unclenched his teeth. “Exactly what does that mean?”
She slid a meaningful glance sideways at the six-year-old.
Matt leaned back in the booth. After a minute, he asked, “Did you do anything fun?”
Hanna shook her head hard and kept twirling the straw.
“She did help me walk the Millers’ two Irish setters this morning,” Linnea said lightly. “We’ll go back tonight. I do petsitting,” she added. “These two dogs love kids and are really excited when Hanna comes.”
“Do you like dogs?” he asked her.
She nodded vigorously, still not looking up. Matt knew that she’d wanted a pet, but Tess and Finn hadn’t let her have one because they were away from home so much.
“Does your aunt Linnea have a dog?” he asked.
She shook her head, her blond hair—damn near the color of Linnea’s, he noticed for the first time—flying back and forth.
“I have a cat,” Finn’s sister told him. “A fat, elderly, black cat named Spooky who particularly hates dogs. And cats. Um … and children.”
A tiny giggle escaped Hanna.
“Except Hanna. Spooky makes an exception for Hanna.”
“Because I’m quiet!” his niece burst out.
The cat, Linnea said, had just appeared on her doorstep some years back and bellowed to be let in. Her face relaxed as she talked, and he realized how much prettier she was when she felt confident or was happy. She had a quiet glow when she smiled at Hanna, who was listening even though she must have heard about Spooky’s late-night arrival on Aunt Linnie’s doorstep before.
“At my veterinarian’s best guess,” she said, “Spooky is fifteen or sixteen now and therefore entitled to be set in her ways.”
“Is that your mother’s excuse, too?” he murmured, then was sorry when her expression closed and that glow vanished. “Sorry,” he tried to say, but she ignored him. Their number had been called, and she took Hanna with her to get the pizza and plates for all of them.
Eventually, after stealing a glance at Hanna, who had retreated behind her hair, Linnea did ask politely where he was staying, and whether his flight had gone smoothly, but all signs of any real personality were gone, thanks to his stupid dig. It wasn’t that he regretted hurting her; she’d deliberately kept Hanna away from him today. But, like it or not, he needed her cooperation right now. Hoping to regain lost ground, he told her a little about the project he’d been working on in Kuwait City and a few impressions of the country. He’d e-mailed photos to Hanna, who had e-mailed back with a six-year-old’s phonetic spelling to say that Mommy said the Kuwait Towers looked like spaceships. Not rocket ships, she’d added. They looked like the spaceship in the movie E.T.
But the conversation was between the two adults. Hanna sometimes whispered a one-or two-word answer when he asked her a question. She stole looks at him, and otherwise hid behind her hair. She ate one piece of pizza, then shook her head when Linnea asked if she’d like more. He had no idea if that was a normal amount for a kid her age to eat.
By the time they left the pizza parlor, Matt was feeling edgy and unhappy to have to concede that maybe it was just as well that Hanna was able to stay with her aunt Linnea for a few days or a week. Despite their e-mails, she’d have been scared to death if she’d had to go with him right now. And, while he was being honest with himself, he also had to admit that he would have a hell of a lot to learn about parenting.
He offered to drive them to their dog-walking gig. Linnea politely declined. Apparently the dogs had to be taken out closer to bedtime. Nor did she invite him in when they got home.
He insisted on escorting them to the door. Hanna did say, “Goodbye, Uncle Matt,” to his good-night, then turned a trusting face to her aunt. “Aunt Linnie, can I watch TV?”
Linnea looked briefly troubled but nodded. “Sure, honey. Let me talk to your uncle Matt for a minute and then I’ll be in.”
Both remained silent until they heard the TV come on. Linnea stayed on the doorstep facing him. He was aware of how slender she was, how he dwarfed her. He wondered if she felt as fragile to the touch as she looked, then cursed himself for even thinking about something like that.
When she spoke, it wasn’t to share her worries about Hanna but instead to say, “You can’t go to my parents’ house.”
The anger burned in his chest like an ulcer. “Why?”
“Mom’s upset. You can understand that, can’t you?”
“She’s upset?” he said incredulously. “My sister is the one who is dead.”
“She doesn’t believe the charges. She thinks …” Her teeth worried her lip. “I don’t know. That Tess fell, and this is all trumped up to get Finn in trouble. She thinks it must be political, either somebody in his firm who doesn’t want him making partner, or because he was being talked about as a candidate for the house. She just.” Linnea struggled for words, then gave up. “I think it would be better if you’d stay away from her for now.”
He swore, then reluctantly nodded. “All right. But I want to spend time with Hanna.”
“I’ve promised her to Mom tomorrow, but if you want, the next day we can try to plan something.”
“Try?” he echoed.
“You can take her for the day, if you want. I’ll be home, so you can make the visit as short as you want or have her all day.”
After a minute, he nodded. “All right. If you don’t have to leave for work, shall we say.nine?”
They left it at that. He walked to his car feeling irritated and dissatisfied, but not sure if he was justified or was being churlish. He’d wanted Hanna to fly into his arms in delight, to chatter to him, to remember their good times together. He’d wanted to talk to her about her mother.
Instead, he’d been painfully aware that Hanna saw him as a stranger. So he’d spent his evening engaging in stilted conversation with Finn’s sister, whom Hanna clearly did trust.
And, yeah, he was petty enough to resent that. He also had a suspicious enough nature to wonder if Linnea would use the advantage she’d gained by proximity to keep Hanna from turning to him.
It was a minute before he started his car. One step at a time, Matt told himself. Find a house. Spend time with Hanna. Be patient.
His jaw flexed and he put his car in gear.
Do not, for a minute, think about Finn Sorensen’s sister as an ally. She’s not one.
CHAPTER THREE
TODAY WAS HANNA’S FIRST solo outing with her uncle Matt, and it hadn’t started auspiciously. She’d ducked her head when he said hello, and turned huge, pleading eyes on Linnea as he led her out the front door with his big hand on her shoulder.
Practically
