The Outsider Series: The Complete Omnibus Collection

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Katy became cranky and wanted up. Trevor whined a “whee, whee” sound, sure to escalate into a full-blown meltdown, so Mary and Emily hustled back to the house. Time had slipped away. Although Mary had provided Emily with loads of information, it had thrown her schedule off. Not that she’d hammered one down yet, but she had a pretty good outline and the only saving grace was that the men had gone to town for lunch.

Now as the kitchen clock mounted on the wall by the table ticked closer to four, she scrambled; grateful the kids were occupied in front of the big screen TV again with their baby blankets, watching Treehouse, a children’s television station.

Emily grabbed two pounds of butcher-wrapped hamburger from one of the large freezers by the back porch and started browning it in a large frying pan. Pulling out the macaroni and canned tomatoes, she hurried to set the table, waiting until the meat was cooked enough to add the other ingredients. Just as she assembled the entire casserole, she heard footsteps, the men’s deep voices laughing and joking, and someone stomped in the back door. She stole a glance over her shoulder as Brad entered the kitchen, alone. He stopped cold and quirked his lips in a teasing way she’d never seen before. Emily glanced down to see what he found so amusing and she nearly tripped over the big black garbage bag propped up beside the fridge. While cooking dinner, cleaning out the fridge had somehow found its way onto her list.

“Wow, you wasted no time putting some order into this well-neglected kitchen.”

Emily warmed. She was so unsure of her footing around Brad. He could turn on a dime. She needed to distract herself, so she turned back to the stove. But he didn’t take the hint; instead, she could feel his heat as he came up behind her. Flustered, she wondered if she’d overstepped. “I cleaned out your fridge, I’m not sure how long some of the stuff was in there but I don’t think it’s edible. And if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather just toss it than take a chance.” She found the nerve to turn around and face him, and willed her shaking hand holding the wooden spoon to stop.

With a twinkle in his eye, he lifted the spoon she was holding and set it down beside the stove. “For safety, just in case you decide to knock me over the head for the mess I left you.”

Huh, who the heck was this guy?

“Anyway, you’re probably right. Mac’s been helping out in here; afraid we’re not much good in the kitchen. The guys quite often eat here too. Did I mention that?”

“You did. I’m not sure if I made enough tonight. How much do they eat?” Her palms were sweating.

“Relax, they’re not coming tonight; they’re headed into town as we speak.”

Emily was relieved, at least for that reprieve, now maybe there’d be leftovers for lunch. “Um, I wanted to talk to you about something that happened today at the store.”

“Did I give you enough money?” He frowned.

“Yes, yes you did. It’s not that.” Oh, boy, how was she going to tell him? “When…” A thunk, as if something heavy had hit the floor, had Brad rushing into the living room; Emily right behind him.

The potted spider plant that was on an entry table lay on its side with dirt spilling out. Trevor was barefoot, dancing in the soil, with a fistful of dirt he was about to shove in his mouth. Brad yanked his hand down and snatched him up. “Oh, you little shit.” Emily covered her mouth, afraid of Brad’s rising temper. But he shook his head and firmed his lips as he turned to Emily.

“Sorry, it slipped. Not a good spot for the plant Emily, you’ve got a two-year-old; I’m surprised you put it so low.”

Now this was her fault? Oh, no, I don’t think so. She crossed her arms and took a step forward. “I didn’t put it there. And Katy would never pull a plant off the table. It’s been a really busy day; I haven’t had time to go through, and childproof, this house for whatever Trevor can grab and pull down.”

Brad’s cheeks tinted a subtle pink. She’d hit a nerve. “Okay, I’m sorry,” he offered. “I’ll get him cleaned up. Do you want to sweep this up?”

“I’ll clean up. Then dinner’s ready.” She turned her back. Proud she’d said what she did. By the time she tidied up, Brad had Trevor cleaned, changed and deposited back in the living room beside his toy box, where Katy was playing with her baby dolls.

“Mmm, smells good.” Brad said as he strode to the backdoor, where a rung of a half dozen coat hooks lined the whitewashed wall; he draped his tan barn coat over one.

Emily put dinner on the table. When she glanced up, Brad was staring at her with such softness; it shot off a fizz of bubbles in her tummy much like a can of soda pop when you first c***k it open. He cleared his throat and c****d his head toward the overstuffed black garbage bag. Brad wrinkled his nose as he sidled up to the offensive bag. “I better take it out. Come on, I’ll show you where we keep the garbage out back.”

Brad tied the two ends of the black garbage bag and hefted it, as if it weighed nothing more than a feather. Emily followed to the back porch, but they both stopped in the doorway of the living room. Trevor was stuck in his own world; barefoot and pants-less again, driving his toy cars over a cloth fringe on the coffee table, patting it down then repeating the exact same pattern.

“Oh, look at that, he’s playing cars with your Katy.” Emily didn’t look up at Brad; what she saw was Katy playing with her Dolly, cuddling her blanket and rubbing her eyes. They were sharing space. When she looked up at Brad, he grinned in a way Emily wasn’t so sure was joy.

“We better hurry, we’re entering the witching hour and something else could land on the floor.”

The kitchen clock ticked five. Emily hurried behind Brad to the back porch, where Brad dropped the bag in one of the large black cans, leaning against the side of the house. “Make sure you secure the top down so bears and raccoons can’t get in it. That is a mess I don’t want to be cleaning up in the morning.”

He was abrupt. The change from laughter, to serious, all business, was so fast that Emily felt the foolish, warm, good-all-over glow, he’d put there earlier wiped away. “I will.”

He gestured to the door, “Dinner ready?”

“Let me get the kids and we can eat.”

They walked back in to whining, jumping and the patter of little feet running circles on the hardwood floor.

“The witching hour, huh?” His lips twitched as he glanced down at Emily. “I’ll get washed up.”

The most unpredictable man sauntered upstairs; how different a man he was from Bob. A nuisance really, Bob was on Gina’s color-coded list, to reorganize Emily’s life, of things to handle. Emily sighed. “Katy, Trevor, dinner.”