Substitute Father. Bonnie Winn K.

incredibly inviting. Perhaps it was all the bright sunshine or the spacious dimensions. She glanced away from Luke’s searching gaze. She supposed it might have something to do with the house’s owner.

      Hearing the other two children approaching, she glanced toward the doorway. Brian held his younger sister’s hand. Even though it was apparent he took a protective role in regard to his younger siblings, she could see the fear disguised beneath a cultivated layer of bravado. And she was an expert at recognizing that particular fear.

      “Hello,” she greeted them. “Do you remember me from last night?”

      Brian nodded warily. “Yeah.”

      “I’m here to see how you’re doing.”

      Both children stared at her suspiciously. Then Luke turned away from the stove, his attention focused on her as well.

      “I’m with the Department of Social Services,” she explained.

      Dead silence greeted her words. The only betraying action was the flexing of Brian’s hand as he clutched Hannah’s more firmly.

      Luke filled the gap. “We’re having scrambled eggs, guys. Everybody take a seat and we’ll start with some milk.”

      Although Brian entered the room, his distrustful gaze remained on Kealey. Casually she glanced at the half glass Dutch door at the rear of the kitchen, wondering if the boy was calculating an escape plan. Also wondering how she was going to connect with this one.

      “Brian, you take charge of the toast,” Luke told him. “Bread and butter’s on the counter. I’ve made six pieces, we’ll need four more. Hannah, see if you can find some jelly in the fridge.”

      Reluctantly the children parted to obey him. Troy was distributing plates and silverware rather unevenly on the table. As he did, Luke handed him one more plate, then placed a platter of bacon in the center of the table, not commenting on the unorthodox place settings. She made a mental note, knowing most adults automatically corrected such oversights, unconsciously chipping away at the child’s self-esteem.

      Absently counting the plates, she was surprised to see five. “Are you expecting company?”

      “I wasn’t exactly expecting you,” Luke replied.

      “Oh, but I’m not here to eat breakfast.”

      “You’re here. It’s breakfast time. Don’t fight the inevitable.”

      She curled her fingers a bit more tightly around the mug as her discomfort rose. Then she glanced at the children who had stopped what they were doing to stare at her.

      Realizing they needed reassurance, she smiled warmly at them. “I usually only have coffee. This will be a treat.”

      Luke met her gaze briefly, then turned his attention back to the eggs, spooning the fluffy yellow mounds into a bowl. A moment later he glanced up at Brian. “That toast coming along okay?”

      Brian carefully buttered one last piece. “Uh-huh.”

      “Then let’s eat.”

      Kealey watched their interaction closely. Even for a single night’s stay she had to be certain what type of home the children were in.

      It didn’t take long for the kids to assemble at the table. They ate rapidly as though afraid that the food might disappear before they finished. With equal speed they reached for seconds, filling their plates. Knowing their mother had been dead for a while, it stood to reason that the children had gone hungry, that they were afraid of doing so again. Still, Kealey couldn’t prevent her distressed reaction.

      But Luke didn’t seem perturbed by their behavior. His even, accepting manner kept the atmosphere light. She wondered if he fully appreciated the desperateness of their situation.

      When the children were finally sated, Luke instructed them in clearing the table and helping with the dishes. She had to admit that he was pretty good at handling the kids.

      Brian held up the freshly washed frying pan. “Where does this go?”

      Luke pointed to a rack on one wall. “Anywhere you can find an empty hook.”

      Kealey stacked the dried dishes in a cabinet that was too high for Hannah to reach. Somehow, Luke had managed to include all of them in the task.

      He surveyed the kitchen. “Okay, great job, guys. Now, upstairs, brush your teeth.”

      The children obeyed without protest.

      Once they were alone in the room, Kealey focused again on her morning’s mission. “When I spoke with Rachel yesterday, she mentioned your keeping the children for a few days. However, there’s no need for you to do so. We have adequate foster homes already in the system.”

      “They’re comfortable here,” Luke responded easily. “And as of last night I have beds, clothes, toothbrushes…everything they need. And it won’t be for long. You should be able to locate some relatives soon.”

      But she didn’t return his nonchalance. “You don’t seem to understand that we have procedures to follow. They’re not stray puppies.”

      Something in his eyes hardened. “I’m not suggesting they are. But I talked to Rachel, too. And I’ve put in an official request to keep the children until their relatives are located.”

      Kealey felt some of her control evaporating. It wasn’t a feeling she welcomed. “I don’t have that request in my file.”

      “I filled out the paperwork last night and Rachel took it with her. She said she’d give it to you this morning.”

      “I came here before going into the office.”

      He shrugged. “That explains it. I’m sure Rachel will give you the paperwork when she sees you.”

      Kealey firmed her shoulders. “I hate to be obstinate, but you seem to be forgetting that I’m the caseworker and it’s up to me to decide where it’s best to place the children. And I’m not convinced that’s with you. You’re a single man. And I believe children are best served in a two-parent family.”

      Luke met her eyes, his own gaze probing. “Is this because of our disastrous date?”

      Nonplussed, she stared back at him. “Of—of course not!”

      “I’d hate to think that you’d take out your resentment on innocent children.”

      “Resentment?” Kealey sputtered. “What makes you think I gave our date a second thought?”

      “Then why uproot the kids? They’ve lost their mother, been terrified they would be separated. Now they’ve finally slept safely in real beds without their stomachs growling in hunger. I may not have the perfect two-parent home, but it’s a decent one. And I think the kids will be better off with someone they’ve begun to trust. More important, I can guarantee they won’t be split up. Can you?”

      Kealey wanted to insist that she could do just that. But she couldn’t. “If I let them stay, and that’s a big if, I’ll need certain assurances.” His eyes again met hers and she fought the squiggle of unease his gaze caused.

      “Sounds reasonable.”

      “I want to be certain they won’t be left alone while you’re at work.”

      “Since my clinic’s in the house that won’t be a problem.”

      Kealey frowned. “I don’t believe you can operate on animals and chase kids at the same time.”

      He grinned, that appealing smile she hadn’t forgotten. “True. But they’ll be at school a good part of the day, and I have a full-time assistant. Between us, we can keep the kids in line.”

      “And if you can’t?”

      “If there’s a conflict, I can call in the reinforcements. You forget, I’ve got more relatives than Campbell’s has soups.”