Mission: Motherhood

He managed to keep his mind from straying to his own loss. “Not that these two adorable ladies aren’t more than just a job to me.”

“I see.” Her face had stiffened at the reminder of Carolyn and Dean, and he felt a pang of remorse for teasing her as he had. This couldn’t be easy for her.

“I’m sorry for your loss. It must be rough.”

“Yes.” She clipped off the word, as if reluctant to accept sympathy. “Well…” She managed a smile and extended her hand. “It was nice to see you again, Steve.”

He took her hand solemnly, a little amused. “Same here. But it’s a small town, Caitlyn. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

Her smile was stiff. “Come on, girls. It’s time to go home.”

“Don’t want to.” Amanda pouted, looking dangerously near to stamping her feet. “I want to stay with Chaplain Steve.”

“We have to go.” Caitlyn held out her hand.

“No.” Now Amanda did stamp her foot. “I don’t want to.”

Josie took a step closer to him, clearly not knowing what to do at this open mutiny, any more than her aunt did. Caitlyn’s expression said only too clearly that she wasn’t prepared to cope with this.

He knelt next to Amanda, putting one arm reassuringly around Josie. “I’m afraid you can’t stay with me, Amanda, because I have to go to a meeting. And I’ll bet your grandmother is waiting to hear all about how you did at school, don’t you think?”

Amanda pouted a moment longer, as if reluctant to give up her grudge. Then she spun around, holding her picture up. “I’m going to show Grammy my painting. She’ll put it on the refrigerator.”

“Mine, too,” Josie said. “Mine, too.”

“She’ll put mine up first,” Amanda said, and darted toward the car.

“Mine, mine,” Josie shrieked, and ran after her sister.

Caitlyn seemed frozen to the spot for another instant. Then she hurried after them without a backward glance for him.

Steve watched them go, frowning a little. Those children were hurting, and he hurt for them. They needed so much. Was Caitlyn going to be able to provide that?

Or had Carolyn Mayhew made the mistake of her life when she named her sister as their guardian?

Chapter Two

Caitlyn knelt beside the bathtub, wondering how two five-year-olds in a tub could so resemble a pondful of frogs.

Amanda bounced up and down on her bottom, sending a wave of soapy water sloshing toward her sister. Josie’s squeal echoed from the tile tub surround, and she scrambled backward.

“Easy, Amanda.” She caught each twin by a slippery arm. “Don’t fall back against the spigot. That would hurt your head.”

“I won’t.” Amanda bounced again. This time the water splashed Caitlyn’s sleeve to her shoulder.

“Hey!” Smiling in spite of herself, she splashed Amanda back. “No fair. I’m still dressed, not like you.” She tickled a bare dimpled elbow, eliciting a giggle from Amanda.

“I love my bath.” That might be the first thing Josie had volunteered since Caitlyn had been here. Usually she waited for a question before speaking, or echoed what her twin had said.

“What do you like about it?” Caitlyn put a plastic doll into a red boat and zoomed it toward her small, shy niece.

Josie managed a hint of a smile. “Giving my dolls ’ventures. They like that.”

“Good idea.” She let Josie have the boat. “You give your doll an adventure with the boat, while I wash Amanda’s hair.”

Josie nodded, smiling, but Amanda’s face puckered up at the suggestion. What now? Was it ever possible to get both of them happy at the same time?

“I don’t want my hair washed.” Amanda pouted. “You’ll get soap in my eyes.”

“No, I won’t.” Although now that she considered it, she wasn’t sure how you managed to shampoo a wiggly child without disaster. “Tell you what. You show me how Grammy does it, and I’ll do exactly what you say. You be the director, okay?”

Amanda considered that for a moment, and then she nodded. “But you do ’zactly like I say.”

It was a small triumph, but she’d take it. As she shampooed and rinsed, carefully following directions, her thoughts drifted back to the afternoon. Odd, running into Steve Windham like that.

His idea of humor had been more than a little annoying. On the other hand, his concern for the girls had been obvious. And she’d taken note of the way he’d so easily averted Amanda’s tantrum by focusing her on the future instead. She’d remember that technique for the next time Amanda rebelled. And there probably would be a next time. Amanda, like her mother, seemed born to test the boundaries.

Maybe Steve had kids of his own. The thought startled her. It was certainly possible, although he hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring. And exactly why she’d taken note of that, she wasn’t sure.

With one little girl shampooed and one to go, she turned her attention to Josie, who submitted without argument to her shampoo. In a few minutes she was wrapping two wiggling bodies in one large towel.

“Oh my goodness, I’ve got an armful of eels,” she declared, rubbing wet curls. “That’s what Grammy used to say when she dried us.”

“She says that to us, too,” Amanda said. “Now pajamas, and then we’ll tell you just what you hafta do to put us to bed.”

She nodded, spraying Josie’s shoulder-length hair with conditioner before attempting to get a comb through it. This was her first attempt at getting the girls to bed on her own, and she needed all the help she could get.

Finally they were into pajamas and snuggled one on each side of her in their pink-and-white bedroom for a story. She held them close, a little surprised by the strength of affection that swept through her.

If anyone had asked, a few weeks ago, if she loved her nieces, she’d have said yes, but it would have been an abstract emotion. She’d loved them but she hadn’t known them. Now all that was changed.

“‘The Princess and the Pea,’” she read. “I remember this story. Let’s see if it’s changed any since I was a little girl.”

Amanda giggled. “Stories don’t change, Auntie Caitlyn. We read one book and then one Bible story from our Bible Storybook that you gave us for Christmas, and then we say prayers.”

She opened her mouth to say she hadn’t given them a storybook for Christmas, and then shut it again. She’d taken the easy way out and sent a check, and someone, probably Carolyn, had taken the time to buy and wrap presents and put her name on them.

Amanda’s innocent assumption made her feel—well, thoughtless, at the least. Surely she could have taken the time to find out what they wanted and buy the gifts on her own.

That faint uneasiness lingered through the stories and prayers. Caitlyn tucked matching pink quilts around them and kissed their rosy cheeks.

“Auntie Caitlyn?” Amanda was frowning. Had she gotten some part of the routine wrong?

“What is it, sweetie?” She smoothed still-damp hair back from Amanda’s face.

“Are Mommy and Daddy happy in Heaven?”

Whatever she’d expected, it hadn’t been that. A theological question was out of her realm. She wasn’t the person to ask. Chaplain Steve, he’d do a better job of this.