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“I wonder what’s going to happen to her. I asked about her grandmother today, but she wasn’t very forthcoming.”
“I met her once, and I don’t think she’s your typical gray-haired grandmother. Sandy was born when she was young, so she’s probably only in her early fifties now.”
“That’s good for the girls. They need someone younger. I just hope she can handle Lucy without breaking her spirit.”
“Nobody’s going to break that kid’s spirit. She’s got a lot of guts.”
She hesitated. “When you talked to her earlier, was she acting strangely?
“What do you mean?”
“Did she . . . say anything about the two of us?”
“Yeah. She said you thought I was hot and sensitive.”
“I never said that.”
“Extremely smart, too. But then I always knew you were a good judge of character. She also volunteered to disappear for a while if I wanted to put any moves on you.” He paused. “Which I do.”
She began to smile, but didn’t quite make it. “Lucy’s doing some matchmaking. I think she believes that if she can get the two of us together we’ll adopt her and Button. That’s why she blew up at me. I told her it wasn’t going to happen.”
His own expression sobered. “This is what I wanted to avoid. I swear if Sandy were still alive, I’d kill her for this.”
“She also doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get to Iowa. The whole thing is starting to worry me. What are you going to do if things don’t work out with the grandmother?”
Nealy didn’t like the way his eyes narrowed. “The girls are Joanne Pressman’s responsibility. She’ll have to make them work out.”
She glanced back at Button sleeping in her car seat, the Beanie Baby walrus curled over one chubby thigh, then gazed at Lucy sprawled across the bed with her head buried in a book. These little girls deserved a family and she could only pray that they’d find one.
Mat had hoped they’d be closer to the Iowa border by nightfall, but the picnic had held them up. Then Nell saw a sign for a county fair, and the next thing he knew, he was perched on the back of a merry-go-round horse with a wide-eyed baby on his lap. Now, as they hit a deserted stretch of highway in central Illinois, that same baby was falling apart. With the closest campground forty miles away and her screams getting louder, he pulled off the highway at a weather-beaten FOR SALE sign.
A narrow, rutted lane led to an abandoned farmhouse. He parked the Winnebago in a small clearing between the house and the skeleton of an old barn.
“I bet a chain-saw murderer or somebody lives here.”
He heard apprehension behind the bravado in Lucy’s voice, but he wasn’t going to make her swallow her pride by mentioning it. “You chicken, ace?”
“No, I’m not chicken! But Nell looks nervous.”
Nell, in fact, looked delighted. But then every new adventure seemed to delight her. “Do you think anyone will mind if we stay here?” she asked.
He opened the door and gazed around at the weedy drive and sagging house. “It doesn’t look like anybody’s been here for a while. I don’t think we have to worry too much.”
He was given Button-duty while Nell boiled some water for the spaghetti he’d bought for emergency rations, along with a jar of sauce. Lucy picked up the debris from their day and set out the dishes without being asked. Nell, who didn’t seem to be able to enjoy a meal without ants, a
nnounced they were eating outside, and they dined on the old quilt spread on the ground in an overgrown apple orchard.
Afterward, Nell wanted to explore. Since there were too many hazards lurking around the ramshackle property for her to go off on her own, he propped Button on his shoulders, and he and Lucy went along. As an occasional spit bubble dripped into his hair, he let his female posse poke around the farm. Near the foundation of the old house, he spotted something pink. When he bent down to see what it was, he discovered an old, weed-strangled rosebush. He plucked off one of the buds that was just beginning to open and handed it to her.
“A perfect rose for a perfect lady.”
He’d meant to tease, but it didn’t come out that way. It sounded sincere, and Nell looked as if he’d given her the Hope diamond.
They wandered around until it was too dark to see. That was when Lucy seemed to remember her role as matchmaker.
“Give me Button, Jorik. Even a moron could figure out that it’s way past her bedtime, and she still needs a bath.”
Button, however, refused to separate, and while Nell stayed outside to enjoy the evening, his rose tucked behind her ear, he found himself on bath duty. He didn’t have the patience to fuss around with putting her in the sink the way Lucy and Nell did, so he set her in the bottom of the shower stall and turned on the spray. Quick and effective.
