When Hearts Collide - By James, Kendra Page 0,30

six and my sister was four when our parents were killed in a car accident.”

“I’m sorry.” He caressed her hand. “Was there no other family to take you?”

She shook her head.

“Were you unhappy?” He watched the expression in her eyes. A gleam converted the sadness.

“Surprising as it may seem, I wasn’t. I mean there were unhappy times, times when we thought we might be adopted and then had our hopes dashed. But the sisters were good to us, and we were together.” She smiled. “The orphanage wasn’t like a Dickens’ novel. We had lots of food. The nuns loved to cook and see us with our bellies full.”

“Was there anyone special?’

The smile widened.

“Yes, Gladys. I still keep in touch with her. She had been an orphan and understood what it was like. She took me and my sister under her wing.”

“What about your sister?”

“Lani is great.” Molly raised her eyebrows and grinned. “There was a time, though. She was pretty rebellious as a teenager.”

“And now?” Pearce asked.

Molly laughed. “Now, Lani has a wonderful life. An adoring husband, a nice house, and she’s having a baby in a couple of months.”

Pearce caressed her hand and asked, “And what does Molly want out of life?

“I guess I’m like most women. I want a man to love me, I want a family, I want a home to call my own.” Molly shrugged and looked out the night-darkened window. “I’m just cynical and don’t think it will be for me.”

“Why not? Your sister found it.”

“She was always lucky.”

Pearce saw the muscles in her cheek tighten and thought he detected a harshness in her tone. His voice softened. “And you aren’t.”

Molly continued to stare out the window. “Not really.”

“Has life been hard for you?”

She laughed, but her tone didn’t convey the lightness he thought she’d intended.

Pearce stretched out his arm and rubbed her shoulder. She pulled away, then used her shirtsleeve to wipe at the tears streaking down her cheek. “I’m so sorry. I don’t usually go on like this. I don’t really feel sorry for myself. I’m just over tired.”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “It’s okay. I’ve thrown you into something, haven’t I?”

Molly wiped away the last of the tears and smiled at Pearce. “Certainly not what I was expecting when I was driving by that night.”

“Tell me about Gladys.”

Pearce heard the tenderness in her voice as she talked about the woman who’d become her mother figure. It seemed that Gladys had provided the stability that had molded Molly into the person she was today. As he listened, he wished he’d had someone in his life like Gladys. He thought of his own parents and their austere and old-fashioned beliefs on childcare. Too often he’d been left to the mercy of uncaring nannies. He was determined that wouldn’t happen to Gracie. He wanted to be there for his daughter. He wanted to make sure she never had to live such a lonely childhood.

Molly glanced at her watch. “Look at the time. It’s been a long day, and you’re due for your antibiotic. I think I better get you settled for the night.” She yawned. “And me, too.”

As Molly got him comfortable in bed and ran his antibiotics, Pearce thought how lucky he was to have her here. Unable to keep his eyes open, his last thoughts were of his red-haired angel.

Chapter 8

“I need to get out of this room.” Pearce slammed his hand on the desk.

“Where do you want to go?” Molly asked.

“Anywhere.” He threw his hands up in the air. “Anywhere beyond these four walls. I feel claustrophobic.”

“What about outside on the patio?”

“That would be better than being cooped up here.”

“Oh, goodie.” Gracie squealed. “Daddy’s going out to play.”

Molly brought the wheelchair to the bed and after helping Pearce into it, sat Gracie on his knee. The child wrapped her chubby arms around his neck. Molly saw the glimmer in Pearce’s eyes as he held his daughter close, and her heart skipped erratically. For the love of a good man. Her thoughts drifted to places they had no right going.

“Let’s go, Molly Mommy.”

“Hold on, Gracie.” Molly set the wheelchair in motion.

Molly wheeled them out to the patio. It was a soothing space filled with hibiscus trees, weigelia bushes, and a trumpet vine that coated the top of the pergola. She sat on a lounger, content to watch father and daughter interact.

Their hair color could not have been more of a contrast—his so dark it gleamed like black pearls and hers