“Monday. I’ll give her my desk until next month when we take over the next store and knock out the wall. You and I can share your desk until after the remodel, okay?”
Brady sighed. “I guess that will work.”
Lizzie blinked. “That’s it, then? You’re going to hire her?” Her words, laced with shock, spilled from her mouth before she could stop them.
Both Collin and Brady turned to stare, as if they’d forgotten she was even in the room.
She stepped up to her husband with one hand shielding her stomach and her eyes wide with astonishment. “I can’t believe you’re agreeing to this.”
Brady rested his hands on her shoulders. “Look, Lizzie, this is between Collin and me.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “In fact, it might be best if you just head on home.”
It was an order rather than a request, and Lizzie felt the prickles of resistance clear up her spine. She lurched away. “I will
not
‘just head on home,’ and this is
not
just between you and Collin.” She whirled around to give Collin the benefit of her ire. “And you! I suppose you weren’t even going to tell Faith about this, were you?”
Collin lumbered up, his mood somber and his tone worn. “Come on, Lizzie, there’s nothing to tell. We hired a receptionist and nothing more. And I know it’s the pregnancy talking and not you – heaven knows how hormones can rile a woman when she’s carrying a child.”
“Don’t you dare ‘hormone’ me, Collin McGuire – you should be ashamed of yourself!”
Brady shot him a look of warning, jerking a finger across his neck.
Collin ignored him. “Look, Lizzie, when Faith was pregnant, I can’t count the times she was over the edge about the slightest little thing – ”
The breath whooshed from her lungs. When her voice came out, it was barely a croak. “The slightest little thing?” she whispered.
“Now you’ve done it,” Brady muttered. He clasped a strong hand on her arm. “Come on, Lizzie, I’m taking you home.”
She jerked free of his grasp. Her voice rose to a dangerous level as she spit out each syllable with deadly emphasis. “
The-slightest-
little-thing
, you say? Oh, and I suppose Faith would be pleased as punch to learn that the woman with whom her husband will be cozily working was once his – ”
“Lizzie – that’s enough.” Brady stepped between them, ever to the rescue with his demeanor of calm. “Neither you nor I know Collin’s past with this woman, and quite frankly, it’s none of our business. Getting upset is not good for you, and it’s not good for the baby.”
“Or you, I suppose,” she bit back with an angry heave.
He exhaled a weary sigh and tugged her firmly into his arms. For the briefest of moments, she struggled against him before collapsing in a tearful heap, limp against his chest. She felt the gentle stroke of his hand against her hair and closed her eyes with a shiver, thinking only of her sister.
“Lizzie, look, I’m sorry . . .” Collin’s voice was low and heavy with regret.
She nodded, emitting a painful whimper.
Brady kissed the top of her head. “Come on, Lizzie. I’ll walk you home.”
Her body stiffened. “Not until Collin promises . . .”
She heard the soft intake of Collin’s breath. “Promise what?”
“That you’ll tell Faith.”
“Lizzie, there’s
nothing
to tell – ”
Her eyes met his. “If it were Brady, Collin, I would want to know. So I could pray.”
He swallowed hard and looked away. “Okay, Lizzie, I’ll tell her – you have my word.”
The weighty sigh that escaped her lungs suddenly left her depleted. She put a shaky hand to her chest and closed her eyes. Collin was probably right. She was overreacting, she was sure. Heaven knows that pregnancies had a way of wringing the fear from her faith. She opened her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, suddenly feeling foolish over her emotional outburst. She stood on tiptoe and gave Brady a shaky kiss. “Don’t be late for dinner – we’re having your favorite.” She ducked her head and made a beeline for the door. “Have a good night, Collin,” she called over her shoulder, then hoped they couldn’t see the flush she felt on her face.
With a jangle of bells, the door shut firmly behind her while she released a quiet sigh, her hand limp on the knob. Heaven help her, she’d done it again – let her hormones get the best of her. She hurried down the sidewalk, quite certain that Collin was right. There was probably nothing to tell, but she’d pray about it all the same. She wasn’t a woman to gamble, but when it came to the welfare of her sisters . . . she didn’t mind hedging her bets.
Genevieve peeked out the kitchen window with a hint of worry in her voice. “I don’t know, Katie, maybe we better go. What if your father comes home early?”
Katie removed a tray of hot cookies from the oven and plopped it on the table with two of her mother’s pot holders. She pulled a spatula from the drawer and began sliding cookies onto a plate. “For pity’s sake, Gen, he distinctly said I couldn’t go ‘gallivanting with friends’ – there was absolutely nothing about you and Lilly coming over.”
Lilly swiped a hot cookie from the platter. “Or baking cookies,” she said with a wink. “Yum – oatmeal – my favorite.”
“My father’s too. I’m hoping to reduce my sentence.” Katie winked, reflecting on her list to coerce her father: 1) fix oatmeal cookies; 2) retrieve and sew favorite shirt from rag basket; 3) clean and polish chess pieces; 4) trim bushes he hadn’t gotten to yet –
“Gosh, Katie, I still can’t believe your punishment is to work the entire summer with a sheik of a lawyer.” Lilly hopped up on the counter with a cookie wedged in her mouth and began swinging her legs as she munched. “You know, it’s downright unfair how lucky you are.”
Katie finished unloading the cookies and began scooping dollops of fresh cookie dough onto the sheet. She blew a strand of hair from her eyes and shot Lilly a pointed look. “Lucky? Are you crazy? Forced to slave the summer away working for a soda jerk, the adult version of my childhood nightmare? No, thank you, Lil. I’d rather be bound and gagged.”
Lilly giggled. “From the sound of it, you may just get your wish. I have a feeling you’ll have to mind both your tongue and your temper. He is your boss, after all.”
Katie grunted and hoisted the cookie sheet into the oven. “He’ll always be a soda jerk to me, nothing more than a hayseed with a law degree.” She set the egg timer and heaved a sigh. “But you are right, Lil. He’s just obnoxious enough to run to Father if I don’t toe the line, so I have no choice. But I’ll tell you one thing, this summer can’t end soon enough to suit me.”
“Or Jack,” Genevieve said with an eye on the cookies. “He’ll go crazy.”
“Mmm . . . maybe not,” Katie said.
“What do you mean, ‘maybe not’?” Genevieve edged closer to the platter and took a reluctant sniff. With a defeated sigh, she moaned and snatched two cookies from the plate. “Thanks a lot, Katie – here goes my diet.”
Katie quirked a brow. “You mean the one you break whenever you get around food? Look, Gen, how many times do I have to tell you to forget the diet – you look fine the way you are. Thin may be in, but we all know that men still like curves. Look at Theda Bara.”
A pout formed on Genevieve’s lips. “I know, but the styles all cater to the skinny minnies like you, and you know it. And you didn’t answer me – what do you mean ‘maybe not’?”
“I mean,” Katie emphasized with a hike of her jaw, “that Father never said one word about the telephone, so I can talk to Jack almost every day.”
“That is, when your father’s not around.” Lilly smirked, mouth full of cookie.
“Precisely.” Katie notched her chin a degree. “And honestly, can I help it if Jack gets a whim to pay me a visit in the middle of the night by throwing a pebble at my window?”
Gen’s eyes bulged as she choked. Katie poured a glass of milk, then patted her on the back as she gulped it down.
“You’re going to sneak out?” Gen stammered, hand to her chest.
“No, just sit on the back porch. It’s not like a date or anything. Besides, I told him no, but you know Jack – if he wants to see me, nothing will stop him.”
“Nothing will stop who?” A baritone voice sounded behind her, and Katie gasped. She whirled around to glare at her brother Steven as he strolled into the kitchen. “You plotting trouble again, Katie Rose?” he asked with that slow, easy grin that melted many a girl’s resolve. At twenty-one, her once shy and brooding brother had transformed into a confident and popular college man, traveling in circles that threatened her father’s peace of mind even more, if possible, than she. He plucked several cookies off the platter and tweaked the edge of her bob on his way to the icebox. “I thought I smelled cookies in here. Bribery won’t work, you know.”
“Hello, Steven,” Lilly whispered in a timid voice, hushed with reverence. All Gen could do was nod, her chipmunk cheeks bright red and chunky with cookie.
Steven poured a glass of milk and grinned at Katie’s friends, his blue eyes revealing a twinkle. “Hi, Lilly, Gen. You part of this conspiracy too?”
“What conspiracy?” Katie demanded. She folded her arms.
Steven took a swig of milk and winked at Lilly. Color whooshed into Lilly’s cheeks, making her and Gen a matched pair. “The one to defy Father and sneak out to see Jack.”
“You’re a fine one to talk about defying Father. At least I don’t drink and carouse at speakeasies half the night.”
Steven grinned and downed the rest of his milk. “Yeah, but you’re not in college yet either, little girl.” He sauntered toward the door, popping another cookie into his mouth before she could shoo him away. “And if Father catches you sneaking out to see Jack, you won’t
ever
be.” He turned, one muscled arm pressed against the swinging door as he swallowed the cookie whole. All at once the charm of his smile faded, and his blue eyes reflected the somber warning of an older brother. “Don’t risk it, Katie. Father’s used to me giving him trouble. But don’t you risk your future by incurring his wrath. He deserves your respect.”
“But not yours, is that it?” Her eyes challenged him.
Steven vented an almost inaudible sigh as he absently fanned a thick hand through dark, auburn hair. A hint of regret flickered briefly in his eyes, reminding her so much of the gentle brother of her past. But it didn’t last long. A swaggering smile replaced his pensive air. “It’s too late for me,” he said with a final word of warning, “but not for you. Stay out of trouble, you hear?” He glanced at Gen and Lilly, reheating their cheeks with a pointed look. “And you two help her, okay?”
The door whooshed closed as Gen and Lilly sighed in unison. “Your brother is such a sheik.” Lilly fanned her face with a pot holder. “Is he still dating what’s-her-name?”
“Maggie Kennedy,” Katie said with an edge in her tone. “And, yes, unfortunately. None of us like her, especially Father. He thinks she’s a bad influence.”
Gen chewed a cookie, her eyes lost in a dreamy stare. “Maybe, but I think Steven’s the bad influence – the way he looks is pure danger for any girl.”
“What I wouldn’t give for danger like that.” Another sigh parted from Lilly’s lips.
“And speaking of danger,” Gen said with a glint in her eyes. “Does Jack have any idea who you’ll be spending your summer with?”
Katie scrunched her nose. “Trust me, Gen, the only ‘danger’ this summer will be if Farm Boy thinks he can push me around. But to answer your question, no, Jack has no idea. I figure there’s no sense in stirring the pot, especially when the stove the pot is sitting on is stone cold.”
Lilly glanced at Gen, then shot Katie a crooked grin. “I don’t know, I’d keep that spoon handy if I were you. Gotta feeling that hayseed lawyer knows his way around a stove – and a girl.” She wriggled her brows as she bit into a cookie. “And something tells me he has a knack for turning up the heat.”
The egg timer beeped and Katie jumped. Her lips flattened into a tight line as she armed herself with pot holders. She removed the tray from the oven and placed it on the table. The warmth of the cookies steamed her cheeks along with a blush, forcing a stubborn bent to her jaw.
She gripped the spatula like a weapon, flipping a cookie too hard and breaking it in two. “Well, I’ll tell you one thing, Lil,” she said with a threat in her tone, “
if
by some freak of nature he
does
manage to ‘turn up the heat’ . . .” She popped the broken piece of cookie in her mouth and smirked. “It sure won’t be me who gets burned.”
T
he dreaded Boston Children’s Aid Society.
A silent moan wallowed in Katie’s throat as she stood on its threshold, wishing she were anywhere but here. She smoothed her pleated skirt with sweaty hands while sneaking a nervous glance at the back of her legs to ensure her seams were straight. With a deep draw of air, she hiked her hem to readjust her rolled silk stockings, then allowed the navy material to flounce back to just below her knee. She straightened her shoulders, grateful for the two-inch heels of her new Mary Jane shoes, which helped somewhat in rising to the occasion of working with a pest from her past. She thought of Mr. Luke McGee at the age of fourteen – a little twerp who’d been almost a head shorter than she – and wished the little beggar had never grown an inch. She hiked her chin to summon her confidence. Even so, she’d lay good money on the table that her five foot two could take his six foot three any day of the week.
At least
mentally.
Her lips squirmed into a devious smile.