Sherryl Woods - Tea and Destiny

“Dinner’s at seven. We all help. House rule.”

“No problem.”

“There are others. Rules are important, especially for kids who aren’t used to having anyone around who cares enough to enforce them. I’ll explain them as the occasions arise.” She tried her best to make it sound as though the household adhered to strict military discipline.

“Whatever you say.”

She hadn’t expected him to be quite so agreeable. For some reason, it increased her irritation. She nodded curtly. “Then I’ll show you to your room.”

Before they could even gather up his suitcases, though, there was another of those bloodcurdling yelps from the far side of the house. Ann dropped the bag she was holding and took off at a run.

“Does everyone in this house do that?” Hank said, sprinting after her.

“Only when disaster strikes.” She hoped that sounded sufficiently ominous to terrify him.

“Does it strike often?” he inquired with what sounded more like curiosity than panic.

“If it makes you nervous—” she began.

“It does not make me nervous. I’m just worried it might be bad for their lungs.”

“Their lungs are very healthy, except maybe for Paul’s. He’s had a few too many colds this winter.” She paused in midstep. “I wonder why that is?”

Hank looked confused. “Why what is?”

“Why Paul was the only one to get so many colds?”

“Is this something you really need to figure out now? Shouldn’t we find out why someone screamed?”

“Right.” She turned a corner into the west wing of the house. “My guess is that the tub is overflowing. Sometimes the faucet leaks and the drain stops up. When both things happen together, well, you can imagine.”

As if to prove her point, her sneaker-clad feet hit a wet patch of floor and shot out from under her. Hank grabbed her from behind and held her upright. She enjoyed the sensation of his hands on her waist far too much. She was almost disappointed when he released her. It was not a good sign.

“Stay here,” he ordered in the tone of a man used to taking charge. That tone snapped her back to reality. She immediately bristled when he added, “I’ll take care of it.”

As if she needed him to, she thought with well-honed defensiveness. “I can handle it,” she said, stepping past him and immediately skidding again.

“Stay put before you break your neck.”

Leaving her sputtering indignantly, he waded off through water that was already soaking the hallway rugs. She glared after him. She could either make an utter ass of herself by arguing or she could do the pragmatic thing and help. Life had taught her the importance of being pragmatic.

She grabbed up the rugs and took them outside, then ran back for a mop. She was trying to stem the flow of water when Hank emerged from the bathroom with Melissa and Tommy wrapped in towels and tucked awkwardly under his arms like a couple of sacks of grain. He looked decidedly nervous. He handed them over as if he couldn’t get rid of them fast enough.

“I’m going to get a couple of tools out of the truck. You might want to find some dry clothes for these two.”

“Where’s Tracy?”

“I left her figuratively holding her finger in the dike. Other than her hysterical scream, she keeps a pretty cool head in a crisis. This could have been a lot worse.”

“She’s used to it. The tub overflows about twice a week.”

Melissa and Tommy, who’d seemed tongue-tied until now, began chattering enthusiastically about splashing through the water. Unfortunately it had become their favorite form of recreation. Ann had a suspicion they were secretly delighted every time the blasted tub overflowed. Hank listened to their excited stories and shook his head.

“Hasn’t it occurred to you to call a plumber?”

It had. She’d dismissed it as too costly. She was not about to admit that to him. “The thought has crossed my mind, but I thought I could handle it myself.”

“If you handle it any more effectively, you’ll have to replace all these wooden floors.”

His sarcasm set her teeth on edge. “Mr. Riley, may I remind you that you are a guest in this house. I do not need you to come in here and start telling me how to run my life or fix my house.”

“Any more than I need you telling me what to eat,” he retorted, matching her hands-on-hips stance. She had to admit he was better at it than she was. He was also grinning, which was not one bit like what she felt like doing.

“Okay,” she snapped back. “Eat what you darn well please.”

“I will.”

“And I’ll fix my own darn tub.”

His smile widened. Then to her amazement, he backed down so fast it left her head reeling. “As you like,” he said pleasantly. He waded off through the water, leaving her gaping after him. She was left with a throatful of angry words and no target at which to spew them.

“Where are you going?” she shouted at his retreating back.

He turned around and shot her a lazy, carefree grin. “I thought I’d have a beer. What about you? Want one? I could pour it while you’re working on the tub.”

“Go to…”

He halted her in midsentence by gesturing toward the suddenly silent, wide-eyed children standing beside her. “Tsk, tsk, Annie. No swearing in front of the children. Isn’t that what you told me?”

As he disappeared from view, she wondered exactly how traumatic it would be for the kids to watch her take a shotgun to their houseguest.

Ann was horrified. The serene, in-control woman she had always thought herself to be did not yell at the top of her lungs in anger. She did not consider using a shotgun to settle an argument. For that matter, until this afternoon, she’d never lifted a butcher knife except to slice a turkey. What was Hank Riley doing to her?

Bewildered and still fuming, she felt a tug on her skirt and looked down into Tommy’s dark, troubled eyes. She was promptly overcome by guilt on top of everything else. She knew how much violence Tommy had endured in his first three years in war-torn Afghanistan. For the two years that he’d been with her, she’d tried very hard to protect him from irrational outbursts. Even with seven very different people in the house, she’d been able to maintain an atmosphere of relative calm. Her own temper was blessedly even.

Until today, she reminded herself. In less than an hour Hank Riley had shaken her normal aplomb to its very foundations. That made her very nervous. She knew perfectly well that any man who aroused that much fury could probably arouse an equal amount of passion.

When hell freezes over, she declared, just as Tommy tugged again and asked in his softly accented voice, “Is he the plumber?”

“No, he is not the damn plumber,” she snapped irritably, then immediately felt contrite. She hugged the dark-haired boy who was watching her with eyes that were far too serious.

“Sorry, baby,” she said to Tommy as Melissa happily singsonged, “Bad word. Bad word.”

Ann considered uttering a whole string of them. Instead she patted the child on her blond head and admitted, “That’s right. That is a bad word and I don’t ever want to hear any of you using it. You two go on to your rooms and put on some dry clothes.”

“Want to swim,” Melissa protested, her face screwing up in readiness for a good cry.

“You will not swim for an entire week if you two are not in your rooms by the time I count to three,” Ann said very quietly.

They recognized the no-nonsense tone. Melissa’s pout faded at once. Tommy was already scampering down the hall, favoring the leg that had been shattered two years ago by guerrilla gunfire. Ann sighed as she watched them go. Another crisis averted. Barely.