Lost and Found Groom by McLinn, Patricia (my miracle luna book free read .TXT) 📕

got out of the car. Then, with the door still opened, she called his name and he leaned back in.

She didn’t stop to think about the words. “Are you still available for babysitting Saturday, Daniel?”

His eyebrows rose slowly.

“Yeah, I’m available.”

He sounded almost as if he thought she meant to push him away somehow. But that made no sense when she’d offered what he and Fran had wanted–an opportunity for him and Matthew to be alone.

Trying to puzzle that out must have left a gap in the conversation and some doubts in Daniel’s mind, because he asked, “Are you sure?”

“About Saturday? Yeah.”

He gave her a long, considering look, and she knew he understood how unsure she was about so much else.

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me until you’ve survived the night.”

His lips turned up–a faint smile, but a real one. No twists, not ironies to it.

He straightened, but he didn’t move away from the open door. After a full minute he bent down, and she could see his face again.

“Kendra–”

“Don’t start in again about saying you’re sorry or saying thank you, Daniel.”

“Okay, I won’t. How about if I say I owe you a steak dinner.”

She smiled. “That you can say.”

*

“Daniel? This is Robert. Your brother.”

“Hello, Robert. Everything okay?”

“The purpose of my call is to ascertain that information. Is everything okay with you?”

“Me? Fine.” If you didn’t count the fact that the mother of his son wouldn’t open herself up to his being in their life permanently and that his doubts about being a parent kept dripping acid in his gut. “Just fine.”

“Then why have you told your supervisors that you won’t be returning after your leave?”

“The exact words were I’d go back when hell froze over.”

“Yes. So, everything is not fine.”

“Sure it is. Only I’m not going back.”

“Why? All your evaluations were excellent. You were obviously very good at your job.”

So, Robert was high enough up to see his job evaluations. A connection that high up might have been useful information for Taumaturgio. Now it didn’t matter.

“But it wouldn’t be good for my son, and maybe it wasn’t good for me.”

Robert’s pause gave Daniel time to wonder why the hell he’d added that last part, and to Robert of all people.

“How so?”

“It doesn’t matter. The only thing you and my former supervisors need to know is I’m off the payroll as soon as my leave time runs out. And, even if I hadn’t earned every penny before, I earned it all over again by going through the grilling they gave me these last few days.”

“A thorough exit interview is necessary.”

Daniel snorted. “Hell, they’d already debriefed me from Santa Estella. This was for sport.”

“They conducted the first debriefing with the expectation that they could call you in for further information. With your leaving the organization, we needed to be certain we had any potentially useful information you might possess.”

“We?”

After a slight pause came, “The United States government.”

“Yeah, right. Well, you’ve covered every possible question.”

“Ah, but the realm of possibility is not a fixed sight.” He gave a discreet cough, as if changing subjects. “You know, Daniel, your decision to leave the organization need not be final.”

I don’t want my son to have a father who doesn’t come back–no matter how noble the cause. I know how that feels.

“Yes, it does need to be final. If that’s why you called–”

“I also wondered how the situation with your son stands.”

“I’m working on it.” He rarely had trouble keeping a guard on his words, but more words came out before he’d considered them. “That’s why my decision to leave is final. For Matthew.”

“So you can be there for your son. I see.”

And damned if Daniel didn’t think Robert really did see.

*

Ellyn arrived with Matthew at ten. She looked around as if she half expected to see Daniel. After Matthew burbled on about his stay at the Sinclairs’ he toddled off to inventory his toys.

Ellyn wasted no time: “So, what happened?”

“I gave him dinner.”

“And?”

“No and.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not kidding. What makes you think anything would happen?”

Ellyn rolled her eyes. “History. Chemistry. Having eyes in my head. My God–he looks at you and my temperature goes up.”

“Those are all fine reasons to not let anything happen. Making lo–” She switched to the less emotional term. “–sex just confuses things.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Don’t give me that dense act, Ellyn. Sex makes it difficult to think things through logically and come up with the most reasonable and practical approach.”

Ellyn gave her a disbelieving look. “Kendra, honey, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think the human heart was designed for logic. But if it’s logic you want, let me point out the logic of taking advantage of any opportunities that come your way when you have an energetic two-year-old around. In fact–”

The door opened after a short knock, admitting Marti and Emily.

Saved by the knock. Kendra thought. Nothing else would have stopped Ellyn from completing her lecture on the human heart.

Marti held her questions until the kids had settled in the den with a puzzle, blocks and a fleet of rubber trucks.

“So, what happened?” Marti demanded.

Ellyn started to laugh, and Kendra glared at her.

“As I’ve already told the other Ms. Nosy here, we talked, I fed him dinner and nothing else happened.”

Marti sat down with a sigh, shaking her head. “Most folks around here have a live-and-let-live attitude, but not one hundred percent. I’ve already had phone calls this morning from Helen Solsong and Barb Sandy reporting you drove away from the church with Daniel in your car and his car remained parked at the church all night. It means it’s already being spread around town that you fed him breakfast as well as dinner, and they won’t hesitate to speculate about what came in between.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” muttered Ellyn.

“What? Did they have Daniel’s car staked out?”

“I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” Marti said. “They went on about how scandal has sullied the Susland name before and they were calling out of friendship so I would