Defender

He shrugged. “I don’t like talking about the past.”

“I noticed.”

“We could talk about your past,” he invited.

“And after those forty-five seconds, we could go back to yours,” she teased, blue eyes twinkling. “Come on, what did you study?”

“Law.” His face hardened with the memories. “Criminal law.”

She frowned. “That was before you came to work for Daddy, yes?”

She was killing him and she didn’t know it. His hand, on the thick white mug, was almost white with the pressure he was exerting. “A long time before that.”

“Then, what…”

Mandy came into the room like a chubby whirlwind. “Where did you put the ribbons I was saving to wrap the holiday cookies with?” she demanded from Sari.

“Oh, my gosh, I was working on homemade Christmas cards and I borrowed them. I’m sorry!”

“Go get them,” Mandy ordered with all the authority of a drill sergeant. “Right now!”

Sari left in a whirlwind, and Mandy turned to Paul, who was paler than normal. His hand, around the mug, was just beginning to loosen its grip.

He gave her a suspicious look.

“Sari doesn’t think,” Mandy said quietly. “She’s curious and she asks questions, because she doesn’t think.”

He didn’t admit anything. He took a deep breath. “Thanks,” he bit off.

“We all have dark memories that we never share, Mr. Paul,” she said gently. She patted his shoulder as she walked behind him. “Age diminishes the sting a bit. But you’re much too young for that just yet,” she added with a soft chuckle.

“You’re a tonic, girl.”

“I haven’t been a girl for forty years, you sweet man, but now I feel like one!”

He laughed, the pain washing away in good humor.

“There. That’s better,” she said, smiling at him. “You just keep putting one foot in front of the other, and it gets easier.”

“It’s been almost five years.”

“Thirty years for me,” Mandy said surprisingly. “And it’s much easier now.”

He drew in a breath and finished his coffee. “Maybe in twenty-five years, I’ll forget it all, then.”

She looked at him with a somber little smile. “It would do an injustice to the people we love to forget them,” she said softly. “Pain comes with the memories, sure. But the memories become less painful in time.”

He scowled. “You should have been a philosopher.”

“And then who’d bake cookies for you and Miss Sari and Miss Merrie?” she asked.

“Well, if we had to depend on Isabel’s cooking, I expect we’d all starve,” he said deliberately when he heard Sari coming.

She stopped in the doorway, gasping and glaring. “That is so unfair!” she exclaimed. “Heavens, I made an almost-edible, barely scorched potato casserole just last week!”

“That’s true,” Mandy agreed.

Paul glowered. “Almost being the operative word.”

“And I didn’t even mention that I saw you pushing yours out the back door while I was trying to pry open one of my biscuits so I could butter it!”

Sari sighed. “I guess they were a pretty good substitute for bricks,” she added. “Maybe I’ll learn to cook one day.”

“You’re doing just fine, darlin’,” Mandy said encouragingly. “It takes time to learn.” She shot Paul a glance. “And a lot of encouragement.”

“Damn, Isabel, I almost got one of those biscuits pried open to put butter in!” He glanced at Mandy. “How’s that?”

“Why don’t you go patrol the backyard?” Sari muttered.

“She’s picking on me again, Mandy,” he complained.

“Don’t you be mean to Mr. Paul, young lady.” Mandy took his part at once.

“He says terrible things about me, and you never chastise him!” Sari accused.

“Well, darlin’, I may be old, but I can still appreciate a handsome man.” She grinned at them.

Sari threw up her hands. Paul made her a handsome bow, winked and walked out the back door.

“You always take his side,” Sari groaned.

Mandy chuckled. “He really is handsome,” she said defensively.

“Yes. Too handsome. And too standoffish. He’ll never look at me as anything but the kid I was when he came here.”

“You’ve got law school to get through,” Mandy reminded her. She sobered. “And you know how your dad feels about you getting involved with anyone.”

“Yes, I know,” Sari said miserably. “Especially anybody who works for him.” Shivering softly, she said, “It’s just, I’m getting older. I’m a grown woman. And I can’t even drive myself to San Antonio to go shopping or invite friends over.”

“You don’t have any friends,” Mandy countered.

“I don’t dare. Neither does Merrie,” she added solemnly. “We’re young, with the whole world out there waiting for us, and we have to get permission to leave the house. Why?” she exclaimed.

Mandy ground her teeth. “You know how your dad guards his privacy. He’s afraid one of you might let something slip.”

“Like what? We don’t know anything about his business, or even his private life,” Sari exclaimed.

“And you’re both safe as long as it’s kept that way,” Mandy said without thinking, then slapped a hand across her mouth.