talk about you not wearing a bra.” Truck lowered his voice an octave, adding a teasing tone.
“And that’s my cue to hang up.” Blackie laughed. “Later, Peepers.”
“Later, my friend.” There was a click and a hum; then the call returned to normal. “So, what do you want to know about my current braless state?”
Chapter Four
Myrtle
Tires crunching on gravel caught Myrt’s attention, and she stood from the side of the bed to angle towards the window, looking down at the driveway in front of the house. Fear trilled through her for an instant at the sight of the unfamiliar vehicle.The side door opened before the van had even come to a complete stop, and three children poured from the inside, followed immediately by three dogs of varying sizes. The fear was swallowed by amazement as Vanna appeared, kneeling in the front yard as she swept all three kids into her embrace.
A tiny woman who had to be Sharon exited the van’s passenger door, more slowly than the kids had, but still with some speed as she trotted to the heap of kids now piled on a reclining Vanna, the tangle of arms and legs spread out on the grass. Laughter seeped in around the closed window, and Myrt grinned as Sharon scolded the kids before realizing Vanna had instigated the dogpile. Then the actual dogs angled in from the side, adding to the confusion as they barked excitedly and pressed close.
More movement at the van caught Myrt’s attention, and she froze in place as a man climbed out of the driver seat, closing the door with a firm press of his hand. He didn’t look anything like she’d expected. She’d known it wouldn’t be Gunny, the man in so many photos Vanna had on her walls, pictures of this family she claimed as her own. Having heard a multitude of tales about the love story that was Sharon and Gunny, Myrt couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to be a stranger traveling so far with Sharon and her kids.
She stepped closer to the window, and his head jerked up, aimed right at her. Steely blue eyes pinned her in place, and she stared into the most handsome face she’d ever seen on a man. Grizzled scruff softened the edges of his jaw, and his inky hair was scarcely long enough to curl behind his ears, the symmetry of his features adding to his perfection.
A voice called, and he looked away. Myrt felt a profound relief, breaths whooshing in and out of her lungs as if she’d been held underwater for long minutes, only allowed to surface just before she drowned.
Edging to the side, she used one finger to pull the curtain out an inch, giving her a narrow view of the front yard. The man, who looked younger than Sharon as he stood next to her, stretched out a hand to Vanna and helped her recover her feet with three kids still holding tightly to her. He looked pointedly up at the window Myrt had vacated and said something that had Sharon and Vanna looking up, too. Myrt felt like the worst of frauds as she kept hiding, but nothing she could say to herself was enough encouragement to reveal herself again. Something about the man had her panicked, and she hated the way her heart trip-trapped in her chest, tattooing out a beat of retreat.
Vanna spoke to them, the kids’ arms wrapped around her legs and waist, their affection clear. Then the women, kids, and dogs all turned as a unit and headed for the front door. The man looked back up at the window, gave a slow nod as if he knew Myrt still watched, and returned to the van. He opened up the back at the same time a cacophony of sounds made their way up the stairs, indicating Vanna and the Robinson crew had entered the house.
“So stupid.” Myrt rested her forehead against the back of her hand, keeping one eye locked on the man as he retrieved suitcases and backpacks from the cargo area of the van. “Vanna said Sharon would understand.”
“I do.” Myrt’s argument with herself was interrupted by the unfamiliar voice at her door, and she swung around to stare slack-jawed at Sharon. Shoulder to the doorframe, the slight woman looked harmless enough. “You don’t have anything to fear from me, Myrtle.” Myrt glanced away, back towards the window, then pointedly returned her gaze to Sharon’s face. “You don’t have anything to