“You haven’t heard what I’m going to say.”
“Provided you are not gifting me with your children, or your medical practice, I can manage.I might not be good at maths, but I can manage just about everything else.”
“What a relief,” he said, his smile crooked.“I’m going to work; I’ll be back for dinner.The girls can have tea, but they are to stay put in their room until then.”
“Sounds good.”
He stepped into the hall, and she followed him to the door.“For what it’s worth,” he said, reaching for his coat, “you’re handling them—us—better than I hoped.Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
Rhys arched a dark brow, amusement in his light eyes.“I’m sure it is.I’ll see you later.”
Cat waited until he was gone before sinking into a kitchen chair and covering her face with her hands.She’d never tell him because the last thing she wanted to do was add to his worries, but this wasn’t easy, handling his girls, keeping everything calm so he could focus on his work.She’d never had to deal with an attitude like Jillian’s, or the intense preteen theatrics.It was a lot, but she’d never tell the girls, and she’d never tell Rhys.And she’d never admit that she hadn’t been prepared for family, or family dynamics.All of this—the girls, him, the emotions—were dragging up memories she’d fought to bury.
*
By the timethe brownies cooled and the scent of sizzling beef filled the kitchen, the house felt calm and settled.Cat had turned on lamps and the front porch light.
Rhys had returned for tea and then disappeared into his room, but she could hear him speaking to the girls upstairs.Cat moved around the downstairs, fluffing the pillows, straightening the wool blankets before adding another log to the sitting room fire.
Back in the kitchen, Cat moved between stove, counter, and table with focused determination, sleeves rolled up, hair escaping its knot.The buns were unevenly toasted, the lettuce slightly wilted, and the burgers were thicker than she’d hoped, but it was dinner and no one would go to bed hungry tonight.
“Smells good,” Rhys said, entering the kitchen.
She glanced at him over her shoulder and tried to ignore the flicker of attraction she felt every time she looked at him.“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I’m not,” he said.“Just impressed.We haven’t had hamburgers in ages.”
“They’re a morale booster,” she said, flipping a patty.“We needed one of those tonight.”
Before he could reply, footsteps came from the stairs—slow, deliberate.Jillian appeared first, posture stiff, followed by Olivia, clutching her small stuffed horse.
Cat turned with an easy smile.“Perfect timing.Dinner’s ready.”
The girls took their seats quietly, their faces carefully neutral.Rhys sat across from them, waiting.
Olivia spoke first.“We’re sorry, Miss Hayes,” she said, voice soft.
Cat smiled.“Thank you, Olivia.”
Jillian’s turn took longer.
She looked down at her plate, then at her father, and finally at Cat.“I’m sorry too.For disappearing.”
Cat nodded, her tone kind.“I appreciate that.I was just worried, that’s all.”
Jillian gave a small nod, the faintest shift of guilt softening her expression.
Rhys cleared his throat.“All right then.Let’s eat before it gets cold.”
The first few bites passed in silence, punctuated by the faint clink of cutlery.
Olivia’s face brightened immediately.“It’s good!”she said, beaming.
Jillian gave her sister a sidelong glance, then picked up her own burger.She took a bite, chewed thoughtfully, and frowned a little.
“It’s okay,” she said at last, then tilted her head, eyeing the plate.“It’s just… weird having baked beans with hamburgers.We usually have chips.”
