A convenient proposal

“I’m not interested in any bloody party. It’s the kids I care about. Did you feed them any dinner, Sharon? Are they wearing clean pajamas?”

“Of course.” Sharon spoke slowly, enunciating with the precision of someone who couldn’t be sure just what would come out of her mouth.

“Let me see.” He started for the door again, but she backed up, shaking her head.

“Tomorrow. My head hurts.”

Of course your head hurts, you moron. He felt like shaking her. How much had she drunk tonight? He loped up the sidewalk, but by the time he reached the landing, Sharon had shut the door against him. The sound of the dead bolt closing was conspicuous in the now-quiet night.

Mick cursed and slammed his hand on the railing.

From behind him, he heard a rustling. Before he had time to turn, Kelly was speaking. “We’ve got to do something, Mick.”

“I’m trying.”

“I know.” Her tone was placating. “But you haven’t been over much lately.”

Of course he hadn’t. Because he was too damn busy courting the woman he wanted to take care of Amanda and Billy. The mother figure that Sharon appeared neither willing to be nor capable of being.

“I’m not blaming you, Mick.”

“I would say not. If anyone was to be blamed…”

“I know—I know.”

Kelly’s quick acceptance of her culpability sapped the satisfaction out of lashing at her.

“If only Sharon could get a grip on herself. I took her to see a doctor and to an AA meeting.” But she’d only gone because he’d made a fuss. He realized that she wouldn’t make any progress in controlling her drinking unless it was something she wanted to do.

“To the doctor?”

“Sharon’s pregnant.”

Kelly gave a small gasp.

“Exactly.” He dug his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket. “Just the complication Sharon needs right now, especially with—Kelly?”

The tall brunette put her hand to her mouth. Then she rushed to a hedge across the street. At the unmistakable sound of retching, Mick realized that Sharon’s unborn baby added yet another layer to the former cop’s guilt. He supposed he ought to have been more tactful.

He waited a minute, shuffling snow around with his feet. In his pocket, he had a paper napkin left over from lunch at the Bagel Bites Café. When Kelly was standing again, he went to her and offered it.

“Thanks.” She turned away from him as she cleaned herself up.

“Don’t take it so hard,” he said, quelling an impulse to put a hand to her shoulder. “I’ve got a plan. I’m hoping to get married soon. Then I’m going to offer to take Sharon’s children for a while, to give her a chance to settle down.”

“Oh.” Kelly’s eyes were huge in her pale face. “Who are you marrying?”

“Well, I haven’t asked her yet. But I’m hoping it’ll be Abby Stevens.”

“The kindergarten teacher?”

“Yeah. We’ve been dating for a while.”

“Oh,” she said again.

Somehow they both started walking along the road. The snow had stopped, but enough had fallen to turn the narrow street into a sparkling wonderland. Their boots crunched in the fresh drifts, and clouds of ice crystals formed with each exhaled breath.

“I know Abby,” Kelly said at last. “She invites me to her class every fall to speak to the kids about Halloween safety.” After a pause, she added, “She’s cute.”

“Yeah.” He was beginning to think Abby was too cute, and that that was the problem. After their walk, he’d taken Abby home. At the door, he suspected, she had hoped for more than one short kiss good-night. But again, he’d felt no urge to carry things further.

“She’ll be great with the kids,” he said.

Kelly stopped walking, so he did, too. “You’re in love with her, right?”

He bristled. “That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”

She took hold of his arm and forced him to face her. Those eyes of hers were so probing. And no wonder. She was a cop, after all.

“You’re just marrying her because of the kids.”

“Not real—” The denial jammed in his throat. That was the truth, so why not admit it? “Isn’t that what marriage is all about? Raising kids. What does it matter if they aren’t ours?”

“Of course it doesn’t matter, Mick. But marriage is about more than kids.”

“Not in my book. Too many of the stories I cover for the paper are about tragedies that happen because parents don’t put their children’s interests first.” Messy divorces, youngsters raised in poverty, family violence. God, he’d seen so many messed-up families. Not the least, his own brother’s.

“Does Abby know how you feel about marriage? About her? She’s always struck me as the romantic type.”

Mick freed the air trapped in his lungs. He didn’t like the direction of Kelly’s conversation. He had to marry Abby. If he didn’t, he’d lose precious weeks of courting time; he didn’t want to start from scratch with another woman.

“Why don’t you hire a nanny instead of getting married?”

He’d thought about that option a lot. It had much to recommend it, but most of the benefits were to him, not the kids. “After all Billy and Mandy have been through, a nanny just isn’t good enough.”

“I see.”

“Don’t give me that look. If Abby agrees to marry me, I intend to be a good husband.”

“I’m sure that you do.”

Abruptly, Mick started back toward his vehicle. Kelly stuck right beside him, her long stride easily matching his purposeful pace. At the door to his truck he paused to fish out his keys. The next thing he knew, Kelly had her hand over the lock.

“What are you doing?”

“Mick, I don’t think you should marry Abby.”

He swore for the second time that night. “And what about Billy and Amanda?” he asked. “I suppose you have a better idea how I can look after them?”