Chapter 2
Chapter Two
“Daddy, I made you breakfast.”
Mitch forced himself to keep his smile on his face, even though he could tell from the smell it was going to be burnt eggs and burnt toast.
Burnt eggs and burnt toast he was going to eat, because damn it, Bekka was a little sweetheart.
She didn’t deserve this responsibility, helping her broke-dick daddy run a house and a ranch and raise her sisters, but still, she had it, and it didn’t seem as if she was going to give it up.
“That sounds perfect. You didn’t have to do that, but it’s very sweet.”
She came over, bare feet padding on the hardwood floor.
It sang under her weight, a happy tune in direct opposition to his mood.
She sat the paper plate down on the TV tray someone had set up for him.
Her bright red hair was in a long, messy braid, her T-shirt was spattered with grease, her shorts were too short, and want lines creased her forehead.
He remembered once upon a time when she used to laugh a lot, but it hadn’t been forever. She was so much like him it hurt.
And she worried.
It about killed him.
“How are your sisters doing?”
“They’re fine. Sarah’s in the attic reading. Rachel’s watching TV—some cartoon on Nick Jr. I fed everybody breakfast. Rachel had cereal. Sarah had toast.”
He smiled at her, hoping to get one in return. “And you, sweetheart? What did you have?”
She didn’t crack a bit. “I had coffee.”
“You are too little for coffee, Rebekkah Ann!”
She rolled her eyes like thrown dice. “Daddy, if I can make the coffee, I can drink the coffee.”
“Don’t you sass me, girl.” He winked at her, trying not to feel like a total loser.
It wasn’t like he’d been lazing about in the bed.
He’d had to take a pain pill at midnight—he allowed himself one a day. Even with the help, the pain had woken him at six, and he’d gotten up, he’d taken a shower, but then he’d had to sit for a while before getting his back brace back on. The worst part was the tired.
Well, the pain was pretty good, but the pain he could handle.
The real thing was how everything seemed to exhaust him.
And he’d been up since six. Now it was eight-thirty, and his babies were up, and his oldest girl was making breakfast and coffee.
“You need help putting your shirt on?” she asked.
He managed a tiny nod. “If you could just help me get the arms in, and then I’ll be ready to come and sit with y’all. Maybe we’ll go out and feed.”
“Somebody came and did it this morning, Daddy. They brought a casserole too for supper. She said I’m doing real good on the house. She said I could be—” Bekka stopped and shook her head.
“What, baby? You could be what?”
She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “It don’t matter, Daddy. We don’t have the money for stuff like Girl Scouts and all. You know that. I know that.”
He couldn’t even shrug because she was right. He didn’t have insurance. He wasn’t working, and everyone knew—you don’t work, you don’t get paid, and what little savings they had was getting eat up. “We’ll figure something out, baby. You know your daddy will always figure something out.”
She smiled at him, nodded, but her eyes were sad because she knew, just like he did, that it was a lie.
If he were honest with himself, and he tried to always be honest with himself, his five-year-old was the only one who wasn’t disappointed in him right now, and that was because she hadn’t learned to be. It would happen.
“Hey, Daddy, you got your whole brace on all by yourself. That’s pretty cool. You couldn’t do that yesterday. You had to get the home health nurse to come and do it.”
His eleven-year-old knew about home health nurses. “Well, the nurse is off today.”
“What about Bart? He comes sometimes.”
Bart came around a lot. The volunteer firefighter was a good man, had a deft hand with horses and an easy smile. He was a sweetheart.
She started helping him get dressed. “Yeah, what’s he doing?”
“I talked to him this morning. He’s got to shoe some horses over at Mr. Pinkerton’s place.”
Her cheeks pinked, and she shook her head. “Oh, he doesn’t like that. He says those horses are damn fools.”
They both chuckled together, and he buttoned up his shirt. “Can you bring the plate to the front room? I’ll eat at the table.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah, I think that sounds great, and then you can have some cereal or something. We’ll eat together. I don’t like eating alone.”
“No, I know, Daddy. I bet by now Rachel wants something else too, anyway.”
He got his cane and started walking, one foot after another. “Yeah, and you’ll need to call your sister down out of the rafters. I want to know what she’s reading and see how she’s doing. Put eyes on her.”
She wrinkled her nose, her bright green eyes like her momma’s had been. “Oh you know Sarah, she’s plotting the demise of the universe.”
“How on earth do you know that phrase?”
She shrugged. “I watch the news.”
“Oh, dear God, why would you want to do that?” He wasn’t sure what eleven-year-old girls did, but he didn’t think it was watch the news and drink coffee and say things like ‘the demise of the universe’.
“Daddy, you’re so silly. I gotta know stuff for when I vote.”
Vote. Jesus. “That’s sort of a long way away.”
“But I still gotta know things. We all need to know things. Just in case—”
He wanted to lie down and cry. He hated this shit.
But that wouldn’t do him any good. Lying down crying would only make a body tired, and he had plenty of that already.
He took a deep breath and then another, because damn that hurt. Then he smiled. “Go get your sisters for me, will you? And then we’ll have something together.” He needed to get some salsa or something for these eggs and he didn’t want her to see him do it.
“Okay, Daddy.” She headed off at a good clip, and he dropped his head into his hands for a minute. He wanted her to do Girl Scouts; he wanted her to be happy again, and he didn’t know how to…
The knock on the door broke off his thoughts, and he jumped, which jolted everything all the way down to his toes. Damn it, he wanted to know when he was going to be allowed to be a human being again.
Miz Halley stood there with one of her daughters or daughters-in-law or something, and a couple of gals who were too old to be children and too young to be grandbabies, her face wreathed in a smile.
She was holding something in her hands that probably tasted better than the cold eggs he was going to have to eat.
“Good morning, ma’am.”
She took the door and bustled right in. “Morning. I brought cinnamon rolls, and we came to help.”
“‘Help’?” Was she going to unbreak his back?
“Yes, I know for a fact that you haven’t been able to vacuum, and there’s no reason for those little girls to have to do it.
I run a cleaning service, so I thought, who better to practice on than you?
I brought Lori, and then I also brought a couple of my girls who are in training. This is Esmeralda, and this is Karen.”
People still named their children Karen?
“We won’t be in the way, we promise. We’re just gonna go do some laundry and change some sheets and clean you from top to bottom. It will make everything feel so much fresher.”
“Oh.” Well, shit, how could he say no to that? “But you have to tell Bekka how good she’s doing. She’s trying so hard and it will break her heart to think you didn’t approve.” No one was going to stomp on his kid.
“Now, Mitchell, you know I would not disapprove of Rebekka’s progress. She’s a wonderful girl.”
“She wants to go to Girl Scouts.” He couldn’t have stopped that from coming out of his mouth even if he wanted to. Bless her heart, his girl needed the chance to do stuff, and if anybody could figure out how to get her there, it would be Miz Halley.
“And does she now? Well, it just so happens that Lori here runs one of the local troops. Don’t you, Lori? She’s my daughter-in-law.”
Lori beamed at him, before taking the cinnamon rolls from her mother-in-law and setting them down on the table. “I just so happen to do that. I could talk to her about it if you’d like. We waive the dues for girls who have a hardship.”
His pride took a nosedive right then, but at the same time, hope twisted in his chest. Hope was a terrible emotion. It did things to a man that didn’t really need to be done to him.
Regardless, even if he had to then turn around and disappoint somebody, he was going to say yes because damn it his girl needed to be a kid for a while.
“That’s super kind, and I think that would probably be really helpful.”
“Something smells good, Daddy.” Sarah came wandering into the room with her book in her hand, dressed in a long black dress covered in streaks of dust, her dark hair straight and wet with sweat.
“Miz Halley brought some cinnamon rolls for us to share for some extra breakfast.” Before he could even move, someone had whisked the plate of eggs and toast off the table and into the trash. He hoped they buried it under something, so his baby girl didn’t see it and think that he had done it.
“Yum.” She beamed at Miz Halley. “I love cinnamon rolls.”
“Most little girls do,” Miz Halley said with a broad wink.
“Here we are, Daddy.” Bekka walked into the room with Rachel, who immediately squealed and went to peer at the cinnamon rolls.
“Thanks baby girl. Miz Halley brought cinnamon rolls.”
Rebekka Ann looked less sure about all this than the other two. “They smell good.”
“I’m glad you think so, honey. I’m testing out a new recipe, and I need to make sure that it’s just right. You three are going to be my testers.”
Bekka narrowed her eyes at Miz Halley. “Not my daddy?”
“Men are not good taste-testers; they think everything is good. Women are far better at that sort of thing.” Lord, that lady could play to her audience.
“And why did you bring everyone else?” Bekka was catching on, and she didn’t look pleased.
“Because we thought you could use a break, sweetie. It’s hard to take care of a house all by yourself, no matter who you are. And I happened to be in the neighborhood with a crew of girls who needed some experience, so we thought we’d stop by.”
Lori smiled at Bekka, taking more of a motherly tack. “Your daddy says you like the idea of being in Girl Scouts.”
Pure longing shone in Bekka’s eyes for a moment, but she quickly tamped it down and put her little hands on her hips. At eleven, she was still such a girl trying to be an adult. “I like the idea, but I’m not sure I have time.”
“Well, I’m one of the leaders of the troop here in town, and I’d like to talk to you about it when you have a moment. Right now, you probably need to eat breakfast with your daddy. He ate up your eggs and toast, but a man who is healing up like he does needs sugar, don’t you think?”
Rebekka looked at him uncertainly, and he held out his hand. “I would love for you to sit and have a cinnamon roll with me, baby girl.”
After another second of searching his gaze, she took his hand and smiled. “I’ll get the plates, Daddy. Sarah, can you get the baby in her chair?”
“I am not a baby.” At five, Rachel was determined not to be a little-little girl anymore, but she still needed a booster seat in her chair. She was so short and skinny.
“Oh very well.” Bekka made a face at Rachel. “Sarah, could you help our youngest sister into her chair?”
Sarah giggled, and Rachel nodded her head like, “Yes, that’s that.”
“What are you reading, Sarah? Is it something fun?”
Mitch didn’t wince because it would’ve been obvious, but he knew that Sarah’s idea of fun and Lori’s idea of fun were going to be vastly different.
“I’m reading The Horrible Bag of Terrible Things. It’s about an evil bag that kidnaps this little boy’s older sister and takes her to a scary universe. It’s really good.” She gave her sister a wicked grin. “I’m taking notes.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Bekka,” he warned gently. Teasing her sisters was one thing, but sassing was another.
“Sorry, Daddy. I’m not going to get abducted by a bag. Let’s taste cinnamon rolls.”
“Yes, and afterward we can all talk about Girl Scouts if we want,” Lori added.
Bekka nodded, Rachel cheered, and Sarah just rolled her eyes.
As for him, he got a cinnamon roll and started eating it while he tried to figure out how the hell he was going to make this whole thing work.