Substitute Father. Bonnie Winn K.

and Hannah collected several bowls, all mismatched, yet somehow perfect for popcorn.

      “I’ll grab the popper,” Luke was saying. “Kealey, do you want to help Brian melt the butter?”

      She blinked, realizing again that Luke had a way of including everyone. “Sure.”

      And within a few moments they located a pan and the butter.

      “You turn the heat real low,” Brian told her seriously.

      “That’s right. How’d you know?”

      He shrugged, a forlorn gesture. “I used to help my mom when she cooked stuff.”

      Kealey felt his loneliness as deeply as she had once felt her own. As the oldest, Brian’s loss was keener, more difficult—because he hadn’t allowed himself to be a child, to simply grieve. Instead he continued watching over his siblings, taking on the responsibility of being head of the family. She made a mental note to discuss his case with her supervisor, to see if a therapist might be in order.

      Soon, kernels of corn began bursting into white clouds in the popper, each mini explosion scenting the air. And Luke brewed hot cocoa as well.

      However, Kealey was surprised when he headed back toward the living room with the refreshments. “Isn’t this kind of messy?” she asked, knowing little ones tended to scatter and spill.

      “My entire house is for living,” he replied with a shrug. “Spills and messes included.”

      Within a few minutes, the kids were sprawled out on the thick rug that anchored the wide-planked wooden floor. They dug into the overflowing bowls of popcorn and sipped cocoa from steaming stone-ware mugs.

      Kealey perched stiffly on the couch, watching.

      Luke placed a mug in her hands, then dropped down on the floor beside her, managing to share the rug with the children, yet not making Kealey feel isolated from the cozy group.

      However, his proximity made her very aware of his tall, strong frame, the slant of his handsome profile. Kealey had been highly aware of his rugged good looks when they’d first met. Despite that, she was uncomfortable with someone so open, so…

      So much what she wanted to be but wasn’t.

      Kealey had known from the moment Rachel had insisted on setting up the meeting that it wouldn’t work. But Rachel was one of her rare friends and it had been impossible to refuse.

      Luke turned just then, scattering her thoughts. “How’s the cocoa?”

      Realizing she hadn’t yet tasted it, she sipped some, surprised at the rich taste. “It’s better than I expected,” she admitted.

      “It was one of my grandmother’s specials—all of us learned how to make it. And homemade has its advantages.”

      Looking down into his warm, unshifting eyes she had to agree. “I’m sure it does.”

      Hannah rose to her knees, balancing one of the bowls of popcorn. “Do you want some?” Her small fingers, slippery with butter, were having trouble hanging on to the large bowl.

      As Kealey could have predicted, the bowl slid from Hannah’s hands, tumbling on to the rug, scattering popcorn in every direction.

      “Uh-oh!” Hannah exclaimed, her eyes widening. She looked at Luke as though expecting a rebuke.

      But his calm demeanor didn’t change. “Won’t take a minute to clean up. I’ll help.” And he did, his big hands scooping up the popcorn far more rapidly than Hannah’s tiny hands could do on their own.

      Kealey wondered if his unflappable reaction was for her benefit. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d seen a prospective foster parent fake a performance.

      Luke rose when all the spilled popcorn had been picked up. “Come on, Hannah. We’d better wash those hands and get a fresh bowl. This time we won’t fill it quite so full.”

      She scampered behind him toward the kitchen.

      When Luke and Hannah disappeared from her line of vision, Kealey turned, noticing that the two boys were staring at her.

      She smiled, directing her words to both boys. “Do you like staying here with Luke?”

      Brian immediately looked wary. “It’s okay.”

      Realizing they wouldn’t respond to the usual questions, she changed tactics. “Did you have any pets at home?”

      Surprised, Brian stared for a moment. “We had a hamster, but he died. We were gonna get a dog when we moved to a house.”

      “You can’t have dogs in an apartment,” Troy explained.

      “I know. They need yards,” Kealey replied. “That’s why I don’t have a dog.”

      Brian drew his brows together. “Really?”

      “That, and I live alone and work long hours. That wouldn’t be fair to a dog.”

      “That’s what Mama said,” Troy told her.

      Kealey’s heart ached for these children who had so clearly loved their mother. “Then she must have been a very wise woman.”

      “She was the best,” Brian replied fiercely.

      “I’m sure she was,” Kealey said, knowing it probably was true. Also knowing how vulnerable the children were without a mother’s protection.

      “We like Luke’s dogs,” Troy told her, dividing his attention between her and the golden retriever. “Bentley got left without a home just like us.”

      “He did?”

      “Somebody dumped him out in a field when he was little,” Brian explained. “And he was real sick ’cause he hadn’t had nothing to eat.”

      Just like these children, Kealey realized with a pang.

      “But he’s all better now,” Troy told her. “Except for one leg that got broke when he got hit by a car.”

      “Luke did surgery on him,” Brian offered. “He’s okay except he can’t run a long ways.”

      “Bentley probably likes being close to home anyway,” Kealey responded, touched by their story—and even more by the image of a strong Luke rescuing a forgotten puppy.

      “That’s how Luke got Spencer and Kate, too,” Troy told her, referring to the cats. “They didn’t have a home neither.”

      “And Miles and Ginger,” Brian added.

      So many orphans under one roof, Kealey realized. All except Luke himself. Which was why she had run so fast the first time they’d met.

      “Fresh bowl of popcorn,” Luke announced as he returned to the room, with Hannah close behind him. “Did I miss anything?”

      Kealey shook her head, unwilling to talk about what she and the children had just shared. Luke’s kindness had affected her too much and she didn’t want him to know it. Meeting Luke’s far too beguiling gaze, she realized she couldn’t make that mistake again.

      LUKE SWUNG AROUND the rink, gaining speed on his in-line skates as he neared the turn. Brian, Troy and Hannah had eagerly jumped on his idea to go skating. It was something they’d done before losing their mother. And Luke wanted to inject as much normality as possible into their lives.

      And he had to admit that he loved skating as well. He often took to the streets on his skates, enjoying the workout, the speed and the exhilaration. But he thought the controlled environment at the rink was safer for the children. No rough spots to cross or potholes to avoid.

      Since it was Saturday afternoon, the rink was crowded. Luckily his last appointment had been just after noon. Wayne was still at the clinic, closing up. His assistant had volunteered, knowing the kids needed the excursion. A single man, Wayne was devoted to the animals