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Authors: Loree Lough

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BOOK: An Accidental Family
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He knew better than to argue with her, so tomorrow, he’d deposit a generous check in her bank account. “You’re a doll, Peggy Flannigan. A living doll.”

“You take real good care of our girl now, y’hear?”

“It’ll be my pleasure,” he said, and he meant it.

Chapter Six

N
adine leaned into the room and peered around slowly, thinking she could have fit her entire second floor into the space. The soles of her shoes sank into the plush carpet, silencing every cautious step. A shard of sunlight slanted across its deep burgundy border and illuminated bright white roses that bloomed in the center.

Nadine perched on the corner of the four-poster bed, absentmindedly fingering the clothes Lamont had neatly stacked on the silken coverlet. If she stayed here a year, she wouldn’t have time to wear everything!

An antique mantel clock ticked steadily above the stone fireplace, reminding Nadine of her father’s watch. Sliding it from her pocket, she popped the lid. Two minutes fast, she thought, grinning at its face. Snapping it shut again, she furrowed her brow, because the watch was about the only thing she could depend on right now.

Well, that, and Lamont.

His drive to Amarillo for pizza would keep him gone nearly an hour, more than enough time for her to shower and change into one of Lily’s pretty outfits.

Nadine half ran downstairs to check on the kids, and smiled when she rounded the corner to the family room and found them cuddled together on the big leather sofa, fast asleep.

A quick inspection of the kitchen told her Lamont hadn’t been exaggerating. The cupboards truly were bare. First thing tomorrow, she’d borrow his pickup and drive into town to restock the pantry. And the fridge and freezer, too. She’d never done anything halfway, and didn’t intend to start now. After all he’d done for her and the kids, Lamont deserved her best.

She headed back upstairs and, closing the door behind her, rolled her eyes at the thought of calling this enormous, elegant room hers.

Lamont hadn’t just laid out clothes for her, she realized. He’d provided everything a woman could possibly need—shampoo and conditioner, a hair dryer and curling iron, perfumed talc and a basket of assorted makeup products, still in their wrappers. They all seemed too new to have been Lily’s. Then she remembered that, after dropping her off at Kate’s salon, he’d ducked out to run a few errands.

Behind the bathroom door, Nadine found a fuzzy white robe. On the hook beside it, blue pajamas, decorated with white moons and stars and, on the floor beneath it, matching slippers. Dense, oversized towels hung from the burled wood towel rack near the room-sized shower stall. After stepping out of her clothes, she grabbed one, then, twisted gleaming brass faucets, stood under the comforting spray.

Without warning, a steady stream of tears joined the warm water rushing down her cheeks. Was she crying because of all she’d lost? Or because, having lost everything, she’d become a charity case?

Suddenly, anger replaced sadness. “Lord,” she whispered, eyes closed “give me strength like you’ve never given it before. Because I’ve never
needed
it more.”

 

Lounging in his overstuffed leather recliner, Lamont remembered Nadine’s “Norman Rockwell” comment. If the artist were still alive and working, Lamont would commission him to capture the scene before him.

Two pizza boxes lay open on the coffee table between soda cans and a half-empty tumbler of milk. On her tummy in front of the armoire, Amy giggled at Shirley Temple, who mimicked a miniature monkey in a bellhop’s uniform. Adam snored softly at one end of the sofa, and Julie dozed at the other, while Nadine pinched bits of crust between thumb and forefinger, and snuck them to Obnoxious.

Short bouncy blond curls framed her exquisite face, and not even baggy black sweatpants and a still-baggier T-shirt could hide her figure. After sneaking a last treat to Obnoxious, she folded her hands under her chin, and smiled at him. “What’re you lookin’ at, cowboy?”

You,
he wanted to say, and who could blame him?

She pointed at the TV. “You’re missing the best part.”

Huffing, Lamont said, “Frankly, I wish the producers would shred every inch of that footage.”

One hand over her chest, she gasped. “Lamont, this is an American classic!”

“Maybe so, but the networks air it so often, I’m sick of it.”

“We are terrible, terrible people.”

“Why?”

“Because I feel the same way!”

The only thing between them was a narrow end table.
He reached across it and grabbed her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

She eased her fingers from between his. “Think it’s too warm for cocoa?”

“Cocoa!” Amy was on her feet in a flash. “My
fay
-vorite!” she squealed. “Can we have marshmallows on top, too?”

Nadine looked at Lamont. “Do you have any marshmallows?”

He rubbed his chin. “Don’t rightly know.” Fact was, he didn’t know if he had the makings for cocoa, either, but he’d drive clear into town, right this minute, rather than disappoint Nadine or her adorable granddaughter.

He started to suggest that they all go to the kitchen to find out, but stopped himself. She’d feel a lot more at home if he let her rummage through the cupboards herself. “Why don’t you two have a look-see? And if you don’t find what you need, I’ll drive us all into Amarillo for the supplies. I need to restock the pantry, anyway.”

Nadine’s warm smile was proof enough that he’d made the right choice. He watched her pad out of the room, fuzzy slippers flip-flopping against the soles in sync with the tick-tack of Obnoxious’s claws on the hardwood. He knew it was selfish, but Lamont hoped it would take months, years even, to settle her insurance claim, interview contractors and rebuild. Because what he’d told her earlier had only been half true.

He would enjoy having her here, and already regretted the day she’d have to move into a place of her own.

Chapter Seven

A
my looked so sweet in her frilly fairy princess dress and matching pink tiara that Lamont could barely resist the urge to hug her. He hadn’t felt this content in the big old house since his own girls were small. Her happy laughter and innocent games were proof that in the weeks she’d been at River Valley, Amy felt more and more like it was home. Maybe too much at home, if the mess on his office floor was any indicator.

“Young lady,” he said as she skipped into his office, “we need to have a talk.”

The instant she saw him kneeling amid the clutter, her playful smile vanished, and before he had a chance to ask what had happened, tears pooled in her big blue eyes. “I didn’t mean to do it,” she said. “It was a ax-dent.”

Sitting in his high-backed desk chair, he plucked a tissue from the container between his boots and patted his thigh.

Head down, she took slow, careful baby steps toward his outstretched arms.

“Now then,” he said, settling her on his knee, “how ’bout telling me what happened in here?”

She let him blot her tears, then said, “I was looking for crayons, and thought maybe you keep them up there.” Amy pointed at a high shelf on the bookcase behind him. “I couldn’t reach, so…”

So she’d pulled out the file drawers, and used them as steps, Lamont reasoned. And the cabinet tipped, spewing papers like a metal Vesuvius. “Darlin’,” he said, gently holding her upper arms, “do you realize how dangerous that was? Why, that cabinet could have landed on top of you and…” The horrible image cut his words short, and he gave her a little shake, as if to punctuate his fear.

“Oh, Unka Lamont.” Sniffling, Amy buried her face in the crook of his neck. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Gathering her close, Lamont kissed the top of her head. “Aw, I’m not mad.” He held her at arm’s length. “I am a little disappointed, though. Do you know why?”

“’Cause I came in here without permission?”

Resisting the urge to grin, he chucked her chin. “That’s right. Now, next time you can’t find something, I want you to come find me, and we’ll look for it together. Okay?”

Wiping her nose on a ruffled pink sleeve, she nodded.

“Now what do
you
think your punishment should be…for breaking the rule?”
And for scarin’ the daylights outta me.

On the heels of a deep sigh, Amy’s brow furrowed as she considered possible consequences for her actions. “No dessert for a year, and no Shirley Temple movies for
two
years.”

Smiling, Lamont pressed a fingertip to her lips. “I don’t think we need to do anything that—”

“Mean?” she finished.

Smiling, Lamont said, “It isn’t ‘mean’ for someone who loves and cares about you to do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” Hands bracketing her cherubic face, he forced a frown. “I don’t make up these rules just for the fun of it, you know. There’s a good reason for them.” A silvery tear tracked down her cheek, and he caught it with the pad of one thumb.

“All right,” she said, shoulders slumped. “Let me have it. What’s my punershment?”

Lamont scratched his chin and narrowed one eye. “I think, for something like this, fifteen minutes in a chair is perfect.”

Her eyes brightened. “Thanks, Unka Lamont!”

Hugging her tight, he laughed and, kissing her cheek, said, “Which chair will you sit in?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” she said, smiling. “Yours, of course.”

“Why that one?”

“’Cause it smells like you, and I love how you smell!” She climbed from his lap and headed for the door. “Will you tell me when my time is up, so I can help you clean up this big mess?”

“That’s okay, kiddo. I’ll take care of it.”

She disappeared around the corner, reappeared even before he’d bent to retrieve the first file folder. “Can I read while I’m punished?”

“Sure.” Amy was halfway down the hall when he added, “Just make sure it’s a book you can reach without climbing!”

Ten minutes later, he found her in the family room, curled up in his chair, leafing through a gigantic picture book. He perched on the arm and said, “Good news, time’s up.”

Amy’s brow furrowed as she closed the book. “Already?”

“Already,” he said, ruffling her hair. “Now what say you have some fun on the tire swing?”

Blond curls bobbing, Amy got to her knees and wrapped her arms around him. “I love you, Unka Lamont.”

“Love you, too, darlin’.” Surprised by the tears stinging his eyes, Lamont quickly added, “I’m hungry. How ’bout a snack before you head outside?” And before she could answer, he scooped her up and carried her into the kitchen. “I’m in the mood for a fried egg sandwich.”

“Me, too.” Hiding a grin behind one hand, she added, “Can I have bacon on mine? I
love
the way you fry bacon.”

Hours later, Lamont decided to fix the loose hinge on the back door, and took a shortcut through the family room. Amy sat in his chair, quietly scribbling in a coloring book, while her dad slept soundly on the sofa.

“You must’ve spiked a fever,” he said, nudging the younger man’s boot with his own, “or you’d be in the barn, ankle-deep in hay.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Adam sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Just sat down minute, to think a spell. Guess I must’ve dozed off.”

“Guess you can’t walk and chew gum, either.”

“Huh?”

Lamont shook his head. “Can’t think and work at the same time?”

The younger man frowned. And so did Lamont. “Best way I’ve found to deal with your troubles,” he said, “is to bury ’em. Bury ’em deep under hard,
backbreaking work. That’s how I got through those first miserable months after…” Even after all these years, he couldn’t make himself put
Rose
and
died
in the same sentence. “…after I lost Rose.”

Shoulders slumped, Adam nodded. “I’ll try, but—”

“Ever see
Star Wars?

Adam frowned.

“That old wrinkled dude—I forget his name—said something my own pa used to tell me when I was a boy, ‘Do or do not. There is no
try
.’ That’s good, solid advice, and you’d be wise to take it.”

Lamont went off to fix the hinge and repair the doorknob, too, when he heard Adam in the barn, tossing things around and grumbling like a grizzly with a tooth-ache. Lamont tried to put himself in the boy’s shoes. If his wife had emptied their bank accounts and gotten them evicted, he’d have been just as angry. Would’ve felt betrayed and hurt, to boot.

Yet another reason to thank God for his years with Rose. To his knowledge, she’d never kept a secret from him. Always frugal, even in good times, the woman could stretch a dollar to the snapping point, and do it without a word of complaint. If Julie didn’t even possess enough confidence in Adam to confess checkbook errors, where would she find the fortitude to make things right down at the bank—and between her and her husband!

He’d heard it said that girls often marry men like their dads. Too bad the reverse wasn’t true, because Adam would have been a good sight better off if he’d picked a girl more like his mother.

Instantly, Nadine’s image popped into his head. Thank the good Lord, he thought, that he was alone on
the porch, because he’d have a dickens of a time trying to explain why oiling a squeaky hinge made him grin like the Cheshire cat.

 

Nadine dragged the vacuum cleaner into the family room. “I thought your daddy was asleep in here,” she said, kissing Amy’s forehead.

The child turned a page in her book. “He woked up when Unka Lamont yelled at him.”

She put down her dust cloth. Lamont had scolded her son? “What’re you doing inside on such a pretty day?”

“Well, at first it was ’cause Unka Lamont told me to sit here. And now, it’s ’cause I
want
to.”

“Why did he tell you to sit here?”

“’Cause I made a big mess in his office.”

“You did?”

The child never looked up from her work. “Uh-huh.”

But she’d just been in his office, and hadn’t noticed so much as a paper clip out of place. Her heart ached for Amy, far too young to understand why her family had been traipsing from place to place like a band of nomads these past few months, or why her parents couldn’t spent two minutes in the same room without arguments and accusations. Despite it all, Amy’s sunny disposition had remained intact—during daylight hours, anyway. Fitful sleep and frequent nightmares were proof that the situation was taking a toll on her.

Lamont had raised four girls, so why couldn’t he see that?

Yes, it had been an incredible act of Christian kindness, the way he’d welcomed them into his home. Nadine owed him a lot, and so did her kids. She’d kept her end of the bargain, after all, cleaning and cooking,
taking care not to overstep her bounds. Maybe it was time to suggest that the next time he was tempted to browbeat her son or discipline her granddaughter, he talk it over with her first.

“I’m going to see if your daddy would like some lemonade. Would you like some, too?”

Peeking over the pages of her book, Amy’s eyes crinkled with a sweet grin. Oh, how she loved this child!

“Can I have chocolate milk instead?”

“Of course you can.” Nadine kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be back in just a few minutes, with chocolate milk
and
cookies!”

She found Adam in the barn, shoveling dung from the horse stalls. “What happened to your plan to take a short nap?”

Without looking up, he said, “Seems your boyfriend had other plans.”

“First of all,” she said, “he is
not
my boyfriend. And second, I want to know what, exactly, he said to set you off.”

Adam draped gloved hands over the pitchfork’s handle and shook his head. “It seems he sees me as some kind of knock-kneed sissy, wallowing in self-pity because Julie’s stupidity put us in the poorhouse.”

“Adam,” she said, “there’s no need to resort to name calling.”

He gave a shrug and got back to work. “Maybe Lamont has a point. Beggars can’t be choosers, after all.”

Nadine felt her cheeks reddening. Was that really how Adam saw things? “Honey,” she began carefully, “I’ll agree that between the fire and Julie’s lack of bookkeeping skills, you have a lot on your mind. But living here…well, I’d hardly call us beggars. We all pull
our fair share of the load around here. Why, even Amy makes her bed and picks up her toys every day.”

If he heard her, Adam gave no sign of it. So she grabbed his right hand and yanked off his glove. “Just look at those blisters. You didn’t get them lounging around, wallowing in self-pity!”

Adam pressed a light kiss onto Nadine’s cheek, then took back his glove. “I hate to admit it, but I never broke a sweat to earn ’em, either.” Grinning mischievously, he waved her away. “Now get on back to your woman’s work, why don’t you, so I can rub another callus onto my manly palms.”

It had been a long time since she’d seen him smile that way. God bless him for trying to make the best of a bad situation. “You’re not too old to turn over my knee, y’know,” she teased. “By the way, where’s Lamont?”

“Uh-oh, I know that look. You aimed it at me every time I messed up as a kid. Do me a favor, Mom, and let
me
decide whether or not I need defending.”

“Are you aware that he punished Amy?”

Again, he leaned on the tool. “For what?”

She shook her head. “She said something about making a mess in his office.”

“You know as well as I do that he pretty much gave us the run of the place. The only room that’s off-limits is his office. Amy knows that, so if she went in there—and I don’t see why Lamont would give her a time-out if she didn’t—then she needs to pay the price.” He met her unwavering gaze with one of his own. “Isn’t that how you taught
me
to respect the privacy and property of others?”

“Well, yes, I suppose. But I didn’t see evidence that she’d—”

“What
I
see is that no amount of work we do around
here can repay him for what he’s doing for us. The least we can do is show the man a little respect, and stay out of the one room he’s asked us to stay out of.”

He wasn’t her little boy anymore, that was for sure. And he was right, too. “How ’bout if I make your favorite for supper—spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread, and tapioca pudding for dessert?”

“Sounds great.”

As she made her way out of the barn, he said under his breath, “Things could be worse, you know. Lots worse. We could have our present difficulties, and Pa to cope with.”

A chill snaked up her spine at the mere thought of it. And the main reason she managed to shake it off so quickly was because of Lamont’s generosity. “Have I told you lately how proud I am of the man you’ve become?”

Chuckling, Adam shook his head and went back to work. “Call me when it’s time to lick the tapioca spoon.”

Head down, Nadine hurried along the flagstone path connecting the barn to the kitchen, thanking the good Lord for closing the book on the Ernest chapter of their lives. Adam had been right. If they’d been forced to cope with his father’s ferocious temper on top of everything else—

“Ooomph,” Lamont sputtered as wrenches, pliers and screwdrivers clanked to the walk. Grinning, he worked his jaw from side to side. “Where are you going in such an all-fired hurry?”

“Sorry,” she admitted, touching the tender spot where his chin and her forehead had collided. “I didn’t see you.” She realized suddenly that she’d forgotten
to ask if Adam might like some lemonade. “I was just going inside to start supper.”

Laughing, Lamont bent to collect his tools. “Supper? But it isn’t even lunchtime yet, pretty lady.”

Oh, how she wished he’d quit calling her that, because it was almost word for word what Ernest said to her after a beating. It made her wince. “The sauce needs hours and hours to simmer,” she explained, stooping to help him gather nails and nuts. Nadine was happy to have the distraction, because with the uncomfortable subject of Adam’s scolding and Amy’s punishment between them, she didn’t trust herself to meet his eyes.

“What’s on the menu?”

“Spaghetti,” she said. And as she leaned forward to collect a runaway bolt, Nadine’s forehead plowed into Lamont’s chin a second time, this time knocking him off balance. Lying on his side in the fetal position, he started to laugh, a low rumbling sound that built in volume and heartiness.

BOOK: An Accidental Family
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