Patchwork Family

“Now wait just a minute. I brought you the news. You should tell me what you’re talking about.”

“She’s right,” Tillie agreed. “It’s just that—Well, there’s not really anything to tell. More like a hope, don’t you know.”

“A hope for what?” Lydia asked in frustration.

Martha took up the explanation. “Quinn is a lovely man. Most people think he’s a flirt, a playboy, but he’s just afraid of being abandoned. That mother of his left him and his brothers afraid of commitment.”

“You sound like one of those ladies’ magazines, like—like Cosmo.”

“I know what I’m talking about,” Martha said sturdily, determination in her voice. “We want him to be happy.”

“He seems happy to me,” Lydia said.

“But he’s not. The boy hurts. He hides it, but I know,” Martha assured her.

“But how does that have anything to do with little Sara?”

“Woman, think with your heart, eh?” Emma suggested.

“You mean you think he and Molly— But if he avoids women like her, I don’t see—”

“He didn’t avoid her yesterday, according to you,” Merry reminded her. “He has such a soft heart.”

“He was kind, but that doesn’t mean he’ll see her again,” Lydia pointed out.

“And so? Whose side are you on?” Martha demanded.

Lydia stared at her friend. “Why, yours, of course. And Molly’s. I want Molly to be happy. Those Spencer boys, I don’t care what you say, they’re heartbreakers. Like their pa.”

“What do you know about Elias Spencer?” Emma demanded.

Lydia’s cheeks turned bright red. “Nothing! I’ve seen him a few times. About town.” Her fingers twitched, telling her friends she wasn’t being totally honest.

“Elias suffers from the same problem as the boys. He’s never forgiven that woman for leaving him and his sons. Probably never will. Anyone messing with him is asking for heartbreak.”

“Then why plan on Quinn having anything to do with Molly? You want her to be heartbroken again? I think Christopher Blake already did enough damage to poor Molly and her little Sara.”

“Quinn wouldn’t hurt either of them. All we have to do is make sure they spend time together,” Tillie said, narrowing her eyes as if trying to think of a plan.

“That won’t be a problem,” Martha said calmly.

Her friends all stared at her.

“What do you mean?” Lydia asked.

“Just wait and see,” Martha said, stitching again. “Are you ladies going to help or just sit there with your mouths open?”

Chapter Four

The next day was Saturday, so Quinn was able to justify not calling Molly Blake. After all, he didn’t conduct business on weekends. No one expected him to do that.

So he could avoid the lady without admitting his reasons for not calling to tell her the good news he’d stopped by her house for yesterday. Or to tell her the idea he’d come up with. Or to see how little Sara was feeling.

When his brother stopped by the family home Saturday afternoon, where Quinn lived, he asked, “Have you heard from Molly Blake?”

Brady raised one eyebrow, staring at him. “No. Why would I?”

Quinn shrugged, trying to look disinterested. “I thought maybe she’d call you if Sara didn’t get better.”

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Brady leaned against the kitchen counter. “Why wouldn’t she be better? You think I didn’t make the correct diagnosis?”

“Hey, I wasn’t insulting your skills,” Quinn hastily assured his brother. “I just thought—”

“Have you called Mrs. Blake?”

“No. Why would I?” Quinn demanded, taking a step back, repeating his brother’s words without even realizing it.

“Do what?” Elias, their father, demanded as he entered the room.

Quinn almost groaned aloud. He certainly didn’t want either his father or brother to think he had any interest in a woman like Molly Blake. “Nothing.”

“I asked why he hadn’t called Mrs. Blake,” Brady explained, grinning at his brother.

Quinn knew Brady was teasing him. He ground his teeth in silence.

“Who is Mrs. Blake?” Elias demanded. When Quinn had moved back to Tyler over a year ago, he’d returned to his father’s house because he didn’t have enough enthusiasm for life to find his own place. Somehow his father had interpreted his moving in as a return to the parent-child relationship.

“Dad, it doesn’t matter,” Quinn hurriedly said.

“She’s the mother of a sick little girl. Quinn called me yesterday and asked me to see her.”

“This Molly Blake?” Elias demanded.

“No!” Quinn exploded. “Her child, Sara. She’s—she’s like a doll, tiny, sweet…”

“How old is she?” Elias asked, a frown on his face.

“Four.”

“You’re interested in a four-year-old?”

Quinn drew a deep breath and scratched his forehead. Finally he stared at his father. “I was concerned about Sara’s health, that’s all. Anyone would’ve been. She was running a high fever.”

“And so? Why didn’t you call this Molly Blake and ask her how the child was feeling?”

“Dad, you don’t need to— Never mind. I thought Brady might have heard from her, that’s all.” Quinn started for the door. He didn’t want to answer any more questions about Molly Blake and her daughter.

“What’s she look like?” Elias asked Brady.