Nathan's Child - By Anne McAllister Page 0,26
“and your backpack and whatever else you brought.”
“I’m leaving my photos,” Lacey said. “Dad says we’ll look at them tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow you’re helping Miss Gibbs move all those books at the library. Remember?” Carin reminded her.
“Oh, Mom! I don’t have to. You know that. It’s voluntary. She’ll understand.”
“No, she won’t. She’s relying on you. The books need to be moved, Lacey. And you said you’d help. They’re refinishing the floor,” she told Nathan, “and they need to move all the books to one side. Then next week, they’ll move them to the other side. The librarian, Miss Gibbs, asked the kids to help. And Lacey—” she turned her gaze on their daughter now “—volunteered.”
“But I—”
“Good for her. I’ll help,” Nathan said.
Lacey laughed delightedly. “Will you? Oh, cool!”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Nathan. You don’t need—” Carin began.
“The books need to be moved.” Nathan quoted her words back to her, arching a brow, daring her to deny what she’d just said.
She clamped her lips together.
Getting no denial, he shrugged. “So I’ll help. Do me good to volunteer, too. Since the island is going to be my home now….” He stared hard at Carin, making his point, then for good measure turned his gaze on Hugh, as well.
He was gratified to see the other man’s obvious surprise.
“Then Lacey can come back here with me after,” Nathan went on smoothly, “and we can go over her photos. We didn’t have time today. Give you a chance to do your painting,” he said to Carin. “And Lacey needs to help me on my book, too.”
Her mouth opened as if she were going to argue. Then she shrugged those nearly bare shoulders. “I’m sure Miss Gibbs will be delighted to have your assistance. And that’s nice that you and Lacey can work on your book. But I won’t be painting. I’ll be working in the shop. I only paint on Wednesdays.” She stepped through the open sliding door into the house, heading straight for the front door, then turning once more to say politely, “Thank you again for the lovely meal. Say thank you, Lacey,” she instructed their daughter.
“Thanks, Dad.” Lacey flashed him a grin that, thank God, didn’t look forced.
He reached out and gave her ponytail a tug. “Anytime, kid.”
Hugh stepped around Nathan and opened the door for Carin, then turned back and offered Nathan a grin and a handshake. “Hope we meet again soon.” Pause. “Carin and I will have to have you for a meal.”
It was a blatantly territorial comment and Nathan knew it. He shook Hugh’s hand, pistols at dawn not being an option. But nothing required that he respond to that ridiculous remark, so he didn’t.
“Night, Dad.” Lacey said brightly, turning to grin up at him. “It was a great day, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, great,” Nathan echoed hollowly. He managed a smile. Just. And one last tug of her ponytail.
For her he was glad that it had been. For him, seeing Carin walk away with Hugh’s hand pressed possessively at her back, the blessings had been decidedly mixed.
CHAPTER FIVE
ELAINE, Lorenzo’s seventeen-year-old sister, hurried into the shop at ten minutes past nine. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m late!”
Carin, who was dusting, blinked. “Late? For what?”
“Nathan said to be here at nine.”
“What? Nathan said what?”
“To be here at nine. That you needed me to work every day.” Elaine looked delighted. “I’m so glad. I was so sick of waitressin’. My feet hurt sooooo bad.”
Carin stared at her. “When did you see Nathan?”
“Saw him yesterday afternoon. Him an’ Lacey came by to talk to my dad after they went fishing. Oh, you mean about workin’? Didn’t see him. He called last night. Said you had a big show in New York an’ you needed more time to paint. I was that happy, I can tell you!”
“Ah.” Carin hesitated. “Um.”
“What you want me to do? Want me to dust? If your cash register is like The Grouper’s I won’t have any problems with that.” Elaine was so eager that Carin couldn’t simply say, There’s been a mistake. Go home.
But there had definitely been a mistake! And Nathan Wolfe had made it! How dared he?
“Just…yes, here.” Carin thrust the duster in Elaine’s hand. “I need to make a phone call. I’ll be right back.”
There was a phone by the register, but Carin went to the one in the back room. She punched out the number of Nathan’s cell phone, which he’d given her yesterday. She’d been sure she would never need it. She was wrong.
“What do