she’s completely stupid, that wouldn’t make any sense.”
“Hmm.”
“Have you considered that she could be good for Danny?”
“In what possible way?”
“Every kid wants a mother, Matt. She may not be perfect, but she is his mother.”
“Not perfect? What if she gets to know him, gets bored and walks away again? No. I’m not going to let Danny get hurt like that. He deserves the best, and up till now that’s what I’ve tried to give him. She could tear all that down, make him doubt the foundation he’s always trusted.”
“Are you sure she’s really as bad as all that? I mean, you said she just got into town. How do you know what kind of person she is? It’s been eight years. She could have changed. Sounds like she was just a kid herself when she had him.”
“She’s going to say all the right things,” Matt protested.
“Have you got a choice? At least here, it’s on your turf. If you get into lawyers, she could win. Mothers always have the edge in custody cases, even when they shouldn’t. Think about it. What better place is there to learn who the real Leah is?”
Matt didn’t want to learn who the real Leah was. He kept picturing his brother when he’d returned home, shaky, almost frightened.
But Roger was right. He had a better chance of uncovering the real Leah here in Rosewood than anywhere else.
Within a few days, Leah had discovered which classroom Danny was in and had met his teacher. One of the younger teachers, Miss Randolph was open and friendly. But then Leah had found that the entire staff was pretty much that way. As part of the Community Church, the school reflected the church’s attitude, Annie had explained.
When Leah volunteered to help out in the class, Miss Randolph was happy to have her. Nervous about her first day, Leah brought cupcakes to smooth the way. Annie, now her staunch supporter, had offered both the use of her kitchen and her grandmother’s cake recipe. But Leah had painted the faces on the cupcakes herself with layers of multicolored icing. Tigers, lions, giraffes, bears.
Now that the time had come to offer them to the children, Miss Randolph clapped her hands together. “Okay, let’s line up for treats.”
Accustomed to the routine, the kids got into an orderly line. As prearranged, Leah held the large platter of cupcakes. The kids were used to treats, but eyes widened when they saw the elaborate animal faces with realistic whiskers and expressions.
Pleased, Leah relaxed somewhat. But it was difficult to pull her focus from Danny. She wanted to watch his every move. Knowing she couldn’t single out one child for her attention, she tried to be casual, tried not to stare.
But he was so lively. And interested in everything.
All of the children were intrigued by the unusual treats and took care choosing just which animal they wanted. When it was Danny’s turn, he scrunched his face into concentrated lines, then picked the lion.
“Thanks,” he said politely with an upturned grin. “These are cool.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Did you make ’em?”
“Yes,” she replied, wanting to say more, but knowing she couldn’t. Especially since she felt the sting of tears. The cupcake was the first thing she’d given him…the first thing he’d been able to thank her for. Such a simple, ordinary occurrence.
And it meant the world.
She kept it together as she handed out the rest of the treats and then did cleanup duty. But her gaze continued to stray until the teacher divided the children into reading groups. Leah was supposed to help anyone who needed it.
Since the class, like all the others in the school, was small, so were the individual groups. Leah rotated between them as Miss Randolph had instructed, but she was drawn to Danny’s.
Danny read his section aloud without error.
It was a little girl named Lily’s turn. She was obviously much shyer. “The water hit the wall with a big…” She paused, trying to decipher the word.
“Splash,” Danny whispered.
Lily smiled. “Splash,” she said aloud, then continued reading.
Leah was pleased to see that he was kind to the children who didn’t work at his level. That behavior could come naturally.
Or from what he’d been taught.
She had to acknowledge the truth. Danny’s upbringing had been a good one. And that was because of Matt.
Beneath the man’s glower and glare, there must be something else. Something that had shaped Danny.
By late evening most of the guests at the bed-and-breakfast were either upstairs in their rooms or relaxing in the main parlor. The spacious old house had a small rear parlor off the kitchen that was Annie’s private space, one that she invited Leah to share.
“These old Victorian houses are great,” Leah said, relaxing in a bentwood rocking chair.
“Some people are put off because they’re too big. I think they’re cozy. Especially here by the kitchen.”
Leah smiled. “I always thought it would be nice to have a sturdy table right in the middle of the kitchen, the family gathering around for meals.”
“That not what you’re used to?”
“Oh, my mother likes things more formal, dinner in the dining room, using the china and crystal.” Leah shrugged, her eyes softening. “This just seems warmer, homier.”
“Do you have a very big family?”
“No. I’m an only child. My parents had me kind of late, when they were in their forties. And when I didn’t come along in the expected time line, I think they gave up. So I was a surprise. And by then they were used to giving dinner parties, entertaining clientele.”
“Sounds lonely.”
“I didn’t mean it to. They doted on me. Because they were older, their friends were, too, so I had lots of attention. We traveled, which was great. It’s just that, sometimes, I wondered about places, well, like Rosewood. Elegant is beautiful, but I wondered about simpler places where rustic is okay, too.” Embarrassed, Leah laughed. “Listen to me.”
“I’m enjoying it. I don’t have many friends from outside of Rosewood and I know practically nothing about city living.”
“How about you? How did you come to be the one who inherited your grandparents’ house? No siblings to share it with?”
Annie’s dark eyes saddened. “When I was a baby, my parents and older brother and sister were killed in a car accident. I was here with my grandparents.”
Horrified, Leah stopped rocking and laid one hand over Annie’s. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”
