PERFECT (5 page)

Tom leaned over
her door. “Everyone has time for love, sweetheart. They might not think so, but
when love finds them, everything else becomes secondary. You’ll see.”

He pushed the door
closed, sealing her inside the frigid space, and walked toward his car, which
because of the heater the windows were snow free.

Snow crystals
laced her windshield’s edge. Her breaths coiled in the air in frosty puffs. She
rubbed a circle on the window and watched as the warm vehicle dipped under her
friend’s weight. “What in the creation do you have planned for me, Tom?”

With his
windshield wipers swooshing, Dylan navigated the two-lane highway that wound
its way around Green Lake and up the mountain. He nearly missed the turn off
into his brother’s driveway because, once again, he was thinking about Darcy
Witherspoon’s full, rose-colored lips. At the last moment, he shook out of his
reverie, yanked the steering wheel to the left, (a very dangerous thing to do
on a snow packed highway) and fishtailed onto the pine-tree-lined lane.

“Mother f--” His
curse cut short as he focused on keeping his truck on the road and avoided, by
inches, ramming into a century-old tree. “I’m not going to have to worry about
anything if I don’t get my head screwed back on straight,” he mumbled between
clenched teeth, knowing he had been damn lucky. He adjusted his position on his
leather seat having slid a bit off-angle with his off road maneuvering tactics
and then slapped the heater knob, shutting it down completely. He was hot
enough for multiple reasons.

Because of Darcy.
And because of his desire for Darcy. And because Darcy was off-limits with a
capital O-F-F.

“No more thinking
about her, Dylan boy,” he ordered himself. “She’s Tom’s girl and you are not
going to jeopardize your relationship with Tom over a fling.” But damn, it was
hard not to think of the redhead. He’d never felt such a pull toward a woman.
The attraction had been mutual too, that was the kicker. She had felt the spark
as their hands connected. He’d seen it in her very expressive eyes. He gripped
the wheel harder and shifted on the bucket seat, trying to relieve the
discomfort of pressure against his jean’s zipper. “Damn it, Dylan,” he warned
himself. “Mutual or not, you will not go down that path.”

He swept the back
of his hand across his forehead as if that’s all it would take to erase her
from his thoughts and concentrated on the here and now and not on the
what-if’s. Both his driveway and this one would need to be plowed in the
morning. Clearing the lanes and the three others he did for elderly neighbors
would take him a couple of hours. Afterwards he would make his deliveries of
maple products, and then while he was in Black Moose, he’d stop by the general
store and pick up Buzzy’s rabbit pellets, the dollhouse furniture he’d ordered
as Christmas gifts for the girls, and maybe those dolls that drank from fake
bottles and pissed.

Feeling his mind
resetting back to its normal state, he yawned while continuing to cling to the
steer wheel, and wrestled to keep his SUV’s tires in the ruts gouging the snow.
In a little more than seven hours, he’d have to rise, wake the two munchkins,
make their breakfast, and if the school bus didn’t make it up the Green Mountain
knoll, he’d have to plow them out before driving the girls to school. Which,
meant he’d better set his alarm an hour early, just in case. Six months ago, he
could’ve lived on as little as four hours of sleep a night for weeks on end,
but somewhere over the past few months he had grown older, and boy, he
cherished a stretch of eight hours of sleep.

The girls, plus
taking care of two homes and working several jobs was beginning to wear him
out. Most nights he crawled into bed shortly after tucking them in and sawed
wood in under ten minutes, but tonight, he had a feeling that was not going to
happen. As tired as he was, he just knew once he was alone in his room, with
nothing but darkness for company, Darcy with her friendly smile, sexy southern
accent and a body made for exploration was going to visit him and keep him
tossing for hours.

Maybe if he
concentrated hard on the image of the girl on the slope tonight, the one who
had tried to give him her room key, he could keep Darcy’s image at bay. He bit
his lip, trying to conjure up the girl’s face, but no go. Somehow that prospect
held no appeal.

The lane opened up
to the ten-acre clearing and the house came into view.

“What the hell,”
he said, sliding to a stop aside the two-story home. Every light in the house,
except for the bedroom he was using, were on. Why weren’t the girls in bed? Had
something happen?

Dylan jammed his
truck into park, jumped from the vehicle and rounded the front fender before
the engine wound down. Was that Katy crying?

His pulse shot
into overdrive. It was Katy. She sounded in pain.

He clambered up
the front porch stairs two at a time, juggling his key ring in search of the
key to unlock the front door. The motion sensor detected his presence and the
lights, anchoring the door on either side, clicked on. Willa, his sitter,
always kept the house locked down after he left, which was a good thing, except
when he wanted in now.

What would he tell
his brother and sister-in-law if either of their little girls had been hurt?

Why had he stopped
for a drink, instead of coming right home?

He was such an
idiot for feeling sorry for himself because he had chosen to give up a year of
freedom. He made the decision. He had said yes. He could’ve easily had said no
and the girls would’ve been sent to stay with one set of grandparents or the
other, or both, and then he’d have his freedom. To do what? Nothing important.

With trembling
fingers, he unlocked the door and rushed into to the living room where Katy’s
bellowing echoed off the plastered walls. “What’s wrong?”

Willa sat on the
sofa, cradling Katy on her lap.

There was no blood
or bruises or cartoon bandages covering up boo boos, as Katy referred to them.
The only abnormalities were the little girl’s sandy blonde curls were totally
askew and puffy and pink bags underlined her shimmering blue eyes.

“She had a
nightmare.” Willa continued to rock back and forth, soothing Katy with a
whispered shhh.

He placed a hand
over his heart as it sunk back into place and sighed. “A nightmare. That’s all?
I thought she was cut or fell or—”

“She had a bad
dream about Mom and Dad,” Jillian cut him off, peeking around the side of the
wingback chair. “She said they weren’t coming home.” Jillian’s dark lashes cut
off the reflection of sadness on her younger sister’s face. She wiped a finger
under her nose before disappearing from his view again.

His stomach
twisted into a knot the size of a basketball and his brain screamed,
Idiot
!
After spending so much time in the girl’s company, he should be able to see
sorrow in their faces and know something was seriously wrong.
Fuckin Idiot!

“Of course they’re
coming home,” he said, punching his words with positivity.

“I told them that,
several times, but they don’t believe me,” Willa replied. The teenager looked a
little uneasy herself, which probably didn’t help to reaffirm her words as the
truth. She had to accentuate her words with attitude like he did.

Although, neither
one of the girls appeared to be cheered by his words either.

Dylan smoothed his
hand across Jillian’s long, silky hair, tugged it slightly, as he always did,
and winked down at her. She held Buzzy, the dwarf rabbit, on her lap. The pet’s
nose twitched constantly, probably waiting for the opportune moment to escape
from the girl’s arms and hop to its favorite spot, behind the sofa. “Did you
try to call me?”

“No. She just woke
up maybe ten minutes ago. I thought I could calm her down and have them back in
bed before you got home. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.
Here—let me take her.” He circled the coffee table and lifted his youngest
niece from the sitter’s arms. The five-year-old weighed less than a pillow case
filled with feathers, even though she ate like a lumberjack.

Katy wound her
flannel-covered arms around his neck and snuggled close to him. The scent of
soap and bubblegum mingled with the fresh night air still radiating from his
coat. Willa had made sure the girls were bathed, had brushed their teeth, and
had gargled with the kid’s flavored mouth rinse, advertised to prevent
cavities.

“I’m sorry I’m
late. Do you want me to drive you home?” He closed his eyes and kissed Katy’s
forehead, wishing he could erase whatever dreadful nightmare had upset her.

“No. That’s okay.
My dad called a few minutes before Katy woke up.” She stood and smoothed back
the little girl’s hair, smiling as the soft curls bounced back into place. “He
said the town roads are pretty clear. I just need to take my time, use my head
and I’ll be fine.”

“The driveway is a
little sloppy. Are you sure? I can get the girls dressed and drive you.”

“No. Really.” She
slipped into her coat that had been lying over the sofa’s back and tugged on
her rainbow-colored scarf, gloves and beanie. “I’ll be good. I’m going to call
dad and let him know I’m on my way while my car warms up. Thanks for the offer
though.”

“Call me when you
get home, will you? If I don’t hear from you, I’ll come looking for you. And if
you do get stuck, stay put, and call both your dad and me.”

“Sure thing.
Thanks.” Wearing a brighter smile, Willa pinched Katy’s cheek and then
Jillian’s before heading out the door.

Katy sniffled into
his neck.

Willa was probably
happy to be away from the situation he now had to address.

Dylan lowered
himself onto the settee next to Jillian and repositioned Katy on his lap. He’d
read in one child psychology book that talking out a bad experience was a good
thing. He didn’t see how reliving something bad was good, but who was he to
argue with the experts? “Do you want to tell me what your dream was about?”

“No.” Katy
sniffled again and cuddled closer to his chest, pulling her knees to her body
and bare feet under nightgown. “I don’t want to think about it. It was very,
very bad.”

“Uncle Dylan,”
Jillian said softly, without looking up at him. “Can we call Mom and Dad?”

Jillian’s fingers
disappeared in her rabbit’s fur.

Katy had shared
her dream with her sister.

They were not
scheduled for a Skype call with Elizabeth until Wednesday night and Bob hadn’t
been reachable for a month, which had him worried. The only comfort was that
Elizabeth had had contact with his brother, just last week.

Dylan pulled back
his coat sleeve, making a big deal at looking at his watch. It was afternoon
where Elizabeth was, but the girls thought they were on the same time schedule.
That way they didn’t feel like there was a great distance between them. “I
don’t think your mom is up right now. It’s really late,” he lied. The army
wouldn’t accept a five-year-old’s nightmare as an emergency. “I tell you what.
Why don’t I put your story-time tape in and you can listen to your mom read to
you.”

“Yes.”

“It’s not the
same,” Jillian said, over the top of Katy’s answer.

“True, but you can
see your mom longer.” He wrapped his arm around his older niece. “Her calls are
limited to five minutes. The tape is an hour long. She made them for you.” He
winked, hoping she’d get the signal that she was the big sister who needed to
be strong for her little sister. “For Katy.”

“Can Mom read the
elf story?” Katy’s hand turned his face to him. “You’re getting whiskers like
Santa.”

Her soft fingers
tickled his cheek. “Yes. Gray ones too.” He turned to Jillian. “How about it?”

A second passed
before Jillian let go of Buzzy and the rabbit dashed off her lap. “Mom read
that last time. How about Frosty?”

“Yeah. I like
Frosty.” Katy scrambled up on her knees and Dylan whimpered, lifting her off
his lap and shooting to his feet. “What?” She looked at him oddly.

He drew in a
breath, thinking of what he could say besides, “Because you just crushed my nut
with your knee, you don’t have to worry about having cousins any longer.” The
little girl wouldn’t understand.

“You hit him where
it hurts,” Jillian stood up, pulling her nightgown around her legs.

“Oh.” Katy trapped
his face between her palms. “I’m sorry I hit your gonads.”

Dylan sputtered.
“Where did you learn to talk like that?”

“School. We learn
a lot in school,” she responded, wearing an innocent mask.

“Well, what do you
say we keep … I mean let’s not talk…”

“He doesn’t want
you to say gonads again,” Jillian offered, looking up at him.

“Yes. That’s
right.”

“Okay,” Katy chirped
and then wiggled out of his arms. “Let’s go see mom.”