Patchwork Family Read Online Free PDF Page B

she said, “I try to tempt her to eat. She doesn’t have much of an appetite.”
    “I think she’s small-boned,” he said, hoping to appease Molly. Hell, he didn’t know what four-year-olds should weigh.
    He didn’t know anything about kids. And didn’t intend to. Today was the exception to the rule. He couldn’t have abandoned Molly and Sara when he found them in such desperate straits.
    She unlocked the front door, waited for him to enter and then pulled it closed behind him to keep out the cold. “This way,” she said, circling him and starting up the stairs.
    He watched her race ahead of him, her trim figure in his face as he followed. He’d been right about her figure beneath that tacky sweat suit she’d worn yesterday.
    She was a very attractive woman.
    But she was also a mother.
    Cross her off the list of potential lovers.
    Too bad.
    They reached the second floor and she led the way to a staircase almost hidden in the back of the house behind a closed door.
    “Isn’t it a pain, living on the third floor?”
    “No, it keeps us in good shape.”
    He couldn’t disagree with that statement.
    “And it’s like living in a tree house. We feel safe, tucked up here.”
    They reached the top of the stairs and she led him down a short hall, opening the first door on the right. He followed her, seeing only the bed. She pulled back the covers and turned around to take Sara from his arms.
    He let the warm little bundle go, reluctantly. It was only because he felt responsible for her, he quickly assured himself. As he stepped back, he took in his surroundings. Not a large room, but it was the perfect child’s room. A window seat, partially hidden by pink curtains, graced one wall. There was a mural on the wall next to the hall.
    The bed had a pink ruffle around the bottom, beneath a pink and green quilt. Stuffed animals sat on several shelves, as well as storybooks. In one corner at the edge of the matching green rug sat a big brown bear.
    A room full of loving touches. He had no doubt about who was responsible for the perfect child’s room. Molly Blake was the best mother he’d ever met.
    Not that he’d met many mothers. There had been a few society women, a couple of whom had even tried to seduce him when he was dating their daughters. Their selfish attitudes only reinforced his own experience. His mother apparently had been more interested in her own happiness than any problems he or his brothers might have at having been abandoned by her.
    Molly was different.
    He began backing out of the room. “Um, I’ll leave you to make Sara comfortable.”
    She whirled around. “I can’t thank you enough. Oh! The Pedialyte! It’s still in the car.”
    “I’ll go get it.” He was glad for a real excuse to escape the nest Molly had created.
    He hurried down the two flights of stairs and went out to the car. When he’d gotten the large sack, he turned back to the house. As he stepped inside, he drew a deep breath and took in his surroundings for the first time.
    The first floor reflected as much love and care as Sara’s room. The wood on the banister gleamed with polish. The walls had been recently painted a soft cream. Flowers were tastefully arranged on the desk beside the stairway. A glimpse into the other rooms that opened off the main hall, the living room on the right and a large dining room on the left, were filled with antiques as polished as the banister.
    Had she done all the work herself?
    It reminded him of the idea he’d intended to explain to Molly. From his own memories of the house, he knew he had the right idea.
    But the sudden need to escape, to get out of Molly’s personal space—and even the entryway was a reflection of Molly—seized him. He looked around for a place to set the bag.
    “Thanks for getting it out of the car for me,” Molly called as she came down the stairs.
    He jerked around and stared up at her.
    “Sara’s gone to sleep. She’s resting much better and she’s not as