Forever Grace (22 page)

Grace tugged her coat from its hook. “Do you have any idea how long she’s been missing?”

Josh shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again.

Grace swallowed against the heart that had taken up residence in her throat. “Let’s not panic, okay? I’m sure she’s just wandered off into the woods” —where at least one bear lived— “or down the driveway to the road. Or maybe to Mr. —”

“I found her mittens on the chair beside the lake. She kept asking to go for a swim after you went to lie down. You don’t think—”

Grace bolted from the cottage, screaming her niece’s name.

“Nicholas was right,” Gareth observed from behind Sean. “That is definitely a baby.”

Sean looked down at the toddler patting his cast and grinning up at him.

“Man owie,” said Annabelle cheerfully. Then she peered past him at the family gathering and pointed a chubby finger. “Who dat?”

“I’m Nicholas,” said Gwyn’s son. “What’s your name?”

“Her name is Annabelle,” Sean said. “She belongs to my neighbor.”

“What in the world is she doing here all by herself?” Gwyn asked.

A faint call reached through the still-open sliding door. A woman’s voice, underscored by panic. Sean grimaced.

“Besides giving her aunt a heart attack, you mean?”

“Aunt? Not mother?”

“Long story.” Sean glanced over his shoulder at Katie. “Would you be a sweetheart and grab my coat from the hook by the door? It’s the black one.”

Gareth’s hands closed over his upper arms and shuffled him sideways, away from the door. “I suspect it will be faster for me to get her. Especially with a toddler in tow.”

“There’s no way Annabelle will go with you. She pitches a fit if her own aunt tries to take her away before she’s ready.”

His cousin’s dark eyebrow ascended. “I see. And she and her aunt visit often enough for you to know that from experience? Why, Sean McKittrick, you dark horse, you.”

“Blow it out your—” Sean broke off at the sound of Gwyn’s cleared throat reminding him of the presence of tender ears. He shot her an apologetic look, then scowled at Gareth. “Well? Are you going to get her or not?”

“Just waiting for a name and a direction, cuz.”

“She’s that way,” said Sean, pointing out the door, “and her name is Grace.”

The initial paralysis gripping Grace’s brain gave way to the tumble of a thousand thoughts and possibilities, each more horrific than the last. Annabelle lost in the woods, cold and hungry, curling up and going to sleep, never to wake again. Annabelle at the bottom of the lake, her blond curls tangled in the weeds. Emergency crews dredging the water. Divers bringing up the body. How could she have failed Julianne so horribly?

Grace cupped shaking hands around her mouth and shouted again.

“Annabelle!”

Her niece’s name echoed across the water and bounced back to her. She waited for a response, listening with every fiber of her being. Nothing. She slipped her hand into her pocket and clutched Annabelle’s tiny mittens, abandoned on the chair as Josh had said. For the hundredth time, her gaze raked the sand between the chair and the waterline. Dozens of footprints marred the surface from the kids playing down here under her supervision, skipping rocks, building sand castles. If there was any way to tell whether some were fresher than others, she didn’t know it.

She needed help.

Sean. He would know what to do.

Grace scanned the unbroken stillness of the water a final time, then turned back toward the cottage. She drew up short, the breath leaving her lungs in a hiss when she found an unfamiliar man blocking her way.

“You must be Grace,” he said. “I’m Sean’s cousin Gareth. I believe you may have misplaced something.”

SEAN SLID THE GLASS DOOR
open as Grace ran across the deck, her face pale and taut with worry. He shifted out of her way, and she stepped past him into the cottage, took one look at Annabelle, seated on Sean’s living room floor with a pile of wooden blocks and Gwyn and Gareth’s brood, and promptly burst into tears. Sean leaned one of his crutches against the wall beside the door and reached for her with his free arm.

“Hey,” he soothed. “She’s safe. Everything is fine.”

“I thought—I thought—” Grace gulped and buried her face against his shoulder.

Over the top of her dark head, Sean saw Gwyn and Gareth exchange looks. Gwyn raised an eyebrow. Gareth shrugged. Sean ignored them both. He bent his head and focused on the woman he held, her body wracked with trembling so fierce, he feared she might fall apart. He tightened his arm around her.

“She’s okay, Grace,” he whispered, willing her to hear him, feeling her terror, aching for her. “It’s all good.”

Grace nodded against him and snuffled. “I know,” she mumbled. “I know she is. It’s just—I was just—Josh found her mittens beside the lake, and…”

Fresh tears flowed, wetting Sean’s shirt further. He unlocked his arm long enough to accept the wad of tissue Gwyn plucked from the box on the counter and held out to him. Then he set the other crutch beside its mate, balancing on his good leg.

“No sudden moves,” he warned Grace, “or you’ll dump me on my ass again.”

“Again?” Gareth drawled. “This sounds interesting.”

“Mommy, Uncle Sean said a bad word!” Maggie piped up, her eyes round.

Grace giggled into Sean’s wet shoulder, and he felt his heart lighten. He tucked the tissue into her hand and stuck his tongue out at his step-niece.

“Traitor,” he told the little girl, adding a wink.

“
And
he stuck out his tongue!” Nicholas added indignantly.

“I’m sure Uncle Sean is sorry,” Gwyn said. “Go back to your blocks.”

“But—”

“Blocks,” she repeated, and argument ceased. She patted Grace’s shoulder. “I’ll put on some tea, and you can join us for lunch. It will give you a chance to get your bearings again.”

Sean felt Grace’s concerted effort to pull herself together. She lifted her head, blew her nose, and summoned a watery smile.

“Thank you,” she said, “but I can’t. I have to get back to the others. They’ll be worried.”

“There are more?”

“Three,” Sean said.

His cousin stared at him. “Three more
children
.”

“My other nieces and my nephew,” Grace volunteered, still sniffling. She stepped back, leaving a chill along Sean’s body in her wake except for where one hand remained on his arm to steady him. “I’m looking after them while my sister is in hospital.”

“I see. And Sean is…helping?” Gareth’s voice remained neutral, but his expression could only be described as sardonic. Sean scowled at him, knowing full well this was payback. Gareth took every opportunity he could to remind him how wrong he’d been about Gwyn. No doubt he saw this as another chance to rub it in…especially if he imagined something going on between Sean and Grace.

“He’s been a tremendous help, yes.” Grace wadded up the used tissue. Her gaze flicked to Sean’s famous cousin, hovered, turned uncertain. She gave a small shake of her head, as if denying whatever thought had formed.

“He’s been giving me cooking lessons,” she added. “Without him, I think the kids would have mutinied.”

She glanced up at Sean, her chocolate eyes and the increased pressure of her hand on his arm signaling her intent to let go. He recalculated his balance, then accepted the crutches she reached for.

“How very kind of him,” Gareth said. This time, there was no mistaking the underlying sarcasm.

Grace shot Sean an uncertain look. Sean shot his cousin a glower. Gwyn poked her husband in the shoulder.

“Behave,” she told him. Then, without flinching, she reached out to pluck the soggy tissues from Grace’s fingers and replace them with fresh ones. “The kids can come for lunch, too. Can we send Gareth to get them, or will having a strange man turn up on the doorstep freak them out? Maybe Katie could go with him for reassurance.”

Grace used the new tissue to blow her nose a second time. “I appreciate the invitation, but I’m fine, and you came to visit with Sean, not to get involved in a drama. I’ll get Annabelle out of your hair and—”

“Nonsense,” Gwyn said. “We brought enough to feed a small army, and our crew will be delighted to meet new friends. How old are yours?”

“Josh is ten, Lilliane is eight, and Sage is five. And the little escape artist there”—Grace nodded toward Annabelle—“is two. But really—”

“Perfect. And we insist. Right, Gareth?”

“Oh, we do,” Gareth agreed, directing his words to Grace but a sideways glance at Sean. “In fact, we would like nothing more than to get to know you and your kids.”

Sean swallowed a groan. He knew that look from his cousin. The raised eyebrow, that glint in his eye. Both said Sean was in for some serious harassment later on. He would have to correct Gareth’s misinterpretation of Grace’s presence in his life…soon.

Gareth, however, had already turned his attention elsewhere. “Katie, would you like to come with me to fetch Ms.—” He stopped. “Hold on. Here we are dragging you and your kids along for lunch, and we haven’t even been properly introduced. Sean?”

Sean glanced at Grace. Would she want her name shared, or—? Grace gave the slightest of nods, indicating agreement—and trust. A small core of warmth formed in Sean’s chest. Gareth cleared his throat, and Sean wrenched his attention back to the present.

“Of course. Grace, this is my cousin Gareth Connor and his wife Gwyn. Gareth and Gwyn, my neighbor Grace Daniels.”

“Delighted to meet you, Grace Daniels.” Gareth held out his hand.

Beside him, Grace’s breath hitched a little as she accepted the handshake. She glanced at Sean uncertainly. “Gareth…?”

“Yes,” Gwyn answered the unfinished question, her voice wry. “He’s that Gareth Connor, but we try not to let it go to his head.”

“She makes me clean toilets to keep me humble.” Gareth wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist and tugged her close, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

Sean chuckled. “Still haven’t won the housekeeper argument, huh?”

“I’ve been allowed a once-a-month service,” Gareth said. “It’s a start.”

A small body pushed past Sean to the center of their group.

“I’m Nicholas,” Gwyn’s son announced, planting himself in front of Grace. He pointed at his siblings. “And that’s my big sister Katie, and that’s Maggie. She’s my twin. But we’re not identical twins. A boy and a girl can’t be identical, because a boy has a —”

“That will do, thank you, Nicholas,” Gareth interrupted. “I’m pretty sure Ms. Daniels is familiar with the male anatomy.”

Nicholas frowned. “The what?”

“How little boys are built.”

“Oh. Can I come with you and Katie to get Grace’s kids?”

“That’s Ms. Daniels to you, Nicholas,” Gwyn said.

“Grace is fine with me,” Grace offered. “That is, if it’s okay with you.”

“Or I could call her Auntie Grace,” Nicholas said. “Because that’s what she’ll be when she marries Uncle Sean, right?”

“M-marr—” Grace stuttered, turning red.

Sean inserted himself into the conversation. “Grace and I are just friends, Nicholas. We’re not getting married.”

“Why not? She’s pretty. And nice. And you look at her all lovey-dovey like Gareth does with Mommy.”

Grace made a strangled noise beside Sean. Her blush turned neon.

Looking very much like he might explode with pent-up laughter, Gareth set a hand atop Nicholas’s blond head, turned him firmly around, and said, “That’s quite enough, Nicholas.”

“What’d I do?” the boy asked in genuine perplexity. “Katie told me—”

“Enough,” Gareth repeated. “Katie told you quite enough, and now she and I are going to go and get Grace’s kids. I’d like you to stay and help entertain Annabelle. Can you do that for me?”

“But I—”

“Nicholas.”

Nicholas shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and heaved a sigh. “Oh, all right.”

Head down, he shuffled away.

“And on that note,” Gareth’s voice quivered with amusement, “I think I’ll go fetch the rest of our lunch party. Katie?”

Already dressed and waiting, the eldest of Gwyn and Gareth’s kids slipped past Sean and out the door. Gareth slanted a look of mixed exasperation and amusement at his wife.

“I keep telling you that girl is entirely too observant for her own good,” he said. “Never mind anyone else’s peace of mind. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He turned to Grace. “Josh, Lilliane, and Sage, right?”

Grace nodded. “I’ll stand on the deck so they can see me through the trees.”

“Let Sean do that,” Gwyn said. “I’ll put you to work in the kitchen.”

Sean quirked a smile at Grace’s look of inquiry. “Makes sense to me. My kitchen is smaller than yours. I’d just get in the way with these things.”

Grace followed Gwyn toward the kitchen, and Sean trailed Gareth onto the deck. He caught hold of his cousin’s sleeve before Gareth stepped out of reach. “Grace and me…it’s not what you think.”

Gareth glanced toward the two women in the cottage, and then met Sean’s scowl with a slow, delighted grin.

“Actually,” he said, “I suspect it’s not what
you
think.”

Organized chaos.

That was the only way Grace could think to describe the lunch scene. Kids seemed to be everywhere—no, kids
were
everywhere. With seven of them crammed into Sean’s small cottage, along with four adults, how could they not be? Gwyn, however, was a marvel. Raising her voice just enough to be heard over the commotion, she divided the kids into teams, putting Nicholas and Sage to work clearing the living room coffee table, having Lilliane and Maggie set places there for the kids, and asking Josh and Katie to put out dishes for the adults at the dining table.

Sean was relegated to Annabelle-care, and once instructions were issued, Gwyn’s husband Gareth—
the
Gareth Connor—stepped in to supervise completion. Grace couldn’t help but follow him with her gaze, marveling at the presence of a Hollywood mega-star at a cottage in the middle of—

“He doesn’t bite, you know.”

Grace jumped at Gwyn’s voice. She blushed. “I—uh—I—”