An Accidental Family (12 page)

A
lone in Cammi’s old bedroom, Nadine continued rocking Rosie, even though she’d finished her bottle and burped half an hour ago. Facing the big window seat, shards of the moon’s brilliant white light slanted though the French doors, where gauzy curtains fluttered in the early June breeze.

Holding a baby in her arms again felt good, so good that it inspired a contented sigh. Nadine leaned against the chair’s pillowy backrest and studied the long eyelashes that dusted Rosie’s pink cheeks. She’d have freckles before she was Amy’s age, Nadine thought, picturing Cammi at that age—a tinier, chubbier version of the beautiful young woman she’d become.

“I don’t know why Dad doesn’t just carry you off and make you marry him,” Cammi had said. At the time, Nadine hadn’t given it much thought, but now, under the tranquil influence of soft baby breaths and the mellow gleam of the strawberry moon, she smiled. Since the fire, she’d pretty much run his house single-handedly. How much different could it be as his wife?

With the child safely settled in her portacrib, Nadine
picked up the baby monitor’s receiver and tiptoed into the hall, leaving the door slightly ajar. Lamont always turned in by ten, and after a full day of caring for her dogs and goats and everything related to River Valley Ranch, she wasn’t usually long behind him.

Tonight, though, Nadine didn’t feel the least bit sleepy and decided to get into her pajamas and join Adam and Julie in the family room. On the way, she looked in on her granddaughter. Always a fitful sleeper, Amy had kicked off her covers and dropped her favorite teddy bear on the floor. Smiling, Nadine tucked the sheets under the girl’s chin and lay the stuffed bear beside her. “Now I lay you down to sleep,” Nadine whispered, bending to kiss the girl’s forehead, “and pray the Lord your soul to keep, while His angels watch you through the night, and keep you in their blessed sight, Amen.” After a last glance, Nadine slipped from the room.

As she made her way down the hall, Nadine noticed that Adam and Julie’s door was shut tight, and not even a glimmer of light shone from beneath it. They’d said at dinner that they might turn in early and, evidently, they’d done just that. A tiny thrill went through her, because she couldn’t remember the last time she had an hour all to herself. She’d brew herself a cup of herbal tea, then find an upbeat old movie on cable.

Ten minutes later, Nadine padded into the family room on white-socked feet, a steaming mug of tea in one hand, the baby monitor’s receiver in the other, all ready to settle in for a little peace and quiet. The sight of Lamont, slouched in his buttery leather recliner, stopped her in her tracks and she nearly slopped hot tea onto her hand.

“I thought you’d gone to bed an hour ago.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” He gave a nod toward her cup. “Whatcha got there?”

“Mandarin orange tea.” She held out the mug. “Here, you take this one. The water’s still hot. I’ll fix myself another cup.”

While waiting for the kettle to whistle, she sliced cheese and apples onto a plate and pictured him, slumped in front of the TV in his maroon “Fightin’ Aggie” sweatpants and matching T-shirt. And if her eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on her, the slippers bore his alma mater’s logo, too. Funny, but he looked every bit as dashing as he had in his tux at Lily’s wedding.

“What’s this?” he said, sitting up when she carried the plate into the room.

“I noticed that you didn’t eat much at supper tonight, so I thought you might like a little something to tide you over until breakfast.” She handed him the platter, then stood the baby monitor’s receiver atop a stack of coloring books. “How’s your tea?” she asked, curling up on the end of the sofa. “Sweet enough?”

He took a sip and said, “Perfect.” Then he got to his feet, and in one giant step, climbed over the coffee table. “Nothin’ worse than snacking alone.” After constructing a tower of cheese and crackers, he grinned. “Du-wu-shush,” he said around the mouthful. “Shumpree du-wu-shush.”

Laughing, Nadine said, “Didn’t your mother teach you that it isn’t polite to talk with your mouth full?”

Licking his lips, he began assembling another stack. “Yeah,” he said with a wink, “as a matter of fact, she did.” He punctuated the admission with a merry wink.

“Oh, but I’ll bet you were a handful as a boy!”

“Let’s just say she got plenty of exercise, chasing me with that old wooden spoon of hers.”

He’d never talked about his childhood before. Which was curious, since he knew so much about her life. And her son’s. Nadine pressed for more information. “Did she ever use it? The spoon, I mean.”

“Just once.” He took a sip of tea. “She’d invited a bunch of her friends over—somebody’s baby shower, as I recall—and covered every flat space in the kitchen with cookies and pies and cakes.”

“And you ate something without permission?”

“Couple of somethings, actually, but that isn’t what earned me a whippin’.” He leaned back on the cushion beside her. “See, I’d clean forgot about her party, and after baseball practice, I invited the team over for a snack.” Leaning forward, he assembled another stack. “I tell you, the boys, they laid into just about every pastry they could get their grimy hands on. So by the time Mama and her gal pals came in to serve up those tasty treats…” He chuckled as he popped an apple slice into his mouth. “Let’s just say she wasn’t very happy…”

“Good grief,” Nadine said, laughing. “I can almost picture that, from the boys’ perspective, and your poor mother’s, too.”

He began creating a third tower. “Sounded like a henhouse in there, and those kids ran off so fast, they left heelprints on the seat of their pants!”

“Guess you had a hard time sitting on
yours
once all the ladies went home.”

Eyes wide, Lamont nodded. “Talk about your under-statements!”

He held the last cheese-and-crackers stack between thumb and forefinger, turning it right, then left. It wasn’t until he narrowed his eyes and smirked that she
understood what he aimed to do with it. “Don’t even think about it, mister.”

One hand resting on the sofa’s back, the other elbow pressing into the back cushion, Lamont effectively trapped Nadine. “I noticed that
you
didn’t eat much at supper tonight, either.” He waved the food under her nose.

By the tender age of eight, Nadine had learned that the best way to discourage worm-toting boys on the playground was to pretend she
liked
worms and bugs. They quickly grew bored with the girl who wasn’t afraid of slimy things, and found other girls to torment. If the idea worked then, why wouldn’t it work now?

She opened her mouth wide to accept the treat, and the instant his handiwork disappeared, he returned to his spot on the couch. “Aw,” he said, chuckling as she munched away, “you’re no fun at all.”

“Sorry.”

He turned slightly and, for the longest time, just sat there, gawking at her. Finally she said, “What?”

A slow, easy grin spread across his face. “Can’t a guy just take a minute to thank God for all that’s good in his life?”

Nadine had no time to formulate an answer, for he pulled her to him and tenderly held her face in his hands. She’d seen many expressions on his handsome face, but this? She hadn’t seen this one before. What inspired the glint in those gray orbs, the lift of his brows, the odd angle of his grin? Most striking of all, she noticed a slight tremor in his usually steady hands.

One question stood out among the rest: Did he truly believe she’d started that fire? It was bad enough, knowing that Marcus and others down at City Hall thought she’d burned down her own house, but the idea that
Lamont
might agree? Well, it saddened her to the point of tears.

Pressing both palms against his chest, Nadine tried to break free of his embrace. “I need to—”

“Shh,” he said, laying a callused finger over her lips.

His words and actions sometimes brought back disturbing memories of her years with Ernest, but oddly enough, Lamont made her feel safe and cared for, too. Made her feel more like a woman than she’d ever felt. Surely those were good signs, signs that he could be trusted with her heart.

His arms encircled her and she closed her eyes, trying not to think about the fact that she carried more emotional baggage than the suitcase handlers at the airport. Did he realize what a colossal mistake it would be, linking himself to her?

Cammi’s words echoed in her head yet again, “Why doesn’t Dad just marry you?”

Letting herself fall for him had been crazy. Hoping he felt the same way, well, that was crazier still. But the craziest thought of all? That if Lamont
were
to pop the question, she’d say yes, even though she felt one hundred percent certain of how unfair it would be to saddle him with her problems and predicaments.

If she truly cared for him, wouldn’t she send him packing—for his own good?

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Nadine didn’t trust herself to talk.

The clock gonged the half hour. “There’s a movie about the life of C. S. Lewis starting right now.”

“But it’s eleven-thirty, and you have to get up early tomorrow.”

“So do you. Besides, I never promised to stay awake while you watch it.”

Grinning despite her dark thoughts, Nadine reached for her mug. “You’re out of your mind, you know.”

“Yeah,” he said, snuggling up beside her, “I know.”

Lamont didn’t fall asleep, and neither did Nadine. While the movie flickered silently on the TV screen, they talked. Then moved to the kitchen to make sandwiches and more tea, and talked some more. They might have talked until the sun came up if a nightmare hadn’t roused Amy, who shuffled sleepy-eyed into the room and climbed into Nadine’s lap.

H
e didn’t like looking at the empty chair where she’d sat, so Lamont sneaked upstairs to see what was taking so long.

Even before reaching the baby’s bedroom door, he heard her, softly humming a tune he recognized but couldn’t quite place. Lamont froze in his tracks, not wanting to risk that his heavy footfalls would set off that annoying creak in the floor. When his own girls were small, he’d promised Rose that he’d fix it, and by the time they reached their teens, he thanked the good Lord that he hadn’t, because it never failed to signal him when they stayed out past their curfew.

“I believe in miracles,” she sang. “I’ve seen a soul set free, miraculous the change in one redeemed through Calvary…I’ve seen the lily push its way through stubborn sod, I believe in miracles, for I believe in God…”

When he was a boy, his mother had sung it to him, and whether thunderstorms or scary dreams or monsters under his bed were the cause of his fears, the song never failed to calm him. He held his breath, hoping Nadine would sing the next verse, and the next. But he only heard the quiet creak of the rocking chair.

He’d intended to catch a peek, then go back downstairs. But when he poked his head around the doorframe and saw her sitting there, silhouetted by the amber radiance of the nightlight, Lamont felt as if somebody had nailed his boots to the floor.

Eyes closed, she cradled his precious, peacefully sleeping grandchild in her arms. For many lonesome years, Lamont had loved Nadine from afar, but never more than at this moment. He knew that for certain now, though it wasn’t likely he’d live long enough to puzzle out why it had taken him so long to acknowledge it—but never more than at this moment.

“What’s going on in that handsome head of yours, cowboy?”

He walked softly into the room and crouched beside the chair. He must have reached too quickly to tuck a curl behind Rosie’s ear, because Nadine shrank back, eyes shut tight and one hand up, as if to defend herself from a slap, or worse.

Instinct made him want to pummel the man who, even after years in the grave, could still inspire such a reaction in her. “Nadine, darlin’,” he said, voice raspy from holding back the sob her fear had induced, “remember when I said I’d never hurt you?”

Instantly, Nadine assumed her “Everything is fine” expression. “Don’t mind me,” she whispered, grinning. “Sometimes I’m as jumpy as a grasshopper. I should probably quit drinking caffeinated coffee.”

“Don’t give me that. You can’t pretend forever that he didn’t… That none of it happened.”

“None of
what?
”

“The beatings.” There—he’d said it. Now let her try to deny that Ernest hadn’t abused her.

“I never wanted anyone to—”

“…let not the foot of pride come against me…”

She blew a puff of air through her lips. “Wasn’t
pride
that made me want to keep it a secret,” she said dully, “it was
shame.
”

He had to look away, long enough, at least, to ask for the wisdom to know which words would comfort and reassure her. “Shame? But why?”

“Because I chose poorly.”

Despite his prayer, her words didn’t make sense.

“I ran off with the first good-looking boy who paid any attention to me. I never asked the good Lord what
He
intended for me.” Her lovely mouth formed a thin, taut smile. “I figured those years were penance of a sort. Until I grew up, and realized that isn’t how God works.”

“Glad to hear you came to your senses, but where did you get a cockeyed notion like that in the first place, you gorgeous, brave, amazing, bighearted, nutty woman, you?”

“Why, Lamont London,” she whispered, “are you trying to sweep me off my feet with poetic praise?”

“Harrumph. I forgot to add
funny
to the list.”

“To answer your question, I got the cockeyed notion from my mother. She popped in for an unexpected visit once, about an hour after, a…you know…and when she saw the cuts and bruises, she reminded me that chastisements are a form of love. And discipline, she said, can’t be achieved without first instilling fear.”

“Your mom sounds like a real gem.”

“Oh, don’t be too hard on her. She lived a tough life. And if you want my honest opinion, I think that was her way of rationalizing why she tolerated the same thing from my dad.”

“Makes me sick, just sick, to know that bigger,
stronger people are willing to use people as punching bags, all in the name of love.”

She tucked in one corner of her mouth and lifted a shoulder. “Well, the main thing is, we survived. And stopped the cycle.”

“Ah, darlin’,” he said, brushing a bent forefinger across her cheek, “if I could erase it all, I would.”

She looked at him for a long time, making Lamont wish he had the power to read minds, at least for those few moments. Because he would have given anything to assure himself that glitter in her eyes and the downturn of her mouth didn’t mean she thought
he
was capable of such brutality.

And then she sighed. “You know, I think I believe you.”

He made note of the fact that she’d tacked a qualifier onto the statement. It told him that while she didn’t quite believe him now, she might someday. At least, he hoped she would.

She met his eyes to say, “You’re a good and decent man, Lamont. Have I told you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for us?”

“Only about ten thousand times.”

Smiling, she said, “But have I told you lately?”

Eyes narrowed, he scratched his chin. “I believe you said something along those lines yesterday at breakfast. In plain English.” He pressed a palm to her cheek. “But you say it every minute of every day, in a thousand different ways, when you’re tossing my favorite foods into the grocery cart and folding my bandanas just so, and—”

“I have to get out of here—the sooner, the better.”

Now, why’d she have to go and spoil the moment with a crack like that? “No. You don’t.”

“Yes, I do, because I’m…” She bit her lower lip.

Falling in love with me?
he hoped. He knew that look. If he didn’t come up with some logical, practical reason for her to stay—and do it quick—she might just make good on her threat. “You gave your word that with Peggy gone, you’d help me out around here. Besides, if you leave, your kids will, too. And where would they go?”

He watched her brows inch closer together as she processed that thought. Lamont scooted closer. “Give it time, Nadine, okay? And patience. Before you know it, you’ll have the insurance check and you can interview contractors and talk to an architect and—”

“Can’t do any of that from a jail cell.”

It broke his heart to hear the wooden tone in her voice. “That’ll never happen.”

“Oh? You have some pull down at City Hall, do you?” And then she kissed Rosie’s forehead.

He considered all the things he might say, and since not one of them would ease her mind, Lamont decided to pick up the conversation later. Maybe Frank would come up with something that would clear Nadine’s name.

The baby stirred slightly, and because he’d positioned himself so near, one chubby hand plopped against his cheek. “Will you please put that baby to bed, before our jabbering wakes her?”

Surprisingly, she did as he’d asked.

In the hall, Nadine said, “You know what?”

“What?”

“I believe you.”

And then she hurried toward her room and left him standing outside Rosie’s door, alone and lonely and confused, trying to remember what he’d said to inspire her parting comment.

Adam sat on the couch, a single sheet of notepaper dangling from his trembling fingertips. “I don’t get it,” he said, driving a hand through his hair. “Has she lost her ever-lovin’
mind?
”

Lamont sat on the coffee table facing the boy. “Mind if I have a look?” he asked as Nadine sat beside him.

Dear God,
she prayed,
let it be a mistake. A silly, misunderstanding…

“Dear Adam,” Lamont began, “I can’t live this way anymore, knowing how much you despise and mistrust me. You’re a wonderful father, so there isn’t a doubt in my mind that you’ll take good care of Amy. And just think, without me in the picture, you’ll never have to worry that she’ll pick up any of my bad habits and grow up to disappoint you, the way I have.

“Please tell your mom how much I appreciate all she’s done for me over the years, and tell her that I’m sorry for everything she’s going through because of me. Thank Lamont, too, for welcoming me into his home. I don’t deserve the kindness and patience you’ve all shown, but I’m grateful for it, just the same. Believe it or not, I’m doing this because I love you all so very much.”

Now it was Lamont who ran a hand through his hair. “It isn’t signed,” he said, handing the note to Nadine.

She nearly wept, herself, when she saw the childlike script, and the tears Julie had drawn on the smiley-faced heart at the bottom of the page. There had been dozens of times when she’d noticed the girl, huddled on the sofa, looking alone and afraid, though the rest of them were in the room with her. She’d ignored every maternal instinct that told her that a hug or a kind word might comfort Julie, because she didn’t want Adam thinking she’d taken sides. Why hadn’t she done the right thing,
even if it meant upsetting her son? He’d always been a resilient boy and would have recovered quickly. “Did she pack a suitcase?”

“Don’t know” was Adam’s glum reply. “Found the note sitting on top of Amy’s coloring book, like a little white tent with stupid, ugly news inside it.”

He was hurting and confused, but there’d be plenty of time to comfort him later on. Right now, it was far more important to find Amy and try to talk some sense into her. “I’ll check,” Nadine said.

She raced up the steps, praying the whole way that when she reached the kids’ room, Julie would be sprawled out on the bed, reading or sleeping or even crying into her pillow was better than
not
finding her!

But the bedcovers were tidy and smooth, and Julie’s favorite red backpack wasn’t on the hook behind the door, where she’d kept it since they’d moved into Lamont’s house. Almost-full dresser drawers meant she’d taken only what would fit into the bag. Not much. Certainly not enough to last more than a few days.

“Good news,” she said upon entering the family room, “she probably hasn’t gone far, and I doubt she’ll be gone long, either.”

Adam met her eyes. “What makes you say that?”

“She only packed a few things.” She sat beside him, gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. “What do you bet she’ll be home before dark?”

Her son nodded. “Is Amy in her room?”

“Coloring,” Nadine said, “and listening to her nursery rhymes CD.”

Another nod. “Good. That’ll give me time to think.”

“About…?”

“About what to tell her when she asks why her
mother
won’t be here to tuck her in tonight.”

Frank arrived at the coffee shop ten minutes late. Red-faced and panting, he slid into the booth seat across from Lamont’s and slapped a thick file folder onto the table. “One of these days, somebody’s gonna figure out how to eliminate traffic jams.”

“The guy who does that,” Lamont said, “will get rich quick.”

Frank waved the waitress over. “Roads are under the control of local government. When have you ever known anything to happen ‘quick’ when bureaucrats are involved?” He ordered eggs and bacon, hash browns, tomato juice and coffee. “What’s
your
pleasure,” he asked, “since it’s your tab?”

Laughing, Lamont asked for a refill on his coffee. “Nadine whipped up a rib-stickin’ breakfast. Couldn’t eat another bite if I tried.”

“Harrumph,” Frank said, smirking.

“What?”

“You never struck me as the ‘playing house’ type, is all.”

Playing house? As if his mood wasn’t already foul enough after finding out this morning that she’d given her bug-loving buddy Jim permission to hole up in her barn all this time, and the Julie-gone-missing episode adding to the mess. “As I told you, it’s a temporary arrangement. Couldn’t be avoided, ’cause after the fire, she had no place else to go. And neither did her kids.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he said around a mouthful of coffee.

“She’s upstairs, clear at one end of the house, I’m downstairs at the other end.”

“Methinks thou doth protest too much.”

Lamont frowned. Frank had a point. A good one. Why
had
he felt so compelled to defend himself?

“So you really don’t care what folks are saying?”

Did that mean Frank had heard things? Lamont harrumphed. “I’ve never been one to put much stock in what people think. There’s only one opinion that matters to me.” Using his thumb, he pointed Heavenward. Though, in truth, what Nadine thought and felt mattered almost as much.

The waitress approached, and Frank slid his cup and the file aside to make room for the piled-high plate she carried. He waited until she moved to the next table, then tapped the file folder. “Dug up some pretty interesting stuff.” Peeling a butter tab, he added, “And along the way, got some insights into this li’l gal’s mother-in-law.”

Insights? Double-talk wasn’t Frank’s style. Which either meant he hadn’t found anything worth discussing, or he was trying to avoid telling Lamont some awful truth.

Frank bit the point from a slice of toast. “People talk,” he said around it, “and sometimes what they say ain’t all that flattering.”

Now he wished he’d asked for a refill on his coffee, because sipping it would give him something to do besides gawk at the detective. “Anything negative you heard about Nadine is bunk. I’d bet the ranch on it.”

“Okay, so you’re nuts about her. Point made and taken.” He shrugged. “But in my business, you see a lot of proof that when love talks, it doesn’t always tell the truth. So all right, fall in love, get married, refill that mansion of yours with more babies, even, if that flips your Stetson.” He rested an elbow on the table, used his fork as a pointer. “Just don’t be one of those guys who’s
stupid in love. You didn’t work a lifetime to throw it all away for a pretty face.”