a good principal. Is she nice?”
Michael joined them. “If dragons are nice.”
“She’s not a dragon,” Charlotte admonished, her plump lips straightening in a line, her brow wrinkling into thunderclouds. “You a fart head. Chris said so.”
Michael laughed. “He’d know.”
Charlotte didn’t seem to know what to say. But Lucas did. “Michael, did you finish your schoolwork?”
The boy gave his uncle a withering look.
“Did you?”
The boy still didn’t answer, but instead tugged Charlotte’s hand. “Let’s go home, Lottie.”
“Nooo,” the toddler screeched, pulling away from Michael. “I want cookies.”
“We got cookies.” The boy leaned over and picked his sister up, shooting Lucas a funny look. “If you don’t come with me, I’ll leave you with Uncle Lucas all by yourself.”
The little girl froze and slid her gaze to her towering uncle. “Nooo! He eats little kids’ fingers. Did he eat Mommy?”
Michael’s eyes sparked. “Probably. He hates Mom and Dad.”
Charlotte started crying, but her older brother didn’t seem to care. He charged toward the gap in the camellia bushes, not bothering to listen as his uncle shouted “Stop!”
“That little—” Lucas bit down on the expletive sure to explode from his mouth. He shoved the rolling bin to the side and started toward the gap.
But Addy did something unexpected.
She reached out and laid a hand on his arm.
And Lucas stopped, turned to her and arched a dark eyebrow. “What?”
“Let him go.”
The man shrugged off her touch. “He’s being—”
“Lucas Whatever Your Name Is, I think you need to tell me what’s really going on.”
Chapter Two
LUCAS FINLAY LOOKED at the small woman staring expectantly at him with eyes the color of aged wheat—not quite golden but not wholly brown—and stilled himself.
What was really going on?
How about total incompetency in dealing with kids?
Or helplessness?
Or guilt?
Or all of the above?
All those would likely cover the past forty-eight hours spent in the company of three kids he knew nothing about, a house that creaked and moaned and had weak pipes, and pets that needed constant feeding and walking. He’d encountered more poop in the past two days than in his entire lifetime...and he raised cattle on his ranch.
Not to mention, Michael had been correct.
Not about eating small children. Lucas might be tall, but he’d given up devouring tiny tots long ago...when he’d sold the golden-egg-laying goose. But the boy had been right about him hating his brother and sister-in-law. Unequivocally correct.
“It’s a long story.”
Addy hooked a dramatic eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“I need to go.”
“Where are Ben and Courtney?”
For a moment, he didn’t answer. Was it any of her business? She was a neighbor. Neighbors carried tales and Lucas wasn’t sure what Courtney wanted to reveal about Ben’s injuries...about the fact Lucas’s younger brother lay in a hospital bed miles away, knocking on death’s door. “They’re in Virginia.”
Not a lie. Walter Reed Army Hospital was in Virginia.
“Ben’s deployed to Afghanistan. Was he injured?”
Lucas didn’t move a muscle. “I can’t give out information without their permission.”
“What about your parents? Why aren’t they here instead of you?”
“Mom and Dad are in Europe, trying to get back so they can meet Courtney in Virginia. There was no one else to stay with the kids on such short notice.”
The woman didn’t say anything. Just studied him, which made him uncomfortable. This is what he didn’t like about being back in New Orleans. People lurked around every corner and there were so many things in his way—trees, bushes, grass, lushness. Yes, everything was so damn plush and suffocating.
Not like West Texas where a man could breathe. Where a man could stretch out and see for days what came toward him. There were no corners...and very few people. And those very few people left him the hell alone. Just as he wished.
Here in New Orleans, he drowned in all the stuff surrounding him.
Mostly in dog piss because Kermit the golden retriever had bladder issues. The vet was on the list for tomorrow, but if he had to go to Home Depot...
She cleared her throat.
He glanced at her again. She hadn’t warmed up to him, but most people didn’t. There was something hard in his demeanor, something off-putting that sent people away from him rather than toward him. Probably his size. He stretched six foot four inches and filled up most doorways with his breadth. He wasn’t fat, but neither was he slim. Solid. Thick. And unlikely to smile. Charm was his antonym.
But he liked the look of her. Petite but not mousy. Brown hair that caught in the waning sunlight. Pleasant heart-shaped face. Very natural—no caked-on makeup or weirdly patterned shirts with spiky high heels. Just simplicity. Yeah, this woman looked simple. His fingers itched to photograph her. He’d use the new Nikon and catch the natural light falling soft against her golden skin.
Then he remembered where he was.
“Look, I don’t feel comfortable talking about the situation. Courtney hasn’t told the kids what issues she and Ben are facing.” Damn. Even that was too much to say. He could tell Addy knew the situation wasn’t good, but he couldn’t take back his words. Yet, somehow he knew this woman wouldn’t spread them around.
She nodded, mink hair falling over slim shoulders. He wondered what she’d do if he reached over and felt it between his thumb and finger. Scream?
Then he remembered the pepper spray on her key ring and shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Okay, I’m smart enough to realize it’s something bad otherwise you wouldn’t be here. I’ve never seen you before so that means you’re not close to your brother. The children seem scared of you, likely perpetuated by Michael who is locked in a power struggle with you. So I’d say—”
“You a counselor?”
She smiled and her
