Sweet Gone South by Alicia Hunter Pace Page A

he thought some references from an acquaintance and a mid-day phone call home was enough? Or had he been so desperate for help that he didn’t care?
    “Why?” He looked back up at Lanie. “Why would she do such a thing? Emma hates a wet diaper; she won’t tolerate a dirty one.”
    “She said you wanted Emma toilet trained and this was an approved method.”
    “Approved by who? Beelzebub? Lanie, I never — ”
    “No,” Lanie reached her hand toward him, almost touching him, but drew back just before making contact. “I never thought you would think that was all right. Still, I probably shouldn’t have threatened to kill her. So, that’s the story of why we needed baths,” she said lightly with a sigh. “And the story of why I’m going to jail.”
    She’d threatened to kill for
his
child. She was wearing
his
robe. He stood up and took a step toward her. She smelled like
his
soap and
his
shampoo.
    He couldn’t help it. He placed his hands on either side of her face, not quite cupping her cheeks but letting his fingertips barely glaze her cheekbones. He could feel the warmth of her skin with his palms. She looked up at him, puzzled. He might have closed his hands on her face and lowered his mouth to hers if Emma had not burst into the room.
    “Purr Kitty! Needs a hair bow!” She waved the ragged gray stuffed cat she’d had all her life in the air.
    Saved by Purr Kitty. He let his hands drop to Lanie’s shoulders and squeezed them in a friendly way. “You’re not going to jail.” He was in
take over mode, judge mode, caveman mode
. “I’m going to make a call to Mrs. Bumpus. She will not be calling the police or anyone else. When I get through with her, she will understand that she’d better thank Jesus and Buddha that you — and not me — came in on that little scene. Go get dressed. And I need your car keys.”
    “Why do you need my keys?”
    “We’re all going out to dinner at this fish place on the lake out near our farm. I need to put Emma’s car seat in your car.” She didn’t question him. After giving Purr Kitty a hair bow, she fished the keys out of her soiled apron pocket and gave them to him.
    It was then he remembered that he was back to square one.
    It was as if Lanie saw it in his face, or read his mind. “Luke, I’m sorry about this. I’m going to help you with Emma until you find someone new.”
    “It’s not your fault or your responsibility. And you don’t have time. Even I can see you’re making Easter candy from dawn to bedtime.”
    “I wasn’t apologizing. I was expressing regret. I can spare some afternoons. Also, Lucy and Miss Annelle have a girl — Pam Carson — who took off a year from college to work for them. She’s trying to decide if she wants to go into interior design. She sits for Beau sometimes. I’ll talk to Lucy and see if they can arrange her schedule so she can give you a couple of afternoons a week.”
    Luke balked. The last thing he needed was Lanie Heaven underfoot. It would be like holding a gamblers’ anonymous meeting at Caesars Palace. But then Emma threw her arms around Lanie’s leg and looked up at her, adoringly. Lanie looked down and stroked Emma’s cheek. What passed between them was unmistakable. Emma had been the captive of an evil witch and Lanie had saved her.
    “Thank you,” Luke said — partly because of the tenderness between the two and partly because he had no choice. He reached in his pocket for his phone.
    “Lanie? Will you take Emma across the hall with you while you dress? I don’t want her to hear me make this call.”

CHAPTER FIVE
    Lanie was taking the day off — not the morning, not part of the afternoon, but the whole day. Easter was a week from tomorrow, sales had been good, and she was exhausted from making candy and filling mail orders. And, she smiled to herself, from helping out with Emma. She’d spent some of her best afternoons with the child, but she had to admit a three-year-old was exhausting, so