Hawk's Way: Rebels: The Temporary Groom. Joan Johnston

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the house and have someone come and pick her up.

      “I was concerned when I couldn’t reach anyone at the ranch,” the principal said, “so I called Mrs. Trask.”

      “Oh, no,” Cherry groaned. “Call her back, please, and tell her it isn’t necessary to come. I’ll take Annie home.”

      “I’ll try,” the principal said. “But she’s probably already on her way.”

      Cherry’s only thought was to get Annie and leave as quickly as possible.

      “I’m Cherry Whitelaw, Mrs. Winslow,” she said when she arrived at Annie’s classroom. Cherry flushed. “Except it’s Stonecreek now. My name, I mean. I’m here for Annie.”

      “She’s lying on a cot at the back of the room, Mrs. Stonecreek. Raejean insisted on sitting with her.”

      It felt strange to be called by her married name. Only she really was Mrs. Stonecreek, and responsible for the twins’ welfare. She sat on a chair beside the cot and brushed the bangs away from Annie’s forehead. “How are you, sweetheart?”

      Annie moaned. “My stomach hurts.”

      “She ate too many marshmallows,” Raejean said from her perch beside her sister.

      “Marshmallows?” Mrs. Winslow asked.

      “Annie had a few marshmallows with her hot chocolate this morning,” Cherry said.

      “How many is a few?” Mrs. Winslow asked.

      Cherry hadn’t counted. “Too many, I guess. Can you walk, Annie? Or do I need to carry you?”

      Annie sat up, holding her stomach. “I don’t feel so good.”

      Cherry picked her up in her arms.

      “Where are you taking her?” Raejean demanded.

      “Home,” Cherry said.

      “I’m going, too,” Raejean said.

      “There’s no reason for you to miss a day of school,” Cherry said reasonably. “I’ll take good care of Annie.”

      “How do I know that?” Raejean demanded. “You’re practically a stranger!”

      “Raejean,” Mrs. Winslow said. “Mrs. Stonecreek is right. There’s no reason for you to leave.”

      “I’m going with Annie,” Raejean said to Mrs. Winslow, her face flushed. “I’m not staying here alone.”

      “You won’t be alone,” Mrs. Winslow soothed. “You’ll—”

      “I’m going with Annie!” Raejean cried.

      “Raejean—” Cherry began.

      “I’m going with Annie!” she screeched hysterically.

      Cherry knew the dangers of giving in to a tantrum. But in her mind’s eye she saw Mrs. Trask arriving to find a scene like this and knew she was over a barrel. “All right, Raejean, you can come. I’m sorry for the trouble, Mrs. Winslow.”

      She turned and headed for the door with Annie in her arms and Raejean a half step behind her. She was almost out the door when Mrs. Trask showed up.

      “What’s the matter with my granddaughter? What have you done to her?” she demanded.

      “Annie is fine, Mrs. Trask.” Cherry kept moving down the hall toward the front door of the school, still hoping to escape without a major confrontation.

      “Annie’s sick because she ate too many marshmallows,” Raejean volunteered.

      “Marshmallows?” Mrs. Trask said as though what she was really saying was “Poison?”

      “Annie will be fine, Mrs. Trask.”

      “I was afraid of something like this. You’re not responsible enough to be left in charge of two little girls.”

      Cherry didn’t want to admit Mrs. Trask might be right. She had misjudged the situation this morning, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do better. She would learn. After all, nobody had practice being a parent before they actually became one.

      “Thank you for coming, Mrs. Trask, but as you can see, I have the situation well in hand.”

      “I’m coming home with you,” Mrs. Trask said.

      “I don’t believe that’s necessary,” Cherry countered.

      “I—”

      “What’s going on here?”

      Cherry stopped in her tracks.

      It was Billy. He didn’t look really mad, as Raejean had promised. He looked frantic, his brow furrowed, his sweat-stained work shirt pulled out of his jeans and hanging open, revealing a hairy chest covered with a damp sheen of sweat. He was still wearing his buckskin work gloves, but he was missing his hat. He had obviously shoved an agitated hand through his dark hair more than once, leaving it awry. He looked virile and strong…and very worried.

      “I stopped by the house for some tools and found you gone and a message on the answering machine that Annie wasn’t feeling well. Is she all right?”

      “I’m sick, Daddy,” Annie cried.

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