When Hearts Collide - By James, Kendra Page 0,16

an aunt or a grandma?”

Gracie’s blond curls bounced. “Grandma Katherine.”

Molly let out an audible sigh. Finally a next of kin who could look after the child and let her get on her way.

“But she doesn’t like to be called ‘Grandma.’”

“No?” Molly tipped her head.

“Nope. Makes her feel old.”

Molly crossed her fingers. “Do you have a phone number for your Grandma?”

Gracie raced out of the room and down the hall. Molly followed, her sandals clicking on the ceramic floor as she hurried to find out where the child had gone. She found her in a room to the left of the kitchen. It was a large den and smelled of pine and old leather. Molly took in the rich opulence of the room with the wall-to-wall bookshelves, the large cherry desk, and the chestnut brown leather couch. Gracie pulled open the top drawer of the desk, shuffled through some papers, then held up a leather-bound address book.

“Daddy keeps his numbers here.”

As Molly accepted the book, she glanced at the photos on the desk–Gracie and Pearce at the beach, on the front lawn, at an amusement park. She could see the love for his child reflected in the tender expressions captured by the camera’s lens–pride, joy, devotion. It was obvious this child was his life.

Then another picture caught her attention. Behind the others, tilted away from direct view, Molly had to pick it up to see it properly. It was of Pearce, Gracie, and a woman in her mid to late fifties.

“Who’s this?” Molly pointed to the woman.

“Grandma Katherine.”

The woman sat primly on the edge of a red velvet Victorian chair. Pearce stood behind the woman, Gracie sat at her feet. An elongated pinched nose separated the woman’s high cheekbones, but it was the arched eyebrows and flat line of her smile that gave her an authoritarian air. Pearce’s mother? He did have an aristocratic profile, but there the resemblance seemed to end.

Involuntarily, a shiver sluiced down her spine. She thought of her own grandmother, whose chubby face was furrowed with years of laugher and a life well spent. She felt a wave of pity for the child. She needed to call ‘Grandma Katherine,’ but she wanted privacy for that.

“Is this your daddy’s mother or your mother’s mommy?”

“Mommy’s mother. I’m hungry. I want to eat. Now,” Gracie demanded.

“Let’s get you something then.”

Molly denied the urge to pick up the phone, call the grandmother, and get her here to take over childcare. She wanted her commitment to Pearce to be wrapped up as soon as possible, yet she didn’t want to risk a toddler temper tantrum.

It was okay as a hospital nurse dealing with a few tears. You knew it was temporary and a parent would take the child home and deal with the behavior problems. This was different. This child was home, and Molly on her own. She had no idea how Gracie would react. In fact, she knew nothing about the child, except that she had a gorgeous, caring, but critically injured father. And once she handed the child over to Grandma, she would never see either one of them again.

The stomping of a tiny foot brought her back to reality. Molly almost laughed when she looked down and saw Gracie glaring at her. She must be starving. Other than the Popsicle at the hospital, she’d had nothing else to eat. She had been sleeping so soundly last night, Molly just put her into bed, clothes and all. When was the last time she’d had eaten?

I know where the kitchen is, but what am I going to feed her?

“Come on.” Gracie pulled her toward the kitchen. The hand felt so small and delicate.

“What do you want to eat?”

“Peanut butter on toast.”

“I think I can manage that.”

She’d found the kitchen last night, but her own hunger had been no match for her exhaustion. Sleep had won over her growling stomach. With Gracie beside her, she started opening doors.

She found a pantry brimming with groceries. There’s enough food to feed an army. Molly settled the child at the table with two pieces of toast slathered with peanut butter and a dollop of honey. She grabbed an apple, cut it up, and placed it beside the toast along with a glass of milk.

“Gracie, I need to make a phone call. Are you all right for a few minutes?”

Gracie nodded, a thin layer of peanut butter coating her face.

Crossing to the den, Molly flipped through the address book. There were two people named