head.
“Close your eyes, Isabel, I’m going to kiss you,” he whispered. She obeyed and felt his breath on her cheek, his mouth opening her lips sweetly, and every thought left her head.
Thoughts, she supposed, were highly overrated anyway.
She heard a door slam. Eli jerked away from her, and she remembered she’d been kissing him in broad daylight in front of anybody who happened to be looking out a window or driving down the street.
Or pelting down the driveway.
“Mommy! Mommy! You’re back! I dived and Mercedes learned to swim and Owen put a minnow down Benny’s back! Can I have an ice-cream sandwich?” Danilo cast himself against Isabel’s legs, looking up at her with shining brown eyes.
“I suppose so.” Isabel looked around to find Owen himself standing in the front door, holding Mercedes’s hand, with a smug smile on his sunburned face.
“I’ll take one of those, too,” Owen drawled, and she had a feeling he wasn’t talking about ice cream.
“Let’s—” Isabel gulped “—let me just get in the house and we’ll see.” She slipped past Eli, who looked as if he’d just walked into a wall. “How did everything go, Owen?” Her lips felt on fire. She wasn’t sure she was speaking English.
“Looks like it went pretty well.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Owen.”
“Well, you asked.” He grinned.
“Have you fed them any supper yet?” Isabel marched up the sidewalk, stepping over the dog sprawled across the porch steps. “Hey, Fonzie.”
“You mean they have to eat?” Owen said innocently, then called out to his brother. “Come on in, Eli—or haven’t you had enough communing with nature for one day?”
Eli gave himself a little shake and shut the passenger door of the Jeep. “I guess I have. Haven’t. What are you talking about?” He followed Isabel, swinging Danilo onto his shoulders.
“I just want to make it perfectly clear, yard boy, that you owe me big-time.” Winking at Mercedes, Owen stepped aside so that Isabel could enter the house.
She paused in the kitchen doorway, surveying the detritus of a very messy supper spread all over every visible surface. “What exactly have you been doing in here? Dissecting the San Antonio Zoo?”
Owen peered over her shoulder. “They couldn’t decide what they wanted, so I gave ’em one of each.”
Isabel clenched her hands together to keep from giving Owen a Three Stooges poke in the eyes. “Okay. But popsicles, cheese curls, pretzels and chocolate cookies are not the four basic food groups.”
“That explains the black teeth,” said Eli from the living room. “And Mercedes looks like she doesn’t feel well.”
Great, Isabel thought. She was going to pay in spades for her day off.
Chapter Eight
T he nightmare came again, this time sending Isabel plunging into darkness. Dark water. Water, drowning suffocating blinding.
She struggled to sit up, wide-eyed and coughing, tears pouring.
Not water. Smoke. Unbreatheable smoke.
Terror poured through her veins as she realized the house must be on fire. She could hear flames crackling from some part of the house.
The children. She had to get to the children—
Scrambling out from under tangled sheets, she slid off the high mattress of her antique bedstead, her feet hitting warm pine. Screaming “Fire!” she ran for the open doorway, ducking to find the purest air near the floor. The bathroom night-light shed an eerie glare on the smoke, but she still couldn’t see flames.
Prayer mingling with terror, she stumbled into Danilo’s room. Yelling his name, she ran to open the window, then snatched her little boy out of his bed. He lay limp in her arms as she leaned out the window and laid him on the ground. Oh, God wake him up, let him breathe….
No time to linger. Leaving her precious baby, she crouched back inside the room, where every breath was agony.
Down the hall one more door, her ears roaring and her head beginning to spin. Thank God Mercedes liked the
“Close your eyes, Isabel, I’m going to kiss you,” he whispered. She obeyed and felt his breath on her cheek, his mouth opening her lips sweetly, and every thought left her head.
Thoughts, she supposed, were highly overrated anyway.
She heard a door slam. Eli jerked away from her, and she remembered she’d been kissing him in broad daylight in front of anybody who happened to be looking out a window or driving down the street.
Or pelting down the driveway.
“Mommy! Mommy! You’re back! I dived and Mercedes learned to swim and Owen put a minnow down Benny’s back! Can I have an ice-cream sandwich?” Danilo cast himself against Isabel’s legs, looking up at her with shining brown eyes.
“I suppose so.” Isabel looked around to find Owen himself standing in the front door, holding Mercedes’s hand, with a smug smile on his sunburned face.
“I’ll take one of those, too,” Owen drawled, and she had a feeling he wasn’t talking about ice cream.
“Let’s—” Isabel gulped “—let me just get in the house and we’ll see.” She slipped past Eli, who looked as if he’d just walked into a wall. “How did everything go, Owen?” Her lips felt on fire. She wasn’t sure she was speaking English.
“Looks like it went pretty well.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Owen.”
“Well, you asked.” He grinned.
“Have you fed them any supper yet?” Isabel marched up the sidewalk, stepping over the dog sprawled across the porch steps. “Hey, Fonzie.”
“You mean they have to eat?” Owen said innocently, then called out to his brother. “Come on in, Eli—or haven’t you had enough communing with nature for one day?”
Eli gave himself a little shake and shut the passenger door of the Jeep. “I guess I have. Haven’t. What are you talking about?” He followed Isabel, swinging Danilo onto his shoulders.
“I just want to make it perfectly clear, yard boy, that you owe me big-time.” Winking at Mercedes, Owen stepped aside so that Isabel could enter the house.
She paused in the kitchen doorway, surveying the detritus of a very messy supper spread all over every visible surface. “What exactly have you been doing in here? Dissecting the San Antonio Zoo?”
Owen peered over her shoulder. “They couldn’t decide what they wanted, so I gave ’em one of each.”
Isabel clenched her hands together to keep from giving Owen a Three Stooges poke in the eyes. “Okay. But popsicles, cheese curls, pretzels and chocolate cookies are not the four basic food groups.”
“That explains the black teeth,” said Eli from the living room. “And Mercedes looks like she doesn’t feel well.”
Great, Isabel thought. She was going to pay in spades for her day off.
Chapter Eight
T he nightmare came again, this time sending Isabel plunging into darkness. Dark water. Water, drowning suffocating blinding.
She struggled to sit up, wide-eyed and coughing, tears pouring.
Not water. Smoke. Unbreatheable smoke.
Terror poured through her veins as she realized the house must be on fire. She could hear flames crackling from some part of the house.
The children. She had to get to the children—
Scrambling out from under tangled sheets, she slid off the high mattress of her antique bedstead, her feet hitting warm pine. Screaming “Fire!” she ran for the open doorway, ducking to find the purest air near the floor. The bathroom night-light shed an eerie glare on the smoke, but she still couldn’t see flames.
Prayer mingling with terror, she stumbled into Danilo’s room. Yelling his name, she ran to open the window, then snatched her little boy out of his bed. He lay limp in her arms as she leaned out the window and laid him on the ground. Oh, God wake him up, let him breathe….
No time to linger. Leaving her precious baby, she crouched back inside the room, where every breath was agony.
Down the hall one more door, her ears roaring and her head beginning to spin. Thank God Mercedes liked the
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