Make-Believe Mum. Elaine Grant

don’t want to talk to her,” Zach said.

      “Me, neither,” echoed Tyler.

      “Listen, guys,” Jon said. “If you don’t talk to her, she might think something really is wrong and we don’t want that. Don’t let her upset you. I’m not going to allow anybody to separate us.”

      “But, Daddy,” Michele ventured, “I heard her tell you she can take us away from you and make us live somewhere else if we don’t have a mother. Is that true?”

      Jon tried never to deceive his children. In fact, being caught up in the charade about marrying Kaycee pricked at him. He should have shot that down when Michele started it—but the look on the kids’ faces, that fear deep in their eyes…. At that moment, he’d have done anything to protect them.

      Quietly, he said, “Yes, it’s true. She has the authority to do that if she decides you would be better off somewhere else.”

      “Where would she take us, Daddy?” Wendy sobbed.

      “Maybe to a place like a hotel where other kids would be. Or maybe to stay with nice people in their homes until I could come get you. It wouldn’t be for long,” Jon said, careful to keep his own anxiety out of his voice. “But it’s not going to happen, okay? We’re going to convince her that we don’t need her anymore and she’ll go away.”

      “I wish Mommy hadn’t died,” Wendy whispered.

      “So do I, darling,” Jon said, lightly kissing the top of her head. He had never seen a paler bunch of kids and his heart hurt to see his children so frightened. “I know this scares all of you, but we can’t run from everything that scares us. We have to face our problems. We’ll make it though and we’ll be a stronger family in the end.” He wiped the tears from Wendy’s cheeks and kissed her forehead.

      “But, Daddy, Dr. Kaycee said she’d be our mom. She said so,” Michele said, tugging at his sleeve. “Just get her to do it.”

      “No, we tricked her into saying that. I don’t want you to tell anybody she’s going to be your mother. Not the social worker or your teacher or your friends. Do you all understand that? Until Dr. Kaycee decides for herself what she wants to do, you’re not to mention her name. If the social worker asks, tell her she has to talk to me about grown-up things. Everybody promise me you’ll do what I say.”

      All around heads nodded, although Michele’s agreement was reluctant.

      “I think we need to clean up the house, too,” Rachel suggested, “so the social worker knows we can take care of ourselves.”

      “That’s a good idea,” Jon agreed. “From now on, we pick up our own things, every one of us. Bring dirty clothes to the laundry room. Put the toys away when you finish playing. Don’t leave wet towels on the floor in the bathrooms. Agreed?”

      The kids bobbed their heads in unison.

      “Good. Now who wants ice cream?”

      Six hands shot up amid a chorus of “Me! Me! Me!” Jon set Wendy down and pulled the last two ice-cream containers from the freezer while Sam put bowls on the table. Rachel pulled out the drawer for spoons, but suddenly turned to Jon and threw her arms around his waist.

      “It’ll be all right, Daddy. I love you.”

      “Me, too!” Zach cried, flinging his arms around Jon’s legs.

      Tyler did the same. “Me, three!”

      Wendy, Michele and Sam came running and Jon sank to the kitchen floor amid a flurry of arms, legs and wet little mouths kissing his face. Which was good because that way they didn’t notice the tears in his eyes as he gathered them close and sent a silent prayer heavenward to help him keep his family together.

      CHAPTER THREE

      SUNDAY DAWNED like fireworks when the sun crested the mountaintops. Brilliant white rays exploded across the sky, igniting streaks of scarlet in the scattered clouds. Jon poured the last of the morning’s feed into the trough then stood in reverent appreciation of nature’s beauty.

      His soul thrived in these mountains, where he and his family had worked the land for three generations. This was his heritage, his children’s heritage—the wisdom gained by witnessing the cycle of life on the ranch, the respect instilled by experiencing firsthand the awesome power of God and nature. How dare a bitter old man threaten to steal that from them?

      Under his breath, Jon swore for the thousandth time that he would not let that happen. But he couldn’t quell the gnawing worry in the pit of his stomach. Not since talking to his lawyer, Frank Thompson. Hal could do serious damage without ever proving a thing, just by convincing the social worker or local law enforcement Jon might have done something wrong.

      “Daddy,” Michele called, running toward him, so pretty in her simple blue dress, her tawny, beribboned hair streaming out behind her. “Rachel said to tell you we’re all finished with our chores and dressed for Sunday school.”

      The young girl leapt toward him and he caught her in midair. “Let’s go, then.” He swung her in circles until she giggled hysterically.

      Michele wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as he carried her toward the house. “Daddy, you look worried this morning. Because of that social worker?”

      Jon smiled. “Everything is going to be all right. I’ll see to it.” He hoped he was right. Knowing his in-laws’ controlling mentality, he couldn’t afford a misstep. He intended to call Mrs. Hawthorn to try to mend his fences with her, hopefully get her off his back, but he needed to have a full-time housekeeper in place before then.

      “Hey, Jon,” Clint called, catching up to them. “Anything in particular you need me to do today other than what we’ve already scheduled?”

      “Check on that C-section heifer and calf. They looked good this morning, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

      “Gotcha. Thought I’d get Rory and Cal to keep an eye out for any calving problems among the herd so I can spend some time with Claire later this afternoon, if that’s okay.”

      “Sounds like a plan. I’ll be around this afternoon.”

      Clint chucked Michele under the chin. “You’re off to church mighty early. You been extra bad?”

      “Has she ever,” Jon said, giving the girl a mock frown.

      “What’d you do?” Clint asked her.

      “I’m not supposed to say,” she said, looking up at Jon through her lashes.

      “She’s trying to get me married off again,” Jon said. Clint was like family and would need to know what was going on with the social worker, but Jon was proud of Michele for not mentioning Kaycee.

      “If Daddy will just cooperate,” Michele said with a lopsided smile.

      “Wha…?” Clint stopped, agape.

      Jon laughed and kept walking.

      “You’re kidding me, right?”

      Jon looked around at his foreman in amusement. “Not if Mish has her way. I’ll fill you in later. Right now we’re off to breakfast with my pretend fiancée.”

      A few minutes later the family piled into the four-wheel-drive Suburban that the kids had dubbed “Mom’s Limo” and headed for town. During the half-hour drive into Little Lobo, Jon avoided glancing toward the passenger seat. Alison’s seat. Now occupied by Rachel, tall and willowy for her age, who looked more like her mother than any of the girls. Right now, he didn’t want to imagine Alison so close, yet not there at all.

      The last time he saw her alive she’d been sitting beside him in his truck, laughing about some silly thing the twins had done. Out of the corner of his eye Jon had caught a glimpse of her beautiful face turned toward him and in that same instant saw the elk bound out of nowhere…directly