Julianna Morris - Family of Three

“Mr. Reynolds! I didn’t hear you storm back in.”

He pulled a pen from his pocket and focused on an object in his hand. “I’m writing you a very generous check. We’ll stay in a motel while you move your belongings.” He tore the slip of paper from the book.

Without even reading the numbers he’d written, Alysia ripped the check into several small pieces. Before, she’d been annoyed with him—but not really, truly angry. Now she was livid. What nerve! Stalking forward she dropped the pieces into his breast pocket. “The answer was no, Mr. Reynolds.”

“You can’t insist on sticking to the lease.”

“I’ll stick to it, and you will, too.”

“What lease?” Grace asked calmly.

“The one your son and I both signed and had notarized,” Alysia explained with relish.

Reynolds groaned and started to sink into the nearest seat. She snatched his arm and jerked him upright. “What?”

“Don’t touch anything.”

“You mean I can’t sit down in my own house? I own every stick of furniture in the room.”

“No,” she said impatiently. “I mean, it needs to be restored. Everything in the house needs work. If you sit on that Queen Anne chair you’ll turn it into kindling.” Alysia patted the wood lovingly.

A choked laugh came from Mrs. Kirkland. “Her concern wasn’t for you, son. It was for the furniture.”

“I can see that.” He stared at Alysia as though she were an alien life-form.

Grace cleared her throat. “Do you have someplace we can sit down? Safely?” she asked.

“Sure.” Keeping a wary gaze on Jacob, Alysia led them to the kitchen. A set of oak chairs and a sturdy oak farm table rested in one corner. She motioned. “Have a seat.”

“We have a problem,” Grace said, putting her hands in her lap. “Several months ago my granddaughter chased her dog into a construction site. There was an accident and Tracy was badly injured. She’s had several operations on her back and legs and is better—physically—but emotionally she’s depressed and convinced she can’t walk. The therapist thought a change of scenery would help.”

Alysia nodded. “How awful…! Of course you and your granddaughter can stay. But the ogre leaves.”

“That does it.” Jacob slammed his chair back. “You’re unreasonable and pigheaded.”

“And you’re obnoxious and arrogant,” she insulted back.

“My daughter is waiting in the car. I promised her.”

“Good heavens. She’s out in the car? She must be worrying about what’s going on in here.” Alysia flew out the door.

Startled, mother and son stared at each other. “She’s different,” Grace observed. “Refreshing.”

Jacob ignored the note of amused approval in her voice and glanced around the kitchen. Like the parlor, it seemed brighter than he remembered, except for a mess by the sink. He went closer and crouched, checking the corroded pipes, then picked up a how-to-fix-it book lying by the toolbox. “She wasn’t lying about the plumbing, it’s a wreck,” he muttered. “Looks like she was doing her own repairs. Trying to, at least.”

“She has a lot of energy and enthusiasm,” his mother said, with a hint of calculated innocence in her expression.

He looked up. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned.

“She might be good for Tracy. Nothing else has worked.”

Jacob rose moodily. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for his child, but it was hard to imagine that a whirlwind like Alysia McKenna could be anything but trouble. Even if she did have one of the most desirable mouths he’d ever seen in his thirty-six years—especially if she did. Damnation, he needed his head examined. He did not, repeat not, find her attractive. Unfortunately, his body was rebellious to reasoning. From the moment she’d answered the door, a heavy tension had been growing in the lower region of his anatomy.

“I’ve got to get out there,” Jacob muttered. “Who knows what that woman might say. I don’t want Tracy upset.” His fears appeared groundless, however, when he found Alysia: She was sitting in the car, conversing comfortably with his daughter. Tracy looked quite intrigued with her new companion.

“Poppa, Alythia says I can stay in the tower room, but she needs to fix it up first, so we haf to stay in a motel for a few days,” she said, her faint lisp mostly noticeable when she tried to pronounce Alysia’s name.

“Sweetheart, it would be better if we went home,” he suggested gently.

Tracy’s mouth curved downward, the enthusiasm fading from her eyes. “But I don’t wanna go back. Alythia said there’s a motel in Seaside where you can hear the waves and everything. She’s awful nice. She said we can visit anytime we want.”

“Did she?” Jacob winced. The last thing he wanted to do was “visit” Miss McKenna. Yet Alysia, and her outrageous nature, might succeed in helping his daughter where therapists and doctors had failed. And since he’d already arranged his work schedule to allow an extended leave of absence, it didn’t matter where they stayed.

“She says I can sleep in a real captain’s bed and have a ship’s lantern for my light.” Tracy glanced shyly at her new friend. “Alythia knows all about ships.”

Damnation. Jacob could already guess what the next few weeks would be like—an endless stream of “Alysia saids.”

“Can we stay, Poppa? Please?” Tracy asked hopefully.

Jacob was stuck tighter than a fly in a spiderweb. He knew it. His mother who had followed him outside knew it. And, worst of all, Alysia McKenna knew it. She smiled at him, a wicked gleam of amusement in her green eyes. He sighed.

“Sure, pumpkin, it’s fine. But I need to talk to Miss McKenna alone to, um, make the arrangements. Grandma will stay with you.”

“Yes, Poppa.”

Alysia lightly ruffled the child’s hair and winked. Her first sight of the youngster had twisted her heart. The little girl’s face was white and solemn, and her anxious expression was older than any seven-year-old child’s should be. Alysia had instantly decided she could tolerate the devil for Tracy’s sake.

Besides, it would drive Jacob Reynolds crazy.

Jacob followed Alysia back to the kitchen, questioning his sanity every step of the way.

“So?” she asked, perching on the edge of the sink.

He tried to stay calm. Alysia McKenna had an unnerving way of annoying him. She sat there, swinging her legs like a kid—only no one could ever mistake her for a child, not with that body. And that was the worst part, she had a body that could seriously warp a man’s judgment.

“Er, you won’t have to pay your rent while we’re staying here,” he said.

Her head shook emphatically. “You can’t trick me that way. I’ll go on paying the rent and getting my receipts. You won’t be able to evict me for defaulting on the lease.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” Jacob denied, his pride stinging. He might try- legal means to get her out, but he wouldn’t be underhanded. “I’ll go to Portland tomorrow and have Matt Braeden draw up a financial agreement. His specialty is corporate law, but he’s good on any contracts.”

“I’m going, too.”

“Why? That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does to me.” She crossed her arms over her stomach, her generous mouth set mulishly. “I want to meet this Matt and explain the conditions myself.”

“God, you’re suspicious.”

“I wonder why?” Alysia asked, her tone sarcastic.

Jacob held up his hands in defeat. “All right. I’ll come by in the morning and we’ll go up together. Does that make you happy?” She muttered something he couldn’t understand, but he suspected it wasn’t nice. Sighing, he decided to pretend she’d agreed. “My next concern is the house. I’ll get a crew of men here as soon as possible. They’ll fix everything.”