Patchwork Family (8 page)

“Strawberry muffins?” Martha asked, her gaze darting back and forth between the two of them.

“I took a muffin-tasting test for Molly. She makes great muffins,” Quinn explained. “I even took some home. Dad and Brady loved them, too.”

Molly stared at Quinn’s appearance, finally noticing he wasn’t in a suit, as he’d always been in the past. He’d taken her at her word and dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. He looked so rugged and charming, she regretted her advice. The casual clothes made him much too approachable. Not a good thing.

The sound of a car in the driveway distracted her. “I think Kaitlin is here.” She hurried to the back door, only to discover Quinn on her heels.

“Will she have the children with her?”

“Some of them. Jeremy’s mother is helping, too. Pam Kelsey. She’s a coach at the high school.” She took a deep breath, feeling that she was babbling.

“I know Pam,” Quinn assured her. “I grew up here, remember?” He grabbed his coat and stepped outside. Then he looked at her. “Where’s your coat?”

“I’m just going to be out here a minute.” Her new cream sweater and navy wool pants would keep her warm enough to get the kids inside.

Like ants scurrying toward a crumb, children poured from the two vehicles, headed straight for them.

“This way, children. Sara, don’t run. Hurry in so you won’t get cold,” Molly called, enjoying seeing her daughter with her friends. Since their arrival in Tyler, Sara had had the opportunity to learn to play with others. Molly was pleased with her child’s progress.

“Mommy, Mommy!” Sara called. “I want to show everyone my bedroom. Can I? Can I take them upstairs?”

That would give Quinn time to get the small tables inside and set up. “Yes, if you’ll be careful on the stairs. Don’t go too fast for everyone.” She’d lectured her daughter on her responsibilities as hostess.

Like a whirlwind blowing through the kitchen, twelve little children hurried across the room, pausing only for Jeremy and Sara to greet Martha.

Molly remained at the back door, greeting Pam as she reached the kitchen, and holding the door wide for both Quinn and Kaitlin. Then she went out to Kaitlin’s van to gather some of the plastic chairs. Quinn returned for the last table and some of the chairs.

“I can get them, Molly. You don’t have a coat on,” he reminded her.

“So I’ll go back inside with some chairs,” she returned mildly. She should protest his attempt to protect her, but it was so sweet, she couldn’t bring herself to do so. Of course, it meant nothing, but, still, it felt good.

Once everything was unloaded, they returned to the warmth of the kitchen.

After putting down the chairs, Molly hurried over to pour more coffee.

“Where are the kids?” Quinn asked, a puzzled look on his face.

“Sara wanted to show her friends her bedroom,” Molly explained. Suddenly Quinn was at her side, taking the coffee she’d poured for Pam and Kaitlin and carrying it to the table.

Molly saw the look the three women exchanged and grew flustered. She poured Quinn’s cup of coffee as he returned to her side.

“Aren’t you having any?” he asked.

“Not right now. I want to get the hot dogs on the tables before the kids come back down. They’re always starved after school.”

“We’ll help,” Pam said, starting to get up.

Before Molly could speak, Quinn said, “Sit down, Pam. I’ll help Molly. I haven’t been working all morning, like you have.” He added, “You, too, Kaitlin. Martha’s been looking forward to visiting with you.”

“She sees me when I come to the Quilting Circle,” Kaitlin protested with a smile for Martha.

Since Quinn seemed insistent on helping, Molly had him pour milk into twelve small party cups and put them at each place setting, while she put the boiled wieners on buns and placed them on party plates. She already had several kinds of chips in bowls.

She’d prepared two trays with condiments on them. She’d intended to ask Kaitlin to start at one end of the long table while she began at the other, helping each child personalize his or her hot dog. But Quinn seemed to figure out what she needed before she said anything and took one of the trays just as the children came racing back into the kitchen.

“We’re hungry!” Sara announced, excitement in her voice.

“Lunch is ready. Everyone sit down,” Molly directed.

“Now I know how the cowboys felt when the herd stampeded,” Quinn murmured as he passed by her.

“And they haven’t had sugar yet,” she warned him, but she couldn’t help smiling.

As soon as the children began eating, the noise level descended. Molly hurried to the stove to take out a dish of her chicken casserole. Quinn took it from her and carried it to the table. She fetched the salad, ready except for the dressing, from the refrigerator. The rolls were in the lower oven, ready to eat.

In no time, everyone was served.

“My, Quinn, I had no idea you were so handy around the kitchen,” Martha teased.

Molly expected Quinn to protest. Instead, he laughed at Martha. “It’s not hard to be helpful when all you have to do is put the food on the table. The skill is in making it. Like this chicken casserole. It’s terrific, Molly.”

She muttered a thank-you, her cheeks aflame. Christopher had never expressed any appreciation for her cooking, much less offered to help.

“In fact, I only see one thing Molly’s failed at,” Quinn added, a grin on his face.

She should’ve known. He was too good to be true. Christopher had frequently listed her faults in front of guests. It seemed Quinn intended to do the same.

Holding her breath, she steeled herself for his criticism.

It hadn’t occurred to Quinn that anyone would take his words seriously. How could they? Molly was so incredibly talented. Combining her skills with the love she put into her work, she was unparalleled as a mother and homemaker.

But the look on her face told him he’d made a mistake. Keeping his smile in place, he explained, “She didn’t teach Sara that her chicken casserole is much better than a hot dog.”

The other ladies laughed. Molly stared at him, a look of disbelief on her face.

Had her husband not appreciated her? Had Christopher been cruel to her? That thought had Quinn’s stomach clenching in anger and disgust.

“We’re ready for birthday cake!” Sara announced in a loud voice, followed by cheers from the other children.

Molly wrenched her gaze from him and left her unfinished meal to tend to the children. He immediately followed her.

“Can I help?”

“No, I’ll manage, thank you. Go finish your casserole.”

“My turn to help,” Pam said behind him, having followed them. “Go keep Martha company. I know you’re a favorite of hers.”

But Quinn didn’t want to be dismissed. As Molly began clearing away the paper plates with the remains of the hot dogs, he grabbed a trash bag and held it open for her as she rounded the table.

“Thank you, but it’s not necessary.”

“It’ll be faster.”

He felt someone tugging on his shirt and discovered Sara behind him.

“Mr. Spencer, have you seen my cake?”

“No, Sara, I haven’t. Is it chocolate?”

“Yes, and it’s Mickey!” Sara’s face was beaming.

“Mickey?” he asked, not quite sure of the significance of her words.

“Mickey Mouse!” Sara clarified. “Mommy made it!”

“I want to see!” Jeremy called, followed by the other children, jumping out of their chairs to follow Sara.

“Back in your seats, so we can bring the cake to the table,” Molly calmly ordered. “If you’re not in your chair, I won’t be able to give you any cake and ice cream.”

There was a concerted rush to the chairs. Several tumbled over, and Quinn abandoned the trash bag to restore order.

Molly crossed to the kitchen and opened a cabinet, bringing out a large plate holding a cake in the shape of Mickey Mouse’s head. The children oohed and aahed when they saw the cake. The ladies came over to surround the little tables as Molly inserted candles into the icing.

“Did you do the cake yourself?” Pam asked.

“Yes,” Molly answered as she lit the candles.

Quinn was amazed. He’d occasionally seen decorated cakes in a bakery, but they hadn’t looked any better than Molly’s.

She led the little group in a round of “Happy Birthday,” then ordered the delighted Sara to make a wish and blow out the candles. When that ritual had been performed, amid lots of cheers, the dishing out of cake and ice cream began.

When all the children had been served, Quinn returned to his chicken casserole, promising Sara he’d eat some of her cake later. He was discovering that small children rushed through everything at a birthday party. If he’d tried to eat that fast, he’d have indigestion.

He noticed Molly barely ate anything. She was too busy supervising the children and moving on to the next stage before they could get impatient.

“She’s good, isn’t she?” Martha whispered as Molly returned to the children’s table to settle a dispute.

“Absolutely,” Kaitlin agreed. “I’d love to have her come work for me, but she’s too busy. I hope the bed-and-breakfast succeeds.”

“It has to,” Quinn said. “She’s too good. Once anyone eats her cooking, or sees how much effort she’s put into the house, they won’t be able to resist.”

“I think we need to find her a husband, though,” Martha said quietly.

Quinn tried to hide the sudden protest that welled up in him. “I’m not sure she’s interested in a husband.”

“Probably not after being married to Christopher,” Martha said crisply. “But Sara needs a father, and Molly could use some help around here.”

“She’s managing just fine,” he insisted. The thought of Molly and another man didn’t seem right to him, but he didn’t examine his feelings too closely.

“Are you coming to the open house on Sunday?” Kaitlin asked him, changing the subject.

“Yeah, of course. I think Dad and Brady are coming, too. And I’m sure Seth and Jenna will be here. Jenna has designed Molly’s stationery and things.”

“From what I hear,” Pam inserted, “I think most of the town will be here. There’s a lot of curiosity, partly caused by Ursula’s animosity.”

“That woman is half-crazy, don’t you know,” Martha said.

Quinn realized it was Ursula’s behavior that had sent Molly running to his office. Not such a bad thing.

“It’s time to open presents!” Sara announced.

“Sara,” Molly remonstrated quietly, “your friends haven’t finished their cake and ice cream yet.”

“Hurry!” Sara exclaimed.

Quinn suspected Sara’s response wasn’t quite what Molly had hoped for.

Kaitlin rose from the table. “I think it’s time for cleanup again.”

Martha started to get up. Quinn reached out a hand and stopped her. “You stay put, Martha. I’ll help.”

Martha nodded.

As he moved away from the table, he heard Pam
murmur, “My, I had no idea Quinn was so—so domesticated.”

Truth to tell, he hadn’t, either. If someone had told him a month ago that he’d be attending a child’s birthday party, he’d have laughed in his face. But it seemed so right to be at Sara’s party.

To be helping Molly.

Being part of the afternoon’s events satisfied something he hadn’t even known he needed. He suddenly realized he felt part of a family.

He froze.

“Quinn, is something wrong?” Molly asked as she dumped the remains of the dessert into the trash bag.

His gaze flew to her face. “No! No, nothing at all. How long does the party last?” The sudden urge to escape had nothing to do with the party—and a lot to do with the panic filling him.

“If you need to leave, we can manage. You’ve been a big help. I appreciate it. Just tell Sara you have to go back to work.”

Her easy acceptance of his need to escape surprised him. And calmed him. Molly wasn’t trying to trap him into anything. In fact, she’d encouraged him not to come. And now that he was here, she wasn’t demanding he stay.

“No, I just wondered. It’s hard to believe they can keep this energy level going for so long.”

“Now that they’ve had sugar, they can go for several more hours.” The rueful smile on her beautiful lips made him want to kiss her. He took a step backward.

“Quinn? Just tell Sara—”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her, even
though he was shaking inside. He’d never been attracted to a mother before. But then, Molly was an exceptional mother.

He’d get over it. In fact, better that he stay. She’d get ornery when the children continued to be so demanding. He was sure she would. Better to see her feet of clay than to leave now, thinking her perfect.

W
HEN SHE HAD THE CHILDREN
seated in a circle on the rug, Molly handed the first present to Sara, hoping her daughter remembered the rules she’d drummed into her last night.

The first gift was a picture puzzle. “Oh, look, Mommy! A puzzle! I love puzzles. Thank you, Margaret.”

Pride swelled in Molly’s heart. She smiled at her daughter and nodded.

Sara began to get a little giddy as the presents piled up. She’d never received so much at one time. Molly carefully tried to keep her in check, reminding her of her manners when she forgot.

Finally all the presents had been opened, even one from Martha, except for the large box Quinn had carried in. Sara eyed it with awe. “It’s so big!” she squealed.

“Maybe it’s a train!” Jeremy suggested.

“I think it’s a big dog!” another little boy exclaimed, standing to spread his arms as far as he could. All the children began to speculate and the noise level rose in the room.

Molly suggested Sara rip off the brightly colored paper and reveal the gift before the guessing got out of hand. In no time, Sara had done so. Suddenly the room got quiet.

“A dollhouse, Mommy!” Sara whispered, excitement in her voice. “It’s a dollhouse!” Suddenly she looked up from the box, seeking the giver.

Molly watched, her heart in her throat when Sara found Quinn, watching the proceedings from the table. She flew across the room and threw herself at him, her little arms folding around his neck. “Thank you,” she exclaimed, her lips placing several kisses on his cheek.

“I’m glad you like it, sweetheart,” Quinn assured her, hugging her back.

Q
UINN WAS HAPPY
his present had been a success, though Sara’s enthusiasm had dimmed slightly when she realized she couldn’t open the box and take it out. The dollhouse was in pieces, waiting for someone to put it together.

Which explained why he was standing in the kitchen waiting for everyone else to leave. Pam had offered to take Martha home, for which he was grateful.

“Thanks for all your help, Pam,” Molly was saying. “And, Martha, we’re so glad you came.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it,” Martha said.

Molly escorted the two of them to Pam’s van, along with five of the children.

Quinn was pretty sure Molly had forgotten he was still there when she came back into the house, a tired look on her face. After feeding the children, serving cake and ice cream, supervising the unwrapping of presents, she had led the children in games.

Sara stood beside Quinn. “Wasn’t that the bestest party ever?”

“It certainly was. And you were a very good hostess, little Sara.”

“Mommy ’splained about being a hostess.” Sara leaned against his leg. The sugar appeared to be wearing off and Sara looked tired.

Molly came back in. “Oh! I hadn’t realized—Sara, did you thank Mr. Spencer for coming to your party?”

“Yes, Mommy, and for my bestest present, too. When can you put it together?”

Quinn smiled wryly at Molly’s effort to remain enthusiastic about his gift. He knew she had a busy schedule between now and Sunday.

“I’m not sure, sweetie, but I’ll do it as soon as I can,” she promised.

“I have a better idea,” Quinn said, watching Molly.

“What?” Sara asked, lifting her face to him.

He bent over and scooped her up in his arms. “How about you go lie down and take a—” he remembered just in time to use the right word “—a rest, and I’ll work on the dollhouse. Maybe when you get up, I’ll have it all put together.”

“Couldn’t I help you?” Sara asked, her arms around his neck.

Quinn swallowed, realizing how hard it was to remain firm when those big blue eyes were pleading with him. “Uh, I think Mommy wants you to have a rest.”

“Quinn—I mean, Mr. Spencer is right, Sara. You’ve had a big afternoon. You need some quiet time.” Molly crossed the room and took Sara from him. “And I suspect Mr. Spencer would like some quiet time, too. We’ll get your dollhouse put together
another day. You have lots of toys to play with until I do.”

“But, Mommy—”

“Sara.”

That one quiet word had Sara capitulating. “Okay,” she whispered, and put her head on Molly’s shoulder.

As she walked toward the kitchen door, Molly said, “If you need to leave, feel free to go. I appreciate all the help you gave me.” With a small smile, she disappeared from sight, along with Sara.

Quinn surveyed the kitchen. Molly had kept up with the cleaning as the party progressed. Everything was almost shipshape. In fact, it was hard to tell a party had taken place. He could leave, knowing Molly would be able to rest.

But he wasn’t leaving.

He took out two more paper plates and cut two pieces of Sara’s cake. Then he added a scoop of ice cream to each piece and set them on the table, with spoons.

As Molly came back through the kitchen door, he was taking his first bite of the cake she’d made.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I forgot you didn’t get any cake.”

“I hope you don’t mind me helping myself,” he said, offering a smile to charm her.

“Of course not.”

“I fixed some for you, too. You didn’t have a chance to eat any, either.”

“I warned you children’s parties are rather hectic,” she pointed out as she sat down.

“Great cake.”

“Thank you.”

He watched her as she took her first bite of cake
and ice cream. “How did you learn to decorate a cake like that?”

“There are kits. It’s easy. I like doing that sort of thing. I talked to Jenna about fixing a sign for Sunday, offering my services for birthday cakes or special occasion desserts.”

“Are you sure you’ll have time?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Martha said you need a husband.” He hadn’t intended to tell her about that remark, but it still bothered him.

Molly froze, a bite halfway to her mouth. She put the spoon back on her plate. “Martha’s wrong.” She shoved away the plate in front of her.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to ruin your appetite.”

She stood and carried her plate to the sink, scraping the remains of the cake and ice cream down the disposal and tossing the plate into the trash.

“You didn’t. I want to thank you for coming today. It meant a lot to Sara to have you and Martha here. And the dollhouse is a wonderful gift. Too expensive, of course, but I can’t make her return it. It would break her heart.”

“Return it? Of course not!” he exclaimed, alarmed at the thought.”

“Well, thank you.” She stood, staring at him, and he realized she was waiting for him to leave.

“You’re welcome. And I have a bargain to make with you.” He wasn’t sure she’d agree, but something insisted he try.

“A bargain?”

“Yeah. I’ll stay and put the dollhouse together, if you’ll feed me more chicken casserole when I’m finished.”

“Oh, no, that’s too big an imposition!” she exclaimed.

“Are you kidding? I’ll enjoy myself, and I know you don’t have time to put it together with everything you have to do for Sunday.”

“Sara can wait for her dollhouse until next week,” Molly protested, her jaw squaring. “It will teach her patience.”

He cleared his throat. She wasn’t going to make this easy. “Patience is important to learn, but I feel responsible since I got her the dollhouse. Consider it part of my gift.”