Lost and Found Groom McLinn, Patricia (love books to read .TXT) đź“–
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Not even a burger and fries (and the amazing mess they could make in the hands of a master) had ameliorated Matthew’s cranky suspiciousness at not encountering those expected faces, though the cooing attentions of the teenage waitress had helped some. By the time they’d reached the library for the movie, Daniel had been sorely tempted to hand Matthew over to Ellyn and bolt.
But the time with Ellyn and Meg Sinclair–and Matthew’s fascination with Toto–seemed to restore some of his son’s faith in the world, if not in Daniel. Matthew had some justification for his wariness. Not only couldn’t Daniel get his car started, but transferring the damned child seat from his car to Ellyn’s had been a fiasco.
Matthew’s improved mood lasted until the moment Ellyn dropped them off at Kendra’s house and he realized his mother wasn’t there.
The military ought to check into distraught two-year-olds as a secret weapon. If the heart-rending pathos of flooding tears and pitiful cries for “Mommy, Mommy” didn’t bring a man to his knees, the sheer volume would. Add on the bruises and frustrations of trying to get a squirming body with the power of a pro wrestler packed first into a clean diaper and then into a diabolical contraption called a sleeper, and it could break the toughest man.
Kendra might have thought Daniel had been lying in wait for her, but in fact he’d collapsed on the sofa and fallen asleep.
Between mother and child, it had not been Daniel’s finest hour, or evening.
He pushed off from the fence. That wasn’t going to stop him. Not from spending time alone with his son. Not from pursuing his son’s mother.
*
The next afternoon an assignment for the Banner took Kendra to Sheridan. She stopped in a drug store for aspirin to fight a raging headache. She’d had it when she woke up. Finding her car keys on the counter and her car parked neatly by the back door hadn’t helped.
He had to have been in her house to return the keys and he had to have been up before dawn to get her car back. On a Sunday morning, where’d he find a ride? Or had he walked back to wherever he lived now? What if he couldn’t get his car fixed? Or–
No. None of that was her concern.
Aspirin in hand, she turned and came face to face with a display of condoms.
She would never need them. Certainly not with Daniel–that would be crazy. And, at the rate she was going, not with any man.
On the other hand, history showed that when she had needed them, she hadn’t had them. From a practical standpoint . . .
Without regard for the finer points, she grabbed a packet.
*
If Daniel had had any thought of keeping where he and Matthew had spent Tuesday afternoon a secret from Kendra, their son’s new word ended that idea immediately.
“Plane! Mommy, plane!”
Matthew started in as soon as Daniel freed him from the car seat and he came barreling toward where she stood outside the back door with the binoculars she’d been using to scan the mountainside.
“Yes, sweetheart. Planes are in the sky.”
“No. No. Plane! Mat’ew–plane!”
“Plane? You saw a plane? Oh!” Kendra spun around to Daniel, walking leisurely toward her. “You took him up in a plane! You had no right–”
“Don’t be so fast to judge, convict and execute. We–”
“Pop’ler, Mommy. Vrrrrm-vrrrrm-vrrrrm!” Matthew tugged at Kendra’s jeans. When she didn’t respond immediately enough for him, he looked to Daniel. “Pop’ler? Dan’l, pop’ler?”
“That’s right, Matthew. That’s the noise a propeller makes.”
“Pop’ler,” Matthew nodded. “Pop’ler, Mommy!”
“Daniel, how could you–”
“I know questions are your strong point, but how about if you hold off, Kendra? I think you’ve got someone right now who’d like to tell you what he discovered this afternoon.”
Kendra glared at him long enough to convey she didn’t appreciate the crack about her asking questions, or for being found lacking in paying attention to Matthew. Then she crouched to face her son.
“You heard a propeller, Matthew?”
He nodded emphatically, his dark eyes, as warm and compelling as his father’s, shining with excitement. “Pop’ler, Mommy!” Matthew prattled on with words tumbling over each other so rapidly that even she, who’d heard each of his words first–until today, she thought with a jolt–had difficulty making them out. Although propeller, plane, sky and vrrrmm reoccurred. Along with another word.
“Roof?” she repeated tentatively.
“Rufus Trent,” Daniel filled in. “He owns the airport, and some planes. He showed us around, and let Matthew sit in a cockpit.”
And now she recognized another of her son’s new words–pilot.
“Mat’ew pilot!”
He reached up toward Daniel, both arms raised, small fists opening and closing in the universal sign for “Gimme.”
Daniel reached into his light jacket and pulled something out. A couple of quick movements of his long fingers, and he handed over to Matthew a balsa wood plane.
“Me pilot!” Matthew exulted, running down the driveway making his version of engine noises.
Kendra glared at Daniel, hands on hips.
He shrugged, but didn’t sound the least apologetic. “He wanted a plane. He said he didn’t have one.”
She wouldn’t be sidetracked. “Explain,” she demanded as soon as Matthew was out of earshot.
“Explain? You make it sound like I’ve committed a crime.” His frown matched his tone–irked. “I took him by the Far Hills airport. I wanted to introduce my son to something I love. That’s no crime.”
His expression shifted, allowing in a glint of joy. “He loved it. Rufus has a couple nice little planes. Nothing fancy, but he keeps them spit and polish, inside and out. Matthew and I got inside, and he saw the instrument panel and even tried the throttle. But we never left the ground, Kendra.”
“You told me before you two left that you wanted to show Matthew where you’re staying.”
“I said I wanted to show you both where I’m living.” His emphasis disputed her less permanent
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