Accidental Dad. Lois Richer

grief, weariness and sadness in Sam’s silent appeal. Poor guy was swamped with trying to keep the world going for everyone, including her. Kelly had to act. She scooped Sadie into her arms, set her on the bed then sat down beside her.

      “Hush now. I want to ask you something, Sadie.”

      “’Kay,” was the hiccupped response.

      “Do you know Uncle Sam very well?” Kelly asked.

      “O’ course. He’s Daddy’s brother.” Sadie frowned at the obviousness of that, but at least she’d stopped crying, and now her blue eyes widened with curiosity.

      “Yes, but is Uncle Sam mean?” Kelly waited for Sadie to shake her head. “Does he do bad things?” Again the shake. “But I guess he sometimes yells at you.”

      “No. Uncle Sam loves me and Emma,” Sadie insisted.

      “Then why would he send you away from your home?” Kelly waited for her to puzzle it out. “Uncle Sam wouldn’t do that, right?” Sadie shook her head. “Of course not. But you heard us talking and wondered why he said what he did.”

      “Uh-huh.” Sadie’s pigtails bobbed with her nod.

      “Well, honey, it’s like this. People are curious and sometimes they say silly things. I think Uncle Sam must have heard some of those folks talking, wondering about you and Emma.”

      “’Bout our mommy and daddy going away, you mean?” she said calmly, leaving Kelly to marvel at the quickness of this child’s brain. “I think they said it ’cause Uncle Sam hasn’t got a mommy.”

      “But—oh, you mean he doesn’t have a wife who could care for you?” Kelly clarified.

      “Uh-huh.” Sadie frowned. “Who’s gonna look after Emma ’n me?”

      “Uncle Sam’s going to look after you, honey. And I’m going to help him. If anyone asks you, you tell them that.” She hugged Sadie close, somewhat surprised by how quickly love for these precious children had swept into her heart, a determined and protective love that refused to let Marina’s beloved kids suffer unnecessarily.

      “Okay now, darlin’?” Sam drawled as he crouched in front of Sadie.

      “I guess.” Her freckled nose wrinkled. “But who’s my fam’ly?”

      “Darlin’, you got family coming out your ears.” Sam tickled her earlobe then began listing people. “You have two grandmas, two grandpas, Uncle Sam, Auntie Kelly, Emma, Jacob Samuel and Oscar—”

      “Oscar’s my fam’ly?” Sadie’s eyes peered at him in surprise.

      “Oscar’s our right-hand man,” Sam explained to Kelly. He handed her the baby before turning back to Sadie to cup her cheeks in his palms. “He lives on the Triple D, doesn’t he?” He grinned when she nodded. “Well then, Oscar must be family. Right, Kel?” he asked, holding her gaze with his own.

      Kel. The nickname he’d given her the night of the wedding. Sam was the only one who’d ever called her that. Kelly couldn’t help a thrill of pleasure at the familiarity. It made her feel part of the group, as though she belonged. Not even the memory of her mother’s frosty reception could ruin the burst of warmth that sprang up inside.

      Dear Sam. How kind of him to make her feel so welcome. Of course she was going to stay and help him, for as long as she could.

      “Kel?” He was still watching her with that intent stare that saw too much.

      “Right, Sam,” she agreed, snapping out of her reverie. “Oscar must be family.”

      “See, Sadie Lady? What did I say?” He chuckled at Sadie’s surprised look, but his attention returned to her. “Auntie Kel knows who’s family.”

      His gaze held, probing, reassuring, warm. It felt as if Sam saw deep inside her to the secret childhood yearning to be loved unconditionally that had never quite gone away.

      “Do ranch people eat dinner?” Kelly blurted, shifting under his stare. She rose, careful not to jostle Jacob Samuel, who was now sleeping. “I’m starving.”

      “It’s not dinnertime yet,” Sadie chided. “First Uncle Sam has to do chores.”

      “Tonight Oscar’s going to do my chores,” Sam explained as he took her hand on one side and Kelly’s free one on the other then drew them both beside him toward the kitchen. “Kelly and I were rushing so hard to get here we only had a bit of breakfast and we missed lunch. I’m starving. Let’s get a snack.”

      “Me an’ Emma could make you our shake-’em-up pudding,” Sadie volunteered as she swung his arm.

      “Would you do that for us, darlin’?” Sam asked in a voice so tender, Kelly was nearly moved to tears. “I’d sure appreciate that. Wouldn’t you, Kelly?”

      “Shake-’em-up pudding sounds just right to me,” she agreed. “Only I don’t know what it is. Can you show me how to make it, Sadie?”

      “Sure.” The little girl turned and bellowed, “Emma! Come an’ help me. We gotta cook. Uncle Sam and Auntie Kel are hun-gry.”

      Sam barely smothered his laughter and winked at Kelly, who faked a cough to hide her own mirth. When Sadie frowned at her, Kelly made a big deal of pretending to regain her breath until the child finally turned away.

      “Thanks.” Sam’s breath brushed her ear.

      “That’s why I’m here.” Kelly smiled at him, enjoying the cozy feeling that being part of Sam’s team brought. Until she caught a glimpse of her mother’s face over Sam’s shoulder.

      “So that’s how you think it will be, is it?” Arabella was clearly furious.

      “Mom? What’s wrong?” Kelly frowned when Arabella snatched Jacob Samuel from her arms, waking the little guy, who howled angrily at the disturbance.

      “You’ve never bothered to make connections, to be there when you’re needed, but now you think you’ll waltz in here and take your sister’s place, in her home—”

      “What?” Stunned, Kelly stared at her, unable to believe she was hearing this. But Sam was not frozen by Arabella’s bitter, angry words.

      “Stop it,” he ordered sternly. In one fluid move, he lifted Jacob from Arabella’s startled grasp and handed the child back to Kelly before gripping Arabella’s arm and firmly drawing her from the room, speaking over her angry protest. “I need to talk to you. Privately.”

      “Grannybell’s mad,” Sadie stated when they’d left. “You’re in big trouble.” She shook her head at Kelly then turned to order her sister to pour milk into a bowl.

      Big trouble? Kelly stared into Jacob’s scowling face and jiggled him just in time to stop a yowl of anger or making strange or whatever he was doing.

      “You’re right, Sadie,” she muttered with a sigh. “Almost ten years’ worth of trouble. I guess the time’s come to pay the piper.”

      “We don’t have a piper.” Sadie gave her a long look of pure pity before she turned back to her task, knocking over the milk jug as she did. Fortunately, Emma caught it. Sadie regally thanked her twin then returned to directing the pudding making.

      A snicker from the doorway drew Kelly’s attention. Sam stood just out of the kids’ view, shoulders shaking with laughter. Kelly gave him a severe look. That was when she realized Jacob’s diaper had leaked onto her shirt.

      No piper to pay? Wanna make a bet?

      * * *

      As Sam tucked Jacob Samuel into his crib, he tried to remember the last time his sides had ached simply from laughing so hard. For a few moments he was overwhelmed by a pang of guilt. How could he laugh when his brother would never laugh again? But Jake and Marina would want their family to be happy. He’d have to keep reminding