Page 43 of Her Summer Hope

His parents had always shunned her though it was worse now that he was gone. Aside from the occasional polite calls when they wanted to talk to the kids, they spoke down to her and demanded to see their grandchildren at least once a month. Rob’s mother was the mouthpiece, but his father was just as conniving.

She couldn’t bear to let them keep the children without her there. It made her uneasy.

They made her uneasy.

Once, when she was pregnant and miserable, they offered her money in exchange for allowing the kids to come for a weekend. They even dared to suggest that she wean Emmie so that they could keep her overnight as if she’d ever allow her baby out of her sight that long, and in their care.

She tried to ignore their calls once after Em was born, but they ended up calling the police, who were forced to do a wellness check.

She was fragile in those early days, and the incident both scared her and made her angry.

Now, she grudgingly answered their calls but blocked their efforts at visiting whenever she could. She was worried they wouldn’t be content with the situation much longer, though she had high hopes that they’d just give up.

She timed the food as she worked to mix up frosting for the large sheet cake that was cooling on the counter. She was using a cookbook she’d brought from home. Helen had a neverending supply of the things and she was sorry that she’d teased her about it now. She was probably going to be borrowing them a lot.

She took out the beverages and the glasses, then rang the chimes and put a stack of plates on the serving cart, along with silverware and napkins.

She heard the low tones of the men talking in the other room and realized that she enjoyed it. It made her feel less alone even if she wasn’t a part of it directly. She’d felt so isolated since Rob died and she was left alone with the kids.

The conversation became louder for a moment as the door opened and then closed.

As she was slicing the corned beef, a man that she’d only seen once before came in. He was missing a hand and his eyes were darkly shadowed. He didn’t smile and his face was set into stony lines. He stopped short when he saw her there before turning away quickly and reaching for the refrigerator door.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked.

He came back with a glare and a bottle of water. “I’m not hungry.”

She scanned his body under the jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt he wore. It was too hot for long sleeves but he seemed desperate to cover up his missing hand. His frame was thin and he had the hollow-eyed look of a starving man.

He needed to eat.

The buzzer went off, piercing the silence of the kitchen. The man ducked down, back against the wall, startled, and then stared at her with sweat beading his forehead. His eyes were wide and distressed.

She looked away and pretended nothing happened though inside her heart hurt for the man.

He let out a shaky breath and stomped out. She decided to make him a tray and take it up to his room. At least he could eat in peace up there if he wanted to.

She finished the meal for the others who were waiting in the dining room already—impatiently judging from the noise level. She placed the huge platter of meat and vegetables on the rolling cart, along with the wedges of cornbread and a dish of butter. She added a bowl of mustard, another with extra horseradish sauce, and some pickles before taking a calming breath and pushing through to the dining room.

It was disconcerting to have them all stop talking and stare at her, all except Kyle. He was studiously looking at a notepad in his hand.

“Talking about me, huh?” she joked, a little uneasily.

Murdock tilted his head and fixed her with a piercing stare. She felt as if he could read every thought in her head and she turned her eyes away, feeling the flush in her cheeks.

“Nah, we were just discussing things not suitable for a lady’s ears,” John said congenially.

“If you want, I could whisper them to you later,” Evans offered, breaking the tension.

She was starting to see beyond his man-whore persona and what she saw was a damaged man, perhaps in a different way than the men who came here for recuperation…but still damaged just the same.

It made her feel more protective of him than she expected. She still wasn’t going to let him get away with the flirting though.

“Nah, I’m good,” she said gently. “But you can wash dishes later if you want.”

“I think I have stuff to do later. Things. It might take me a while. Days,” he fabricated, much to the amusement of the others.

Kyle shook his head but still didn’t look at her as she placed the food on the buffet.

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