Wife and Mother Wanted. Nicola Marsh

      ‘Molly is fine.’

      Anger shot through her body, surprising her with its intensity. Carissa rarely lost her temper, viewing anger as a wasted emotion for the gutless—like her adoptive father, who had wielded it every chance he got. However, Brody’s defensive act annoyed her. So the guy had a chip on his shoulder the size of Ayers Rock? There was no need for everyone around him to suffer because of it.

      ‘I didn’t say she wasn’t.’

      ‘Whatever. I better go.’

      God, he was touchy! She hadn’t seen him around his daughter, but if this was how he spoke to Molly it went a long way to explaining the wary look in the little girl’s eyes she’d glimpsed the other day, when they’d first met.

      ‘Uh-huh.’ Their gazes locked—his angry, hers challenging. She’d stare him down if it killed her, the big grump.

      ‘Look, thanks again for dinner. I’ll let myself out.’

      He headed for the door, almost wrenching the knob off in his hurry to leave.

      ‘Brody, any time Molly wants to play over here is fine by me. Just send her over,’ Carissa said to his rapidly departing back.

      If she could do anything to bring a spark to the little girl’s world, she would. From what she could see Molly spent far too much time alone in her back yard, perched in that giant eucalypt, wearing a glum expression on her cheeky face. At first appearance Molly seemed a lonely girl who needed attention, and if anyone knew how that felt she did. Ron and Betty had ignored her from the minute she’d set foot in their impressive house, and though she’d wanted for nothing materially, emotionally she’d craved affection.

      She’d been a model daughter—yearning for a kind word, a gentle caress from her new parents. And what had she got for her trouble? Harsh putdowns and scathing verbal attacks that gave her nightmares to this day.

      Molly probably couldn’t remember too much of her mother, but loneliness was an emotion that could strike at any age, and Carissa wanted to do something to help alleviate the little girl’s pain.

      If the occasional play session could brighten Molly’s day, she’d stand up to big bad Brody every day of the week to get her way.

      Brody turned to face her. ‘Why the interest in my daughter?’

      His fierce gaze didn’t scare her. Not much, that was.

      ‘I love children, and Molly’s new in town.’ She shrugged, as if his response didn’t mean much, when in fact she hoped he’d have the sense to take her honest answer at face value and give her a chance to get to know Molly. ‘I guess I thought she could use some friends.’

      His frown lessened for about two seconds before he said, ‘We’ll see,’ and walked out the door.

      ‘We’ll see.’ She imitated his terse reply under her breath, shaking her head and trying not to break plates as she shoved them into the dishwasher.