Page 3 of Trouble Comes in Threes

My heart stuttered. Ashley knew her father was in prison and had seen him only a handful of times because of Mike’s insistence that the children stay away. He would be there until after she graduated from high school, and he hadn’t wanted his kids to be burdened with his shame. Still, neither Joe nor I had emphasized that he was a criminal. “Ash, honey, people make mistakes. Your daddy made some big mistakes, just like I told you and Mikey.”

Her chin quivered. “So he is a dirty criminal? Because Oliver said only dirty criminals go to jail.”

My heart ached for her as I cupped her chin and stroked her cheek with my thumb, trying to soothe her. “No, sweetie, he’s not a dirty criminal, but he is considered a criminal. It was very unkind of Oliver to say that to you.” My anger blossomed, but I tried to keep it in check. Oliver was in Ashley’s fourth-grade class. He’d picked on her from time to time since they’d started kindergarten, and while it was probably equally unkind for me to call a ten-year-old a shithead, if the shoe fit…

“Did he work for a bad, bad man?” she asked, eyes wide.

Her question made me pause. A lot of the information about what Mike had done wasn’t necessarily made public, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t plenty of speculation. Most people speculated that Mike had been working for a local drug czar, Denny Carmichael, who was also incarcerated. But in truth, he’d been working for Hope’s biological father, who was currently running a tavern in Lone County, Arkansas, about two hours away.

The ache inside my chest deepened.

I hadn’t thought about James Malcolm in a good bit, but I saw him in Hope’s eyes and her chin. The way she studied things that puzzled her and the way she didn’t back down from a fight—although Joe attributed that to me.

Only a handful of people knew that James was Hope’s biological father, and I intended to keep it that way. Joe might not share her DNA, but he’d been there since I’d found out I was pregnant. He’d held my hand, offering support during my pregnancy, and then carried at least half the load of caring for a newborn before we’d made our relationship official with a marriage license.

Joe Simmons was Hope’s father in every way it counted, and I did count my blessings every day. But I hadn’t forgotten that James had willingly sacrificed a relationship with his daughter to keep her safe. I was grateful for that too.

Ashley was waiting for an answer about whether her father had worked for a bad man, but I had no intention of touching that subject with a ten-foot pole. At least not on a Tuesday morning when we were already running late for school.

“Your daddy worked for a group of bad men,” I said carefully, “but you don’t need to worry about what he did right now. When you’re older, we can talk about it…if you want.”

She stared at me for a few seconds, then nodded. “Okay.”

I forced a grim look. “So now that I know what Oliver said, tell me what happened after he said it.”

“He said it in front of the entire class, and everyone started saying my daddy was a dirty criminal. Then he made fun of me when I started to cry, so I kicked him in the shin.” Shame washed over her face.

She was worried Joe would be upset with her, but I suspected he was going to be secretly proud. In fact, he was likelier to be disappointed she hadn’t kicked both shins.

I took her hand and cradled it in mine. “Two wrongs don’t make a right, but I understand why you did what you did.”

“Mrs. Pritchard wants to talk to you and Uncle Joe this morning before school.”

I tried to keep from making a face. I had a busy morning, and I knew Joe had back-to-back meetings. “Did she send a note home?”

She nodded again. “It’s in my backpack.” Fresh tears slid down her cheeks. “I’m really sorry, Aunt Rose.”

I pulled her into a hug, tucking her head under my chin. “Never be afraid to tell me when you’re in trouble, Ash. You can tell Uncle Joe too. We’ll always have your back.”

“Thank you, Aunt Rose.”

“Don’t worry. I will be talking to Mrs. Pritchard about Oliver’s behavior.” I heard fussing across the hall, so I kissed the top of her head and dropped my hold. “We’ll drop Hope and the baby off at preschool before I take you to school, okay?”

“But she wants to see Uncle Joe too.”

“You let me worry about that. Uncle Joe has an important meeting he can’t miss.”

“I love you, Aunt Rose.”

The fussing across the hall grew louder, followed by a sound that made me smile. “Momma!”

“I love you too, Ash.” I kissed the top of her head again. “Now I need to go check on your cousin.”

I slid out of bed and padded across the hall into the nursery to find my dark-haired, fifteen-month-old son standing in his crib. He smiled from ear to ear when he saw me. “Momma! Momma!”

“Did you have a good sleep, sweet Liam?” I asked as I lifted him out of bed and settled him on my hip. “How are your teethies doing?”

He opened his mouth and pointed to his teeth.

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