Substitute Father

Kealey’s gaze flickered toward Luke before veering back to Brian. “How about your teacher? Do you like her?”

“Yeah.”

“What about the other kids in the class?” Kealey prodded.

“They’re okay, too.”

Since it was evident he was going to remain taciturn, Kealey turned to Troy. He was much more forthcoming, chattering about the toys and crafts in kindergarten. As the youngest, he seemed remarkably well-adjusted, obviously trusting his older siblings.

Finally she turned to Hannah. “And how’s the first grade?”

Hannah bit her lip, her already large eyes seeming huge. “I was scared at first.”

Kealey leaned forward. “How about now?”

“Not so much anymore. Luke went to school with me three times.”

Kealey glanced at him in surprise.

He shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. “They kicked me out because I was too big for the chairs.”

Hannah and Troy giggled madly. Even Brian snickered.

Kealey turned back to Hannah. “So now it’s okay?”

The little girl bobbed her head up and down. “Uh-huh. They liked Luke and my backpack.”

Surprise took over Kealey for a moment. “They did?”

“Mine’s prettiest. I love pink.”

Kealey was immensely grateful that she’d insisted on the girlish backpack. It was a little thing to be sure, but she remembered how much the little things had mattered. “I’m glad, Hannah.”

Hannah blinked her cornflower-blue eyes. “Luke says you picked it out.”

Again surprise flitted through her. Most men would have taken credit for the act. “But it was his idea to buy the backpacks.”

Hannah leaned forward, whispering. “He’s nice.”

Kealey couldn’t resist an answering smile. But she couldn’t yet agree with the child. So much was at stake here. Luke might very well be nice, but he wasn’t part of a two-parent family.

“We’re going to make popcorn,” Troy announced.

“You can have some,” Hannah offered. Then she scrunched up her small face, turning to Luke. “Can’t she?”

Luke met Kealey’s eyes, his own inscrutable. “Sure. We have enough popcorn for the whole neighborhood.”

“But the neighborhood’s not coming over,” Hannah protested.

“You’re absolutely right, punkin,” Luke told her. Then he reached over, picking up Hannah and raising her high in the air. “But who knows how much you’re going to eat?”

Hannah’s giggles spilled into the room. Troy, along with a more reluctant Brian, joined in as they paraded to the kitchen, followed by the dogs.

Luke was like the Pied Piper, Kealey realized, trailing more slowly. And the longer the children stayed with him, the more difficult the break would be.

Troy and Hannah collected several bowls, all mismatched, yet somehow perfect for popcorn.

“I’ll grab the popper,” Luke was saying. “Kealey, do you want to help Brian melt the butter?”

She blinked, realizing again that Luke had a way of including everyone. “Sure.”

And within a few moments they located a pan and the butter.

“You turn the heat real low,” Brian told her seriously.

“That’s right. How’d you know?”

He shrugged, a forlorn gesture. “I used to help my mom when she cooked stuff.”

Kealey felt his loneliness as deeply as she had once felt her own. As the oldest, Brian’s loss was keener, more difficult—because he hadn’t allowed himself to be a child, to simply grieve. Instead he continued watching over his siblings, taking on the responsibility of being head of the family. She made a mental note to discuss his case with her supervisor, to see if a therapist might be in order.

Soon, kernels of corn began bursting into white clouds in the popper, each mini explosion scenting the air. And Luke brewed hot cocoa as well.

However, Kealey was surprised when he headed back toward the living room with the refreshments. “Isn’t this kind of messy?” she asked, knowing little ones tended to scatter and spill.

“My entire house is for living,” he replied with a shrug. “Spills and messes included.”

Within a few minutes, the kids were sprawled out on the thick rug that anchored the wide-planked wooden floor. They dug into the overflowing bowls of popcorn and sipped cocoa from steaming stone-ware mugs.

Kealey perched stiffly on the couch, watching.

Luke placed a mug in her hands, then dropped down on the floor beside her, managing to share the rug with the children, yet not making Kealey feel isolated from the cozy group.

However, his proximity made her very aware of his tall, strong frame, the slant of his handsome profile. Kealey had been highly aware of his rugged good looks when they’d first met. Despite that, she was uncomfortable with someone so open, so…

So much what she wanted to be but wasn’t.

Kealey had known from the moment Rachel had insisted on setting up the meeting that it wouldn’t work. But Rachel was one of her rare friends and it had been impossible to refuse.

Luke turned just then, scattering her thoughts. “How’s the cocoa?”

Realizing she hadn’t yet tasted it, she sipped some, surprised at the rich taste. “It’s better than I expected,” she admitted.

“It was one of my grandmother’s specials—all of us learned how to make it. And homemade has its advantages.”

Looking down into his warm, unshifting eyes she had to agree. “I’m sure it does.”

Hannah rose to her knees, balancing one of the bowls of popcorn. “Do you want some?” Her small fingers, slippery with butter, were having trouble hanging on to the large bowl.