Rhys did want to do the right thing for his family, even when it was hard, even when he was afraid he was failing.
She looked at him for an extra moment, feeling strangely protective.She had only been here four full days and yet already he’d stolen a small piece of her heart.He was a good man.A man she respected.A man she could seriously fall for.
And that was the one thing she couldn’t let happen.
They ate in the sitting room, the girls on the floor in front of the coffee table, Rhys in his chair by the fire, and Cat at one end of the couch.Everyone had chattered their way through first and second helpings, and now Cat was in the kitchen scraping dishes and washing up while Rhys and his girls lingered in the sitting room, admiring the Christmas tree, reminiscing about the time baby Olivia had smashed an ornament because no one would let her hang it since it was glass.Olivia made a face, complaining that she didn’t remember doing something so dumb, resulting in Jillian saying matter of factly that Olivia did a lot of dumb things as a baby, but it was okay, she was just a babe before giving her sister a hug.
Cat headed upstairs to gather the girls’ dirty clothes, and damp outdoor wear, and as she came down the stairs, she saw Rhys standing at the bookshelf studying the faded hardback books.
He glanced toward Cat who had paused to watch.
“I loved this one,” Rhys said, drawing a worn book from the shelf and then showing her the faded cover.“The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.”
“What edition is it?”
“1955,” he said, opening the cover.“First edition, second printing.”
She set the laundry basket on the floor to peek at the book over his arm.“You should read it to them.See what they think.”
“They’ll be bored in five minutes, I guarantee.”
“I bet you’re wrong.”She looked up at him, expression teasing.
He held her gaze.“Is that a challenge?”
Heat rushed through her and, blushing, Cat lifted the basket.“Nope.But try.I’d love to be wrong.”
“I think you’d love to be right.”
Laughing, Cat continued on to the kitchen while Rhys walked over to the couch with the book.“Let’s read the first chapter,” he said, settling down between them.
Cat could hear Jillian’s groan.“But, Dad, that’s a little kid’s book.”
“Lucky for you, you’re still technically a kid,” he answered.
When Cat emerged from the kitchen a few minutes later, she saw the girls nestled on either side of their father, the fire dancing merrily, the flickering flames throwing shadows and light.Rhys had opened the book to the first page.“Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy…”
The rhythm of his voice filled the room—steady, deep, familiar.Olivia tucked her feet under the blanket, and she rested her cheek against his shoulder.Even Jillian’s posture softened as the story unfolded.When Rhys read about the professor’s big house in the country, Cat saw Jillian glance toward the window, as if imagining herself there.
Rhys paused to turn a page, glancing down to find Jillian had edged closer, her shoulder brushing his arm.She caught him looking and made a face but didn’t move away.He smiled faintly and kept reading.
By the time Lucy opened the wardrobe door into the snow-filled wood, the fire had burned low, and both girls were quiet, while Olivia’s eyes were wide, her lips parted in wonder.
A lump filled Cat’s throat, and she was reminded of her own childhood and the evenings when her father read to her.It was something she had loved, and it was one of the things she missed most after her parents’ deaths.
When Rhys finally closed the book, he didn’t speak right away.Neither did the girls.
“Tomorrow,” Olivia whispered, “can you read the next chapter?”
“Tomorrow,” he promised.
Cat had enjoyed the storytelling as much as the girls.She’d stopped working to just sit on the bottom step and listen to the story.She’d been as caught up in the adventures of the children as the Harmon girls.
Cat rose to return to the kitchen to fold whatever was now dry.Olivia came to her and wrapped her arms around her, giving her a hug.“’Night, Cat,” she said, yawning.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
Jillian hesitated in the kitchen doorway, looking shy.“Good night,” she said after a moment.
