A Sweetheart For The Single Dad (The Camdens Of Colorado Book 8) (8 page)

The social worker arrived in the lobby about the time the story was finished and the girls greeted her by name. They seemed happy to see her, which helped ease some of Lindie’s concerns.

The police officer also knew the caseworker and Sawyer introduced himself and Lindie, explaining that they knew the girls from the community center and had just happened to be at the hospital today, but wanted to make sure the sisters were taken care of before they left.

The social worker included them as she explained that she’d already spoken to an aunt on their father’s side that was willing to have them stay with her.

“It might be a little crowded with your three cousins but your aunt said you’ve had sleepovers there before and it will be like that. Only this will be for more than one night so I want you girls to be on your best behavior and help out where you can, okay?” the social worker said.

The girls didn’t seem to have a problem with that idea and when Lindie glanced at Sawyer he raised an eyebrow at her as if to say, “See? There were other options.”

After handing the Murphy girls over to their caseworker, Officer Brown returned to the treatment area, and Lindie and Sawyer walked out with them.

Lindie couldn’t resist hugging the girls goodbye and telling them everything was going to be all right. She just hoped she wasn’t lying to them and silently vowed that she’d do whatever she could to help them if other needs arose.

Then, before she knew it, she was once again in Sawyer’s passenger seat and he was slipping in behind the wheel.

“I hope they’ll be okay,” she breathed as he pulled out of the parking lot and she glanced over her shoulder to see the girls getting into the social worker’s car.

“We’ll keep tabs on them and make sure they are,” he said before asking for her home address and programing it into his SUV’s guidance system.

He headed for the highway to get back to Denver and the next thing Lindie knew she was waking up to the sound of Sawyer’s voice ordering hamburgers.

“Did I fall asleep again?” she asked, embarrassed.

He finished placing the order at the drive-through’s menu board and pulled forward as instructed. “Out like a light,” he confirmed.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized for what seemed like bad manners even though she knew the medications the hospital had given her were to blame.

“No big deal,” he assured her with a small laugh.

“You’re probably thinking it’s a good thing I’m not trying to take care of four kids like this.”

“Who me? Nah,” he said facetiously as he picked up their food and drove on to her house only blocks away.

He didn’t wait to be invited in and Lindie was still fumbling to unfasten her seat belt when he was already out and around to open her door for her. She did manage to find her keys in her purse as they went from her double-car driveway to the front door of her large, cottage-style ranch home.

“Nice place,” he observed as she led him into the entry and closed the door behind them.

“Thanks. It needed a lot of remodeling but I’ve been here almost three years and I think the work is finally done.” And she was finished decorating it in whites and warm blue hues in a country style that was more about comfort and big, fluffy-cushioned furniture than about formality or impressing anyone.

“Let’s eat in the kitchen. Maybe I’ll be able to perk up at the table.” She led him to the rear of the house where she flipped on the lights to the space that had been the last of the remodel and now had a French-rustic feel to it.

“Brace for this,” she warned. “Remember I told you I have four dogs? They’ll come charging in any minute.”

Her pets used a doggy door to go in and out to the backyard as they pleased. Since they hadn’t been at the front to greet them Lindie knew they must be outside but would see the kitchen lights and come in.

That was exactly what happened and a moment later there were four dogs rallying around them.

“This is Harry and Max. They’re labradoodles.”

“Part Labrador, part poodles?”

“Right. And that’s Walter. He’s just a mutt. And the seven-pound alpha who keeps them all in line is Stan. You can tell he’s part poodle and something else, but I don’t know what.”

“You weren’t kidding about no purebred show dogs.”

“They’re all rescues. Harry and Max each needed hip replacements and their owners didn’t want anything to do with that so they were going to have them put down. I’d met the vet at a benefit and he called me. The owners didn’t want to keep them even if I paid for the hip replacements, so I took them—”

“And had hip replacements on
dogs
?”

“Yes, hip replacements on dogs,” Lindie said before finishing her explanation. “Walter and Stan were both picked up as strays—they’d been on the streets and were nearly starving. Poor Stan only weighed three pounds. But as you can see by Walter’s girth, he’s made up for it, and even Stan has some meat on his bones now.”

After petting all four dogs and watching Sawyer indulge them, as well, Lindie gave them bones so they would leave them alone.

“Okay, dog hellos are done,” she said, turning to Sawyer. “What can I get you to drink? I have soda or juice or iced tea.”

“A glass of water would be fine, thanks. But why don’t you sit and I’ll take care of that.”

“I’m fine. Just dopey.” She took out two glasses, filled them with ice and water from the dispenser in the freezer door and set them on the big antique oak table surrounded by metal café chairs.

“Since you were sleeping when I ordered I just got cheeseburgers with the works. Take off whatever you don’t want on yours,” he advised as he divided what was in the bag and they both sat to eat.

“So. First the candy bars. Now this tonight with the Murphy girls. Do you always leap before you look?”

“It’s a bad habit.”

“At least a habit, anyway, because I guess you even did it with volunteering at the center. I thought that was just to get to me but now I’m not so sure,” he mused. “But volunteering at the center and slipping contraband candy bars to kids is one thing. Taking on four kids in the blink of an eye for what could be months is something else.”

“I told you that my grandmother took in me and my brothers and sister and cousins when we didn’t have anywhere else to go. That was unsettling enough. But if I’d been separated from my brothers or my sister and shuffled off to people I’d never even met before?” She shook her head. “That would have been so much worse. I don’t know the Murphy girls well, but I like them, and if they need my help they’ll get it.”

“Like the four dogs,” he said with a glance at her pets. “Have you always brought home strays?”

“Every single one I’ve ever found. Cats, dogs and a duck once that still lives on the pond at my grandmother’s house.”

He’d just taken a bite of burger but as he chewed he studied her. “You’re the Camden rescuer?”

“When there’s not a need for an assassin,” she said as if it were fact, making him laugh.

Then, sobering, he said, “So, I don’t know details, but I have some general knowledge of the history of the Camdens—the plane crash, for instance. But how was it that so much of your family was on that plane in the first place? Everybody but H.J. and your grandmother and you kids.”

“There was a vacation for the adults planned. My sister and brothers and I were supposed to be left with our nanny, and my cousins with theirs. But H.J. was living with my grandmother and grandfather by then and he hurt his back just before they were set to leave. GiGi stayed home to take care of him or they would have been lost, too.”

“How old were you?”

“Lang, Livi and I—and our cousin Jani—were the youngest of the kids. We were six.”

“And your grandmother took in all ten of you?”

“She did.”

“That’s a whole lot of kids.”

“A
whole
lot!” she confirmed. “It was a houseful. No doubt about that.”

“A big Cherry Creek mansionful.”

“Still a houseful. And we were lucky to have each other. It isn’t always easy being who we are.”

“It wasn’t always easy being spoiled and pampered?” he goaded with enough humor in his voice to temper it.

“Ha! You don’t know my grandmother! We were
not
spoiled and we were definitely not pampered. GiGi was a farm girl from Montana, and money or no money, she made sure we were raised as much the way she had been as possible. Nannies were out of the question. We had chores. Even the smallest of us and even when we were little, bitty kids. When we got older we all had to get jobs if we couldn’t make our allowances stretch far enough for the things we wanted—which none of us could so we all had the usual teenage part-time jobs. We also had strict rules we had to follow, and GiGi never let us forget that with the Camden name came responsibilities and an obligation to give back, to do for others, to help wherever we could.”

“Like bringing home dogs and cats and ducks, and this stuff I’m seeing now.”

“I guess I took what I was taught seriously.” Lindie finished her hamburger and picked at her fries. “I know sometimes I go overboard. I just want to make sure everything and everybody is taken care of and has what they need, what they want. It’s what I do. I’m uncomfortable thinking that anyone might be unhappy or not feel safe.”

“Because you didn’t?”

“I did.”

“Not at first. How could you have?” he said as if he’d seen through her. “At first you were just a six-year-old who lost both of your parents. No matter what your last name was, that would shatter any kid’s world. And then, as if it wasn’t enough to be one of six at home, you had to move and become one of
ten
.”

His insight was spot-on.

“I did have to compete for adult attention and my place in the sun,” she admitted. “Actually, I can remember worrying about my place in the family and thinking that I had to be good, that I had to help wherever I could and make myself useful and not rock the boat or GiGi might wash her hands of me to make things easier.”

“Wow! That had to be a scary thought for a tiny kid! And somehow that turned into you wanting to become the help and salvation and safe haven for whoever might feel the same way?”

Lindie laughed. “I never considered that, but maybe that’s true. Only now it’s kind of gotten out of hand and my family wants me to tone it down. Which I’m honestly trying to do,” she said. “I’m trying not to always swoop in to rescue everyone. In the past few years it’s made trouble for me with friends and with men in my life. Three months ago it got me hurt and put me in danger, so my whole family wants me to put some brakes on it now.”

“Hurt and in danger?”

“I can’t say no. I can’t pass a donation jar without putting something in it. I can’t not give to a charity or buy the stuff kids sell to support their schools or teams or scout troops. I haven’t ever
not
signed on for anything that seemed like a worthy cause. And when it comes to panhandlers on the street or in parking lots—”

“You open your wallet,” he interrupted with a note of ominousness.

“Three months ago I did that and it turned into a mugging. The guy grabbed my wallet and then wanted my purse, too. In the process of yanking it off my shoulder he knocked me down. I hit my head and got all bruised and scraped up.”

“That’s bad.”

“Luckily another man came around the corner about that time. The panhandler ran off and my good Samaritan called for help. I ended up in the emergency room that day, too.”

“How hurt were you?”

“A minor concussion, cuts and bumps and bruises. Nothing big.”

“Big enough,” he said as if convinced she was understating, his handsome face pulled into a frown.

“Well, yeah, big enough and sort of the frosting on the cake of some other things that my urge to fix and rescue have caused in my personal life. Anyway, what started as a kid has gone a little too far. My family has been telling me for a long time that I can’t save the world and I’m starting to think they’re right so I’m trying to control it some.”

“By almost taking four kids home with you tonight?”

Lindie shrugged.

“What would have happened if you had?” he asked, watching her closely. “If you had done that and then regretted it, would you have just kept them and resented it? Resented them?”

That seemed like an odd question. “Is that why you didn’t want me to do it? You thought I’d sign on for it and then regret it and resent them?”

He took a turn at shrugging.

“When I commit, I commit,” she declared. “Don’t you?”

“Yeah,
I
do. But...” He shook his head and seemed to concede to something. “Okay, maybe that came out of my own stuff. Maybe you
would
have been fine instantly becoming the mother of four for an indefinite amount of time or maybe even forever. But I guess the same way you’re trying to control some excessive urges to fix and rescue, I’m trying to make sure that people don’t agree to things they don’t really want to agree to.”

“That’s something you’ve run into a lot?”

“Enough.” He didn’t expand, though. Instead he went on to lecture her again. “Like I said over the candy bars, when it comes to the kids at the center, watch and listen and ask questions, but
don’t
leap before you look. Or before you talk to experts and explore options and make sure you aren’t doing yourself or them a
dis
service. When it comes to your trying-not-to-fix-and-rescue thing, try a little harder, would you? Taking on four kids is not the same as taking on four dogs—although four dogs is a
lot
of commitment, too.”

That seemed to conclude his lecture because he stood and began to gather the remnants of their dinner to stuff back in the bag. “I should take off and let you recuperate from today.”

Lindie really was worn out so she had to agree, even though she wished he didn’t have to go.

“I’m sorry that I kept you from clearing the spot for your chess tables,” she said as she stood, too, and took the bag from him to take to the trash.

“The work went on, anyway. Marie called to see how you were and said that Eric and Tyler kept at it,” Sawyer said as they headed for the front door.