Diana Palmer - Emmett

Tears stung her eyes as she searched again, her voice sounding frantic as she called her pet’s name with increasing urgency.

Amy got up from the carpet and followed her, frowning. “Can’t you find your cat?”

“No,” Melody said, her voice raspy. She brushed at a tear on her face.

“Oh, Melody, don’t cry!” Amy said. She hugged her. “It will be all right! We’ll find him! Polk, Guy,” she called sharply. “Come on. Help us hunt for Melody’s cat! She can’t find him anywhere!”

“Sure,” Polk said. “We’ll help.”

They scoured the apartment. Guy looked, too, but his cheeks were flushed and he wouldn’t meet Melody’s eyes.

In desperation, Melody went to the two apartments nearby to ask her neighbors if they’d seen her cat, but no one had noticed him. There was an elevator and a staircase, but there was a door that led to the stairwell and surely it would be closed…

All the same, she checked, and was disturbed to find that the stairwell door was propped open while workmen carried materials to an apartment down the hall that was being renovated.

Leaving the children in the apartment, she rushed down the steps looking for Alistair. She called and called, but there was no answer, and he was nowhere to be found.

Defeated, Melody went back to the apartment. Her expression was so morose that the children knew without asking that she hadn’t found the cat.

“I’m sorry,” Amy said. “I guess you love him a lot, huh?”

“He’s all I have,” Melody said without looking up. The pain in her voice was almost tangible. “All I… had.”

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.”