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Guy turned up the television and sat down very close to the screen. He didn’t say a word.
Melody cried herself to sleep that night. Randy had Adell, but Melody had no other family. Alistair was the only real family she had left. She was so sick at heart that she didn’t know how she was going to stand it. Dismal images of Alistair being run over or chased by dogs and children made her miserable.
She got up early and fixed bacon and eggs before she called the children. They were unnaturally quiet, too, and ate very little. Melody was preoccupied all through the meal. When it was over, she went outside to search some more. But Alistair was nowhere to be found.
Later, she took the kids to the hospital to see Emmett. He was sitting up in a chair looking impatient.
“Get me the hell out of here,” he said immediately. “I’m leaving whether they like it or not!”
He seemed to mean it. He was fully dressed, in the jeans and shirt and boots he’d been wearing when they’d taken him to the hospital. The shirt was bloodstained but wearable. He looked pale, even if he sounded in charge of himself.
“What did the doctor say?”
“He said I could go if I insisted, and I’m insisting,” Emmett said. “I’ll take the kids and go back to the hotel.”
Melody went closer to him, clutching her purse. “Mr. Deverell, don’t you realize what a risk you’d be taking? If you won’t think of yourself, do think of the kids. What will they do if anything happens to you?”
“I won’t stay here!” he muttered. “They keep trying to bathe me!”
She managed a faint smile even through her misery. “It’s for your own good.”
“I’m leaving,” he said, his flinty pale green eyes glaring straight into her dark ones.
She sighed. “Well, you can come back with us for today,” she said firmly. “I can’t let you stagger around Houston alone. My boss would never forgive me.”
“Think so?” He narrowed one eye. “I don’t need help.”
“Yes, you do. One more night won’t kill me, I suppose,” she added.
“Her cat ran away,” Amy said. “She’s very sad.”
Emmett scowled. “Alistair? How could he run away? Don’t you live in an apartment building?”
“Yes. I… He must have gotten out the door,” she said, staring down at her feet. “The stairwell door was open, where the workmen were going in and out of the building.”
“I’m sorry,” he said shortly. He glanced at the kids. Amy and Polk seemed very sympathetic, but Guy was surlier than ever and his lower lip was prominent. Emmett’s eyes narrowed.
“Have you checked yourself out?” Melody asked, changing the subject to keep from bursting into tears.
“Yes.” He got to his feet, a little unsteadily.
“I’ll help you, Dad,” Guy said. He propped up his father’s side. He wouldn’t look at Melody.
“Did you drive or take a cab?” he asked her.
“I drove.”
“What do you drive?”
“A Volkswagen,” she told him.
He groaned. She smiled for the first time that day. As tall as he was, fitting him inside her small car, even in the front seat, was going to be an interesting experience.
And it was. He had to bring his knees up almost to his chin. Polk and Amy laughed at the picture he made.
“Poor Emmett,” Amy said. “You don’t fit very well.”
“First you shove gory pictures under my nose. Then you stuff me into a tin can with wheels,” Emmett began with a meaningful glance in Melody’s direction.
“Don’t insult my beautiful little car. It isn’t the car’s fault that you’re too tall,” she reminded him as she started her car. “And you were horrible to me. I was only getting even.”
“I am not too tall.”
“I hope you aren’t going to collapse,” she said worriedly when he leaned his head back against the seat. “I live on the fourth floor.”
“I’m all right. I’m just groggy.”
“I hope so,” she murmured. She put the car in gear and reversed it.
Guy helped him into the elevator and upstairs. Amy and Polk got on the other side, and between them, they maneuvered him into Melody’s apartment and onto her sofa.
The sleeping arrangements were going to be interesting, she thought. She could put Emmett and the boys in her bedroom and she and Amy could share the sleeper sofa. It wasn’t ideal, but it would be adequate. What wouldn’t was managing some pajamas for Emmett.
“I don’t wear pajamas,” he muttered. “You aren’t going to be in the bedroom, so it won’t concern you,” he added with a glittery green stare.
She turned away to keep him from seeing the color in her cheeks. “All right. I’ll see about getting something together for sandwiches.”
At least, he wasn’t picky about what he ate. That was a mixed blessing. Perhaps it was the concussion, making him so agreeable.
“This isn’t bad,” he murmured when he’d finished off two egg salad sandwiches.
“Thank you,” she replied.
“I hate eggs,” Guy remarked, but he was still eating his sandwich as he said it. He didn’t look at Melody.
“And me,” Melody added for him. He looked up, surprised, and her steady gaze told him that she knew exactly how her cat had managed to get out the door and lost.
He flushed and put down the rest of his sandwich. “I’m not hungry.” He got up and went into the living room with Amy and Polk, who were eating on TV tables.
Emmett ran a big hand through his dark hair. “I’m sorry about your cat,” he said.
“So am I.” She got up and cleared away the dishes. “There’s coffee if you’d like some.”
“I would. Black.”
“I’ll bet you don’t eat catsup on steak, either,” she murmured.
He smiled at her as she put a mug of steaming coffee beside his hand. “Smart girl.”
“Why do you ride in rodeos?” she asked when she was sitting down.
The question surprised him. He leaned back in his chair fingering the hot mug, and considered it. “I always have,” he began.
“It must be hard on the children, having you away from home so much,” she continued. “Even if your housekeeper does look after them.”
“They’re resourceful,” he said noncommittally.
“They’re ruined,” she returned. “And you know it. Especially Guy.”
His eyes narrowed as they met hers. “They’re my kids,” he said quietly. “And how I raise them is none of your business.”
“They’re my nephews and niece,” she pointed out.
His face went taut under its dark tan. “Don’t bring that up.”
“Why do you have to keep hiding from it?” she asked miserably. “Randy’s my brother. I love him. But he couldn’t have taken Adell if she hadn’t wanted to go with him…!”
“My God, don’t you think I know that?” he asked with bridled fury.
She saw the pain in his face, in his eyes, and she understood. “But, it wasn’t because something was lacking in you,” she said softly, trying to make him understand. “It was because she found something in Randy that she needed. Don’t you see, it wasn’t your fault!”
His whole body clenched. He grimaced and lifted the cup, burning his lips as he forced coffee between them. “It’s none of your business,” he said gruffly. “Let it alone.”
She wanted to pursue the subject, but it wouldn’t be wise. She let it go.
“There’s a little ice cream,” she told him.
He shook his head. “I don’t like sweets.”
Just like Guy, but she didn’t say it. Guy hated her. He hated her enough to let her cat out the door and into the street. Her eyes closed on a wave of pain. It was just as well she wasn’t mooning over Emmett, because she was certain that Guy wouldn’t let that situation develop.
“You should be in bed,” she told Emmett after a tense minute.
“Yes,” he agreed without heat and then stood up slowly. “Tomorrow I’ll take the kids back to the hotel, and we’ll get a flight out to San Antonio. We’ll all be out of your hair.”
She didn’t argue. There was nothing to say.
Chapter 3
Earlier in the day, Melody had telephoned the nearest veterinarian’s office and animal shelter, hoping that Alistair might turn up there. But the veterinarian’s receptionist hadn’t heard of any lost cats, and there was only a new part-time girl at the animal shelter who wasn’t very knowledgeable about recent acquisitions. In fact, she’d confided, they’d had a fire the week before, and everything was mixed up. The lady who usually ran the shelter was in the hospital, having suffered smoke inhalation trying to get the animals out. She was very sorry, but she didn’t know which cats were new acquisitions and which were old ones.
Melody was sorry about the fire, but she was even more worried about her cat. She went out into the hall one last time to call Alistair, in vain because he didn’t appear. She just had to accept that he was gone. It wasn’t easy. It was going to be similar to losing a member of her family, and part of her blamed Guy for that. He might hate her, but why had he taken out that hatred on her cat? Alistair had done nothing to hurt him.
Melody slept fitfully, and not only because she was worried about Alistair. The couch was comfortable, as a rule, but Amy was a restless sleeper and it was hard to dodge little flailing arms and legs and not wake up.
Just before daylight, she gave up. She covered the sleeping child, her eyes tender on the little oval face with its light brown hair and straight nose so reminiscent of Adell. Amy’s eyes, though, were her father’s. All the kids had green eyes, every single one. Adell’s were blue, and her hair was light brown. Amy was the one who most resembled her mother, despite her tomboy ways and the temper that matched her father’s. That physical resemblance to her mother must have been very painful to Emmett when Adell first left him. Guy seemed to be his favorite, and it wasn’t surprising. Guy looked and acted the most like him. Polk was just himself, bespectacled and slight, with no real distinguishing feature except his brain. He seemed to be far and away the brains of the bunch.
She pulled on her quilted robe, her long hair disheveled from sleep, and went slowly into the bathroom, yawning as she opened the door.
Emmett’s dark eyebrows levered up when she stopped dead and turned scarlet.
“Sorry!” she gasped, jerking the door back shut.
She went into the living room and sat down in a chair, very quickly. It was disconcerting to find a naked man stepping out of her shower, even if he did have a body that would grace a centerfold in any women’s magazine.
He came out a minute later with a towel wrapped around his lean hips. He had an athlete’s body, wide shouldered and narrow hipped, and his legs were incredible, Melody thought. She stared at him pie-eyed, trying to act sophisticated when she was just short of starstruck.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think to lock the door. I assumed this was a little early for you to be up, and I needed a shower.”
“Of course.”
He frowned as he stared down at her. She was doing her best not to look at him, and her cheeks were flaming. He was an experienced man, and he’d been married. He understood without words why she was reacting so violently to what she’d seen.
“It’s all right,” he said gently, and he smiled at her. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
She swallowed. “Right. Would you like some breakfast?”
“Anything will suit me. I’ll get dressed.”
She nodded, but she didn’t look as he strode back into the bedroom and gently closed the door.
She got up and went to the kitchen, surprised to find that her hands shook when she got the pans out and began to put bacon into one.
Emmett came back while she was breaking eggs into a bowl. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, which stretched over his powerful muscles. He wasn’t wearing shoes. He looked rakish and appealing. She pretended not to notice; her memory was giving her enough trouble.
Melody wasn’t dressed because she’d forgotten to get her clothes out of the bedroom the night before. That had been an unfortunate oversight, because he was staring quite openly at her in the long green gown and matching quilted robe that fit much too well and showed an alarming amount of bare skin in the deep V neckline. She wasn’t wearing makeup, but her blond-streaked brown hair and freckled pale skin gave her enough color to make her interesting to a man.
Emmett realized that she must not know that, because she kept fiddling with her hair after she’d set the eggs aside and started to heat a pan to cook them in.
“Where are the plates?” he asked. He didn’t want to add to her discomfort by staring.
“They’re up in the cabinet, there—” she gestured “—and so are the cups and saucers. But you don’t have to…”
“I’m domesticated,” he said gently. “I always was, even before I married.” The words, once spoken, dispelled his good mood. He went about setting the table and didn’t speak again until he was finished.
Melody had scrambled eggs and taken up the bacon while the biscuits were baking. She took them out of the oven, surprised to see that they weren’t overcooked. People in the kitchen made her nervous—Emmett, especially.
“You couldn’t get to your clothes, could you?” he mused. “I should have reminded you last night.”
It was an intimate conversation. Having a man in her apartment at all was intimate, and after having met him in the altogether in the bathroom, Melody was more nervous than ever.
“That’s all right, I’ll dress when the boys get up. You could call them…?”
“Not yet,” he replied. “I want to talk to you.”
“About what?”
He motioned her into a chair and then sat down across from her, his big, lean hands dangling between his knees as he studied her. “About what you said last night. I’ve been thinking about it. Did Adell tell you that it was loving Randy, not hating me, that broke up our marriage?”
