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She eyed his shoes—they were held together with duct tape but decided that would have to come on a different trip.
He already looked like he wanted to bolt.
One day at a time,she reminded herself.
That was how she’d taken it when she’d first found herself free of her father’s overbearing, stifling, cruel influence.
It was how she’d handled each of her kids.
Bit by bit, she’d come to trust herself.
Bit by bit, most of the kids she’d taken in had come to trust her.
She’d have to hope for the same with Jacob.
“Are you and Ms. Bellagonna make babies?”
Travis had heard somebody approaching, had checked the reflection in the window and seen it was Brooklyn so he’d had a moment to brace himself.
But he still choked on his beer at her blunt, innocent question.
Slamming a fist against his chest, he turned to look down at the pint-sized, blonde, angelic-looking creature and wondered how in the hell Isabel handled her.
Bella,he reminded himself.Bella.
He’d had a long talk with Miles earlier, including a concise update on ‘Bella Franklin’, and her life here.
So, she’d be Bella ... out loud.
Not sure how to handle such a question from a kid who didn’t look more than four or five years old, he swiped a hand over his mouth, took another sip of beer to ease the rawness in his throat after damn near choking to death, then considered his possible answers.
“Just what do you know about making babies?” he asked. Shit, she couldn’t even be in school yet.
“Everything.” She sniffed as she swung back and forth, making her poofy, purple princess skirt billow out. Today, she wore a tiara that looked a lot like Wonder Woman’s—and that made Travis smile inwardly. No doubt, Diana Prince wouldadorethis little warrior in training.
“Everything, huh?”
“Yeah!” She wrinkled her nose up at him and shot a furtive look around, then made acome heregesture.
Bending over warily, Travis braced himself for more outlandishness.
Brooklyn didn’t disappoint.
“You make babies when a boy puts hispenisin a girl’svagina,” she whispered in a too-loud voice.
Travis straightened and to his unending shock, felt his face go red. “Er ... and how do you knowthat?”
“I read it. In a book.”
“You read it?”
She nodded, looking pleased with herself. “I taught myself to read. I readlotsandlots.”
“And does Is—” He broke off, cleared his throat and looked around. “Does everybody know you’re reading about making babies?”
Her eyes fell away.
“Uh-huh.” He bent forward and braced his hands on his knees. “Just where did you read about this, sweetheart?”
