with pain. It struck her again how much he looked like Mitch. How much Mitch would someday look like him. But appearance was where the similarities ended, she thought with regret.
She moved nearer, and King smiled at her through the open car door, a warm, accepting smile, the kind her father had so rarely given her.
Abruptly his face knotted into an exaggerated scowl. “Rafe, come get this plastic bag out of here. It’s got my toothbrush in it. And my bedpan.” He winked broadly. “Gabe, Michael, get these sweet smellin’ flowers away from me and give them to your mom before the dam things die. Here, Seri, you’ll have to take care of this for me. Those nurses accused me of just keepin’ on going.” He handed her a giant pink rabbit with sunglasses, flip-flops and a big bass drum.
Seri squealed with delight. The stuffed animal was almost as big as she was.
“Where’s that son of mine? Let’s get this show on the road.”
A muffled grunt rose from the rear of the car—the sound of a man about to lose his temper. Ellie resisted the urge to go to his rescue. Brief though the activity was, bringing King home was the one responsibility Mitch had accepted. She’d vowed to leave this much to him.
Another grunt followed, this one suspiciously like a word she didn’t allow her children to hear. Good sense told her to keep her distance. Habit sent her hurrying to the car.
Mitch leaned almost double into the small trunk, tugging on a wheelchair. Reaching in, she straightened one of the smaller wheels. The chair pulled free. Mitch jerked backward.
“Ouch!” He dumped the chair on the pavement and reached up to rub his head. “Son of a—”
Ellie raised her eyebrows.
“...sea lion,” he added lamely. “Dam small trunk,” he muttered, working his fingers on his scalp.
Ellie shoved her hands into her pockets, which didn’t help at all. She still had the urge to run her own fingers into his dark hair.
“Thanks,” he grumbled. “I can take it from here.” He opened the chair and wheeled it to the sidewalk.