Kids on the Doorstep / Cop on Loan. Kimberly Van Meter
someone to help with the girls and by the looks of your house, someone to help out with general upkeep. I figure the best way to stay close to my girls and get to know them again is to be around them as much as possible and I can’t do that if I live and work twenty miles away. Plus, there’s really not much to choose from as far as jobs go. You live in the sticks of the sticks.” Renee paused to take a breath and he realized more was coming. “And, I was thinking that perhaps you could let me stay here in that guesthouse you have behind the main house. I’d be out of your way and it would take care of two of the requirements the judge set forth in the judgment.”
“Why would I want you moving into my house? Have you forgotten I don’t much like you? And just what the hell are you insinuating about my house?” Was she saying he was a slob? He shot her a dirty look. “You sure have a funny way of asking for a favor, you know that?”
She returned his glare but the way she chewed her bottom lip told him she realized she might’ve been a little harsh. “I didn’t mean to insult you. All I’m saying is your house is clean enough for a bachelor but a woman’s touch is needed around here.” She gestured to the drapes at the front window. “When was the last time those things were aired out? Or how about the floor? This old hardwood needs to be waxed every now and again. I figure you don’t have the time to be doing stuff like that.”
He glanced at the floor. Looked fine to him. So it didn’t shine like it used to when his mama was alive but it was still in good shape. And whoever heard of airing out drapes? How dirty could they be? They just hang there. “How do you know so much about cleaning house?” he asked.
She bristled at his open speculation but answered even though he suspected she would’ve rather told him to shove it and mind his own business. “My mother was a bit of a stickler when it came to keeping a clean home. She was known to fire the staff for not adhering to her standard,” she muttered.
Staff? His ears pricked at the small tidbit of information but his interest didn’t compel him to inquire further. The woman was becoming a bit of a mystery that only gave him a headache when he tried to figure her out.
He read nothing but honesty as she said, “I just want to do what’s best for the girls, and contrary to what you or that nutty judge may think my girls need their mother.”
He could argue they needed their mother to protect them when their father was being a monster but he figured there was no sense in poking at a beehive when you knew full well nothing but pissed off bees were going to fly out. But that didn’t mean he wanted her moving in. “I don’t want you moving in and I don’t need your services,” he maintained stubbornly.
She squared her jaw, not willing to give up. “Gladys seems nice enough but you can’t really expect an old lady to keep up with three little girls. She can’t even lift Chloe and that’s who she’d be around when the older girls are in school. What if there was an emergency and you weren’t around? Gladys tells me that you work outside a lot. What if she had a heart attack or something?”
“Gladys is fine,” he growled. But he knew he couldn’t expect Gladys to keep up with the girls and he did worry when he had to be outside for any length of time, which given his trade was hard to get around. Still, having Renee here…at the ranch? It smacked of trouble. “The court might not approve of you being around the girls without supervision.”
“I’m not a danger to my own children,” she said quietly and John couldn’t help but soften a bit toward her. “I just want to get to know them again. This is the easiest and most helpful way for both of us. I need a job and a place to stay. You and Gladys need help with the girls. It’s a win-win for us both. And, once the girls and I patch up our relationship, we can all get out of your hair. That’s what you want, right?”
“I want what’s in the girls’ best interests and I don’t know if that includes letting them leave with you anytime soon,” he snapped, knowing full well he hated the idea of letting the girls leave with this nut but as much as she taxed his patience, she’d made valid points in her favor. “Let me think about it,” he said with no small amount of ire in his tone. “I have to talk with the girls first. I don’t want to upset them more than I have to. Their first day of school is tomorrow and neither of the older kids is too happy about it.”
“Alexis used to love school,” Renee murmured, her expression sad. She looked up hopefully. “Maybe I could go with you when you take them.”
He slanted his gaze at her, her blue eyes so much like her oldest daughter’s that he suspected when Alexis grew up she’d be the spitting image of her mama. If that were the case he’d have to beat the boys off with a stick—that is if the girls were still around here by that time, which wasn’t likely. Shifting in annoyance at his thoughts, he grunted an answer.
She blinked at him. “What? I’m sorry…was that a yes or a no?”
“I said fine. Do what you want. Just don’t upset the girls.”
“What time?”
“I’m supposed to have the girls at the school at seven-thirty.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, wondering if he was doing the right thing. Alexis was pretty angry with her mom and he didn’t want to put her through more than she’d already experienced but Renee had a point. She needed to spend more time around them if they were going to repair their relationship. But a part of him could give a fig about Renee getting her kids to love her again. She was the one who screwed up and walked away. Why should she get a second chance at messing with their hearts? But even as the angry thoughts scrolled through his head, he shot a look at Renee and caught the very real fear in her eyes that her girls might never forgive her, and he realized she was probably beating herself up more than he ever could.
Unsure of how he really felt and not particularly interested in digging to find out, he grunted something else in the way of goodbye and headed out to the stables. Working with horses was something he knew and understood. He’d just stick with that.
RENEE WATCHED AS JOHN STALKED off and seeing as she wasn’t entirely sure if he’d just told her to get off his property or go ahead and enjoy an iced tea, she decided to seek out the girls before she returned to town. He hadn’t agreed to her offer but he hadn’t expressly turned her down, either. Renee chose to think optimistically. Perhaps she could get Gladys on her side. Going to the house, she hesitated at the front door, wondering if she should knock or just go in. Deciding it was best to proceed with caution, she gave the door a soft knock and waited.
She could hear the laughter of her girls, at least Taylor, and Renee smiled. Taylor was always her most exuberant child. A tomboy with a wild nest of blond hair that was stick straight and likely to be standing on end each morning. Renee used to fight with her, trying to get a brush through that mess. Tears sprang to her eyes as the memory of being with her girls every day—before she made the decision to leave—made her stiffen against the bittersweet moment. She was different now and she’d never be the woman she was then. Her fingers strayed to the badge on her jacket and as the pads grazed the hard metal, she sought strength from within and from God. She had just enough time to suck a deep breath of cleansing air before the door opened and Taylor stood there.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Renee said, fighting the urge to sweep the little girl into her arms. “Can I come in and visit for a bit?”
“I have to ask Grammy Stemmy,” Taylor said solemnly before running from the door. Renee stepped over the threshold and could hear Taylor yelling in the kitchen. “Renee is here. Can she come in and visit?”
Fresh pain spiked through Renee as her child referred to her by name as if she were a stranger. No doubt Alexis had a hand in that. The girls would do whatever their older sister told them and right now Alexis was more than willing to sever any tie to their mother. But Renee was tougher than that and she was still their mother, no matter what they called her.
“I suppose,” Gladys said warily, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “We were just about to have some hot cider and cherry turnovers. Would you like to share some with us?”
“Sounds wonderful.