Substitute Father. Bonnie Winn K.

snake.”

      The kids faces reflected varying shades of fascination.

      “Snakes are icky,” Hannah announced. But the boys didn’t look as though they agreed.

      Relieved to hear her speak without crying, Luke sent his assistant a look of gratitude. “Tell you what, guys. If we can talk Wayne into giving you the grand tour, I’ll start some supper.”

      “Be my pleasure,” Wayne told them. “Course I might need a volunteer or two to help with the ornery animals.”

      Their eyes grew even rounder as they trailed Wayne into the clinic.

      Not bothering with the groceries, Luke strode quickly into the kitchen. In moments he was dialing the phone. His sister, Rachel, a social worker for the county, answered her office phone on the first ring.

      Quickly he filled her in on the situation.

      “Do you want me to send someone to pick them up?” she asked, concern filling her voice.

      He paused. “Actually, Rach, I want to keep them here until you can find their relatives. That shouldn’t take too long. I was hoping you could get me some sort of temporary permission.”

      “Why you?”

      “They’ve been through so much already. They’re scared to death of being separated. They were tired, hungry. And if you could see their faces…”

      Rachel’s own compassion was felt in the sigh that reverberated over the phone line. “Enough said. I’ll see what I can do.”

      “Thanks, Rach. Oh, do I need to call the police, let them know the kids are here?”

      “No, I’ll take care of that. If they’re telling the truth, there’ll be a record of the mother’s death.”

      “Why would kids lie about a thing like that?”

      “You forget, I’ve seen more kids in trouble than you have.”

      “Granted. But I don’t think these kids had any trouble until their mother passed away.”

      “Maybe not.” She hesitated. “Luke, you’ve been bringing home strays, animals and people, since pre-school. Don’t get too attached. This won’t be more than a temporary solution.”

      “Yeah, I know. And that’s all I want. You’re bound to turn up some relatives soon. But until then, someone needs to give them a break. Besides, I have a sister in Social Services who can pull a few strings.”

      “Actually, I think that’s called a conflict of interest. I can probably get you the temporary permission, but I can also guarantee that if anything more is involved, my supervisor will assign the case to someone else faster than the ink can dry.”

      “Do what you can, sis.”

      “Don’t I always?” Rachel questioned wryly. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

      After thanking her, Luke retrieved the groceries from the front hall and started cooking. Having been raised with seven brothers and sisters, he’d learned early on how to cook huge meals. While he chopped and diced, Luke called his oldest sister, Mary. Hearing about the orphans’ plight, she offered to bring pajamas and clothes, which was what he had been hoping she’d do. Since she had five children of her own, she had plenty of hand-me-downs.

      Soon the aromas coaxed the children back from the clinic to the kitchen. Luke’s dogs, Bentley, a golden retriever, Miles, a border collie mix, and Ginger, an undefinable mix, followed them. His cats, Spencer and Kate, made separate appearances.

      It was clear from the children’s ravenous appetites that they’d missed many meals. They’d barely finished eating when his sister Mary and her oldest daughter rang the bell. Apparently, Mary had called his other sister, Ruth, who came by shortly afterward with three of her children.

      There was something about a big family that defied quiet.

      In typical Duncan fashion, the house vibrated with noise as they opened boxes filled with clothes, blankets, pillows and toys. Not much later, his brother, Peter, arrived in his pickup truck. It was loaded with a set of bunkbeds his children had outgrown along with a twin bed he’d collected from another brother, Matt, who had ridden along to help unload and set up the beds.

      The children looked overwhelmed by all the people and attention. Just then the doorbell rang again. It was Rachel, his younger and favorite sister.

      She shook her head as they entered the living room, gazing at the confusion. “How’d they find out about the kids?”

      “My big mouth,” he admitted. “I was just hoping for pajamas and a change of clothes.”

      Rachel didn’t restrain her chuckle. “You know what they’re like. Didn’t you tell them this was just for a few days?”

      “Yep. I don’t think anyone was listening, though.” His gaze sharpened. “I hope you’re not here in person because you have bad news.”

      She screwed her face in a noncommittal expression.

      “Rachel?”

      “It’s not exactly bad.”

      The doorbell rang yet again.

      Luke swore briefly beneath his breath. “What now? Or should I say who now?”

      “Luke—” Rachel began.

      “In a minute. I’ll get rid of whoever that is and be right back.”

      Luke yanked open the door, but his greeting was never uttered.

      Kealey Fitzpatrick stood on his front porch, looking as stiff and uncomfortable as she had on their disastrous blind date months earlier. But what was she doing here?

      Then it struck him. He turned to stare at Rachel, who had trailed him to the door.

      “I tried to explain,” Rachel began.

      “Explain?” he growled.

      “I told you the case would probably be assigned to someone else.”

      Someone else, yes. Kealey Fitzpatrick, no. The woman had the warmth and personality of tumbled marble. Still, he kept his voice low as he turned back to Rachel, so that only his sister could hear. “If this is some sort of convoluted way of trying to fix me up with her again—”

      “No, Luke. It was just the luck of the draw. I didn’t have any control over who my supervisor chose.”

      He groaned, then turned back to Kealey, reluctantly opening the door wider. “Come in.”

      She hesitated, but only for a moment. “I will need to speak to the children.” Glancing past Luke, Kealey met Rachel’s eyes in silent acknowledgment.

      “They’re in the living room.” Luke closed the door, then led her inside. He hoped she wouldn’t snatch them away tonight, eager to put them in some cold institution.

      Kealey paused as they stepped across the threshold. It seemed noise and movement came from every square inch of the room. Mary and Ruth didn’t skip a beat, continuing to outfit the kids with clothes and accessories. It was something Luke was accustomed to.

      But Kealey seemed to pale at all the chaos. She turned to Luke. “Which ones are they?”

      Since Brian, Hannah and Troy were surrounded by his nieces and nephews, Luke could understand Kealey’s confusion. “I’ll introduce you.”

      He did, and the noise subsided considerably.

      Before the children could grow fearful of another stranger, Kealey smiled gently at them. “Hi, I’m Kealey.”

      Three small heads bobbed up and down cautiously.

      Her smile, warm and reassuring, surfaced and Luke stared at her in amazement. He hadn’t guessed she possessed any warmth. As quickly, it occurred to