Chapter Two
“I’m so glad you told me about that tiny scar on your chin, Jeremiah,” Amy said as she combed the child’s hair neatly into place.
“It’s the only way to tell me and Benjamin apart. I guess it’s kinda lucky that I was jumpin’ on the bed and fell on the bedpost.”
Amy’s nose scrunched. “I don’t know that I’d call it lucky.”
Benjamin looked up from where he was fussing with a stubborn button. “He had to get three stitches. With a needle and everything.”
“I’ll bet that hurt,” Amy said.
“Nah. Not even a little bit.” But Jeremiah’s chest puffed as he scoffed at the experience. Then he added, “The doctor numbed my chin.”
His brother’s eyes widened. “With a needle.”
“Mom still teases me about it,” Jeremiah added, “because I started snorin’ while the doctor was puttin’ in the stitches.”
“When did all this happen?” Amy asked.
“A couple of years ago,” he told her. “When I was really little.”
She wrestled with the grin that tugged at one corner of her mouth. One thing she’d learned in the past five days of caring for the boys was that there was nothing quite like experiencing life through the eyes of a child.
“Ah, so it happened when you were a petit garçon.” She did her best to implement a perfect accent when she spoke the last two words.
“What’s that?” Jeremiah asked.
Amy chuckled. “That means ‘little boy’ in French.”
“You can talk in French?” Benjamin looked to be in awe.
“Don’t be too impressed.” She grinned. “I’m not very good. When I was a little girl I had teachers who were trained in France.” She didn’t think the boys would understand about the Oblate Sisters and the life of spiritual devotion they chose, so she just stuck to a simple explanation. “They introduced me to the language. All the students had to take French lessons, from the youngest to the oldest. I’ve tried to keep up with it by listening to audio tapes.”
“Cool,” Jeremiah said.
“Can you teach us some?” Benjamin’s gaze lit with curiosity.
“Sure I can,” she told them. “If you really want to learn.” She ruffled Jeremiah’s head of dark hair. “I think the luckiest thing about your ordeal with the bedpost is that your scar is so small. I have to squint to see it. But it is good to know I have a way of knowing which one of you I’m talking to.” She smiled as she tapped the boy on the tip of his chin with the pad of her index finger, and then she reached to help Benjamin fasten his button.
Life had fallen into a comfortable routine very quickly, and that had surprised Amy. She’d wake early and get herself ready for the day. She’d help the boys dress, feed them breakfast and then they would plan the day’s activities.
One day she’d taken them to Glory’s public library, where they had found a huge globe on which Amy had pointed out Africa and the wide expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. Then they had read some children’s books about the area where the boys’ parents were serving as missionaries. They had spent another day exploring the small town of Glory together, and Benjamin and Jeremiah had been more than happy to point out the pizza place, the ice cream shop and the arcade. And yesterday she’d helped the boys pull out the fishing gear. Unable to deal with the idea of worms, she’d baited the hooks with bits of ham she’d found in the fridge. But they hadn’t gotten a single nibble, so the three of them had climbed on boulders at one end of the cove and watched the blue crabs shimmy sideways under the water.
Pierce had been right when he’d told her she needed to rethink her attire. The tailored skirts and dresses that had helped to bolster her confidence since her flight training simply weren’t appropriate for traipsing around after the twins. To be honest, even the slacks and leather flats she’d reverted to wearing were still not fitting for this job. What she needed was sturdier, more casual clothing. Jeans and shorts, sneakers and sandals. The stuff she used to knock around in back in Kansas. However, she’d purposely yet unfortunately left those items in her dresser back home.
During her flight attendant training, it had been stressed to her over and over again that if she wanted to garner the respect due a professional, then she must be perceived as a professional. She had to dress and act the part.
One day during her training something had clicked. She’d realized that if she looked and acted assured and capable, that’s what people would believe her to be—no matter what she felt inside, no matter how lacking her background. That had been the day she’d resolved to put on the armor that would protect her from her past: carefully applied makeup, hair that was styled, coordinated apparel and a cool, confident air.
She would make herself into what she was not. And no one would be the wiser. So far, her plan had worked like a charm.
However, climbing around on wet rocks wasn’t easy when you didn’t have a pair of rubber-soled shoes handy. Well, that was something she’d just have to deal with. Keeping her professional facade intact was more important than sore feet.
“What’s for breakfast today?” Benjamin asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.
“What would you like?” She reached out and straightened the collar of his red cotton polo shirt.
“I’d like pancakes!”
“Me, too.”
Amy grinned. “Then pancakes it is.”
The boys cheered and raced from the room.
“Don’t run,” she called after them. But she’d learned that while the boys might want to listen and obey, there was something in their small bodies that urged them to attempt to fly. Everywhere they went.
Hurrying down the steps, she paused in the front hall to answer the ringing phone.
“Dad!” Her heart warmed when she heard her father’s voice. “I’m just fine. Everything is going great. I’m so glad you called.”
They talked for only a couple of minutes before she told him she had to get the boys fed, but she promised to call him for a nice long chat on her day off. She set the telephone receiver into its cradle and headed down the hallway.
The kitchen was empty. In fact, the whole house felt still.
Amy stood in the quiet for the length of several heartbeats. Then anxiety washed over her as her pulse thundered and the fine hair on her arms stood on end.
The bay!
She remembered how panicky she’d been seeing the boys out on the water in the boat the day she’d arrived. She rushed out onto the sunporch, scanning the yard and the shoreline. Seeing the rowboat right where it was supposed to be, she gulped in a relieved breath.
Amy went out into the sunshine and called out the boys’ names. Where could they have gone so quickly?
