Page 3 of His Brown-Eyed Girl

Chris peered over at her. “Sorry, Miss Abby. Really. I forgot you put this on my trail.”

Addy didn’t say anything. She probably should say something inane like “It’s okay” or “My name’s MissAddy” but she didn’t. Mostly because the child had destroyed part of her newly built greenhouse… and plenty of poor, helpless orchids.

“I’m glad you’re sorry because you’re going to help her rebuild it.” This from tall, dark and somewhat handsome.

“What? No.” Addy turned to the giant glowering at the boy. “That’s really not necessary.”

“The hell it isn’t. I told him to stay off that damn bike while I went in to help his sister. He disobeyed, nearly killed himself, and destroyed property in the process.He’shelping fix this.”

“You’re using cussing,” the kid whined making a god-awful face. “And I don’t know nothin’ about fixin’ stuff.”

“Well, that’s the way you learn.” The man leaned over and picked up the motorbike as if it were a small toy and rolled it toward the split in the plastic just as the older brother arrived on scene.

“Holy shit, Chris, what did you do? Mom’s going to freak.”

“Watch your mouth,” Lucas said, shooting the older boy a stern look, blatantly ignoring his own naughty words moments before.

Michael crossed his arms and gave his uncle a go-to-hell look. “Whatever. Like you don’t cuss.”

Lucas shoved the bike toward Michael. “Take this to the garage.”

Michael caught the bike, looking none too happy. “Why do I have to clean up his messes? I always have to-”

“Do what I said,” Lucas said, his tone brooking no further argument. “Where’s your sister? I left her in the bathroom.”

And that’s when Charlotte showed up sans pants.

“I’m through, Uncle Wucas,” she trilled with a smile, thrusting a wad of toilet paper toward Lucas.

For a moment, all were stunned silent.

“Where are your pants?” Lucas asked as the two older boys started laughing.

“I couldn’t put them on. You hadda wipe me,” said the girl who looked about three or four years old. Old enough to know better than to go outside with a bare behind. Young enough not to care.

The man grunted, lifted his eyes heavenward and took in a deep breath. Addy wasn’t sure if he were praying or trying his best not to bolt toward the huge truck he’d parked in the narrow drive days before. She didn’t know how he’d gotten saddled with the Finlay’s three kids, dog, cat and whatever else they sustained in the rambling shotgun house next door, but he was more of a champ than she.

Or was that chump?

“You’re not supposed to leave the bathroom without clothes on, Lottie. And you can wipe yourself. You know it and I know it,” Chris said looking like a small parent, propping his thankfully uninjured hands on hips. “Wipe yourself.”

“But not when I go poop,” Charlotte said, twisting cherub lips beneath bright blue eyes, corkscrew blond curls and a bow askew on the top of her snarled ponytail. Tears filled her eyes and that bottom lip trembled.

The man’s mouth moved.

Addy was almost certain he was praying.

“Uh, hi, Charlotte. Remember me? I’m Miss Addy,” she said, darting a look toward Chris so he got the message about what her name actually was. “Why don’t you go with Michael back to your house and let him help you find your pants.”

She heard Michael’s bark of protest and shot him a look that said “shut it” before turning back to the darling pantless girl. “When you’re done, you can come back, and I’ll give you a homemade chocolate chip cookie Aunt Flora made for her bridge club.”

Charlotte made a little “o” with her mouth which was adorable enough to melt the sternest of hearts.

Lucas sighed. “Please, Charlotte, go with your brother?”

The little girl looked up, up, up at the big man lurking above her and her little body literally shook. “Mmm’kay.”

Michael rolled his eyes, shifted the dirt bike to Chris and took his sister’s hand—but not before carefully inspecting it—and tugged her out the hole in the greenhouse. Toilet paper trailed behind the barefoot child.

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