The Christmas Kite Read Online Free PDF Page A

grip on her arm tightened.
    “Would you like to pet the dog?” the man asked, his gaze searching Mac’s face. “I’m sorry Dooley frightened you.”
    “It’s not just the dog,” Meara said, noticing he had seen Mac’s tears. “It’s the kite.” She gestured toward the lake.
    He followed the motion of her hand. “Oh, I see.”
    Lapping against the sand, Meara spied the crossed dowels splotched with fragments of torn, soggy tissue. The rag tail advanced and ebbed in the undulating waves. “Not very successful, was I?”
    A wry grin teased his mouth. “It takes a knack.” He reached forward as if to touch Mac’s head, but drew back. “I’ll tell you what, pal. If your mother buys another kite, I’ll show you how to fly it.”
    Mac’s eyes widened, and he dragged his arm across his moist eyes. Apparently he’d forgotten the dog, because he stepped forward, his grin spreading from ear to ear. “Okay,” he said.
    Dooley’s tail flagged the air as he strained forward. When Mac noticed he stepped away, but the new promise seemed to give him courage, and he edged closer, eyeing the large dog.
    “He likes you, lad,” the man said.
    Mac eased nearer, inching his hand toward the dog’s shiny red coat. Finally his fingers touched the setter’s fur.
    Though his action was fleeting, Meara reveled in the progress Mac had made and the kindness of the man. The man. She had not introduced herself. Before she could follow through with the amenities, he turned and stepped away.
    “When you buy the kite, let me know,” he said, his face darkening as he distanced himself.
    “Thank you, Mr….” But he was out of earshot.
    Down the beach, he gave the dog free rein.
    Meara held Mac’s hand and watched the man following the dog until he disappeared around the bend in the shoreline.
     
    Jordan raced through the sand with Dooley a long stretch ahead of him. He sensed the woman watched, but he didn’t turn around to see if he was correct. Earlier she’d studied him, and he had watched her lovely face shift from laughter to concern to curiosity. So much life in one delicate face. Lila’s face had been round and sturdy, but this woman—He snapped his thoughts closed like a book he’d finally waded through and finished. No more of that. The child and his mother pressed against his thoughts too often. Talk about curiosity. He was as inquisitive about the child’s mother as she appeared to be about him.
    He skidded to a stop in front of the house and drew in a deep calming breath. Dooley had run a good race, but Jordan’s heart hammered for more reason than the swift dash along the sand. Mac had pierced his barricade. Why had he offered to teach the child to fly a kite? He should have escaped immediately. Instead his fatherly instinct had led him to open his foolish mouth. Now he would pay.
    Jordan remembered years earlier when he had built Robbie his first kite. The boy had a knack—like father, like son, as they say. With little help, Robbie ran through the field, the bright yellow tissue billowing, diving and soaring toward the clouds. A warm summer day, it was. And he’d thought then that they had so many bright sunny days to share.
    His chest tightened, holding back the emotion that burned his throat. His gaze lifted to the cerulean-blue sky, and he longed to shake his fist at Lila’s God. But the gesture was useless.
    No fist, no anger, no cursing could bring Robbie or Lila back.

Chapter Three
    T he following day, Meara drove Mac past the apartment listed in the newspaper. The location was near town, but the building needed paint and the grounds needed trimming. Was the inside as badly in need of care? She hesitated. Saying nothing to her son, she continued down the road. Maybe she’d check the newspaper one more time for another option before looking at this apartment.
    In town, Meara found parking and headed for the gift shop. Two kites seemed safer than one, after their last fiasco, and she let Mac select