“The powder is floating all over.”
They looked at each other for a moment. He could see the disappointment in her eyes. Could he use something as a barricade for the powder? What could he lay over the stitches that wouldn’t wet or stick to them and would be easily removed?
“I’ve got an idea.”
He could feel her eyes on him as he opened the drawer where he kept his potholders. He picked up a silicone square he used as a hot pad to protect the table from casserole dishes. Caden grabbed sharp shears and cut a piece slightly larger than her injury. He washed and dried it carefully.
“Okay, sweetheart. You’re going to have to stay still so you don’t knock this off,” he told her and had to steel himself from smiling as she stiffened into the perfect soldier on alert posture.
“I won’t move,” she promised.
Placing the strip carefully, he picked up the shaker bottle and applied more to her head. “This is working, little girl. Keep that statue thing going.”
Soon, he brushed her hair thoroughly, leaving a sprinkle of rusty flakes on her shoulders and the floor. The tension in her shoulders eased. “Feel better, Brookie?”
“I can’t wait to wash my hair for real, but this is heaven. You’re really good at this.”
“Want Daddy to braid your hair to keep it out of the way?”
“Yes, please.”
He quickly removed the silicon barrier and finished her hair, giving her the first braid to hold while he did the second. “Okay, sweetheart. Hold the ends of this one, and I’ll go get something to tie around them.”
He was back in a flash with the cotton string he used to tie meat together for smoking. Cutting a couple of pieces, he fashioned small, adorable bows on the end of each braid. “How’s that?”
“Thank you. You’re good at this.”
“Braiding?” he asked with a smile.
“Being my daddy.”
His heart skipped a beat. For years he’d waited to find the perfect Little who matched his style of care. He’d found her. Stepping forward, he hugged Brooklyn tight and picked her up in his arms to settle her on his hip. She rested her head on his shoulder as he swayed back and forth.
Caden could see her eyelids fluttering shut. The flurry of activity had worn her out. He carried Brooklyn to her nursery and tucked his exhausted Little under the soft comforter. “Go to sleep, baby.”
“My friends are coming over,” she protested, yawning.
“They’ll be glad to let you nap for an hour. Then you can play.” He tucked Fluffikins into her arms and smiled as sherubbed her nose in the bunny’s soft fur. When she had settled, he pressed her pacifier into her mouth and rubbed her back until she relaxed and tumbled into sleep.
A quick text to the group chat delayed everyone’s arrival for a couple of hours. The answers popped in immediately. The team would be glad to come when Brooklyn was ready to see them. Her health was most important.
Caden forced himself from the nursery door. He could listen in on the monitor app to hear when she woke up. Carrying his phone with him, Caden headed for the kitchen to make the macaroni and cheese concoction that all the Littles loved. It would be hot and bubbly when she woke up.
Sniffing,Brooklyn blinked away her sleepiness. She rolled onto her back without thinking and yelped. Turning back on her side, she covered her stitches automatically, protecting them a bit too late.
Caden ran in seconds later. Literally raced to her side. Zale arrived right behind him. “Brookie, what’s wrong?”
“I’m okay. I’m so stupid and laid on my stitches,” she said.
“Sleepy, not stupid,” Caden corrected before helping her sit up and turn slightly so he and Zale could check her head. “The good news is you didn’t rip any stitches. You’re fine.”
Zale seconded that assessment. “I’m glad everything’s okay, but I bet that hurt.”
She nodded, trying to be brave. “I don’t want any pain medicine. That makes me too sleepy.” She looked toward the door and saw the entire group clustered at the entrance to her nursery.
“How about if your daddy gets you some juice to wake up, and we put some ice on your head to see if that helps?” Zale suggested.
“Okay.” She swallowed hard and immediately was thirsty. How did Zale know what she needed before she did?
