Hawk's Way: Rebels: The Temporary Groom

“I’m going with Annie!” Raejean cried.

“Raejean—” Cherry began.

“I’m going with Annie!” she screeched hysterically.

Cherry knew the dangers of giving in to a tantrum. But in her mind’s eye she saw Mrs. Trask arriving to find a scene like this and knew she was over a barrel. “All right, Raejean, you can come. I’m sorry for the trouble, Mrs. Winslow.”

She turned and headed for the door with Annie in her arms and Raejean a half step behind her. She was almost out the door when Mrs. Trask showed up.

“What’s the matter with my granddaughter? What have you done to her?” she demanded.

“Annie is fine, Mrs. Trask.” Cherry kept moving down the hall toward the front door of the school, still hoping to escape without a major confrontation.

“Annie’s sick because she ate too many marshmallows,” Raejean volunteered.

“Marshmallows?” Mrs. Trask said as though what she was really saying was “Poison?”

“Annie will be fine, Mrs. Trask.”

“I was afraid of something like this. You’re not responsible enough to be left in charge of two little girls.”

Cherry didn’t want to admit Mrs. Trask might be right. She had misjudged the situation this morning, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do better. She would learn. After all, nobody had practice being a parent before they actually became one.

“Thank you for coming, Mrs. Trask, but as you can see, I have the situation well in hand.”

“I’m coming home with you,” Mrs. Trask said.

“I don’t believe that’s necessary,” Cherry countered.

“I—”

“What’s going on here?”

Cherry stopped in her tracks.

It was Billy. He didn’t look really mad, as Raejean had promised. He looked frantic, his brow furrowed, his sweat-stained work shirt pulled out of his jeans and hanging open, revealing a hairy chest covered with a damp sheen of sweat. He was still wearing his buckskin work gloves, but he was missing his hat. He had obviously shoved an agitated hand through his dark hair more than once, leaving it awry. He looked virile and strong…and very worried.

“I stopped by the house for some tools and found you gone and a message on the answering machine that Annie wasn’t feeling well. Is she all right?”

“I’m sick, Daddy,” Annie cried.