Brenda Harlen – Building The Perfect Daddy (страница 4)

Lauryn unfolded the page and immediately began skimming the document, her brows furrowing. She finished reading and set the page down. “Well, it’s all true,” she admitted. “Except that I didn’t send this in.”

He pointed to the signature box. “That’s not you?”

“It’s my name—and a pretty good replica of my signature, which leads me to believe that one or both of my sisters filled out the application.”

He winced. “The application is a contract, so I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you say that, then my director won’t want to get our legal department involved.”

“Can’t you just tell him that I changed my mind?” she suggested hopefully.

“I don’t understand,” he admitted. “Most people would be thrilled by the prospect of a brand-new kitchen.”

She looked around the dull and outdated room. “Rob had plans for this space—new cabinets, granite counter, ceramic floor.”

“We can certainly consult with your husband about the design,” he offered, attempting to appease her.

She shook her head. “He’s not here.”

“When will he be back?”

“Well, he left nine months ago, so I don’t expect him to return anytime soon.”

“I’m sorry,” he said automatically.

“Don’t be,” she said. “I’m not.”

He took a moment to regroup and reconsider his strategy. “Then forget about his plans,” he urged. “What do you want?”

Lauryn stood up to lift the now-fussing baby from his playpen. “I don’t even know where to begin to answer that question.”

Opening a cupboard, she took a cookie out of a box. The little guy reached for it eagerly and immediately began gnawing on it.

Kylie returned to the kitchen, walking past the table to the back door, where she shoved her feet into a pair of pink rain boots.

“I told you we could go to the park later,” Lauryn reminded her daughter. “You’re supposed to be playing in your room now.”

The little girl nodded. “But it’s wainin’ in the castle.”

Her mother frowned. “What do you mean ‘it’s raining in the castle’? The rain is outside, honey.”

This time Kylie shook her head. “The wain’s on my bed.”

Lauryn pushed back her chair and, with the baby propped on her hip, raced down the narrow hallway and up the stairs.

Instinctively, Ryder followed.

She stood in the doorway of what was obviously her daughter’s bedroom, staring at the water dripping from the ceiling onto the little girl’s bed. And puddling beside her tall dresser. And in front of her closet.

Her bottom lip trembled as she fought to hold back the tears that now filled her eyes.

“Why’s it wainin’ inside, Mama?” Kylie asked.

“Because it wasn’t a crappy enough day already,” her mother muttered in weary response.

The little girl gasped. “You said a bad word.”

“Yes, I did,” she admitted.

“Where’s your attic access?” Ryder asked her.

“My bedroom,” she told him.

He followed her across the hall. She reached for the loop of white rope in the ceiling. Of course, even on tiptoe, her fingertips barely brushed the rope. He easily reached up to grasp the handle and pull down the stairs.

She looked up into the yawning darkness overhead. “I can’t remember the last time I was up there,” she admitted. “I don’t even know if there’s a light.”

Even if there was, there was also water coming into the house and Ryder wasn’t willing to take a chance on forty-year-old wiring. Instead, he pulled the flashlight from his tool belt, switched on the beam and began his ascent.

It was a fairly typical attic—with a wide-planked floor over the joists of the ceiling below so that he didn’t have to worry about where he stepped. A tiny window at each end illuminated dust and cobwebs along with various boxes and some old furniture. He lifted the beam of light to the ceiling and noted the distinct wet patches that showed him where the rain was coming in.

He walked back to the access and called down to Lauryn. “Can you get me some old towels and buckets?”

“I only have one bucket,” she told him.

“Wastebaskets or big pasta pots would work.”

She nodded and disappeared to gather the required items while he continued his inspection of the attic ceiling.

“Why’s it wainin’ in the castle?”

The little voice, so unexpected and close behind him, made Ryder start.

“How did you get up here?” he demanded.

“I comed up the ladder,” Kylie told him.

“I’m not sure your mom would want you climbing up ladders when she’s not around.”

“Why’s it wainin’ in the castle?” she asked again, a little impatiently this time.

“There’s a hole in the roof,” he explained, shining the light to show her where the water was coming in. “Actually, a few holes.”

“You fix it?”

“Yeah, I can fix it,” he said, and was rewarded with a smile that lit up the dim space and tugged at his heart.

“Kylie?” her mother shouted out from below, her voice panicky. “Kylie—where are you?”

“She’s with me,” Ryder called down, taking the little girl’s hand to lead her back to the stairs.

Though Kylie had bravely made the climb up, the sudden death grip on his hand as they approached the opening warned him that she wasn’t so keen about going down again.

“Do you want me to carry you?” he asked her.

Eyes wide, she nodded quickly.

Her arms immediately went around his neck when he scooped her up. And in that moment, that quickly, he fell for this brave and terrified little girl who so openly and willingly placed her trust in him.

Lauryn was reaching for her daughter even before he hit the last step, simultaneously hugging her tight and chastising her for disappearing. Ryder left her to that task while he picked up the items she’d gathered and returned to the attic.

It didn’t take him long to direct the water from the various points of origin into the bucket and pots she’d supplied. Of course, that would only contain the rain, not stop it from coming in, but it was the best he could do for now.

When he came back downstairs, the baby had fallen asleep in his crib, Kylie was dressed and Lauryn was tying a ribbon in her daughter’s hair. The puddles in the little girl’s room had been mopped up, and plastic bowls put in place to capture any more water that leaked through.

Ryder took a moment to look around the room and appreciate the detailed painting on the walls that he’d barely noticed earlier. “Did you do this?”

Lauryn shook her head. “My sister did.”

“It’s incredible,” he said.

“Jordyn is incredibly talented.” She looked worriedly at the ceiling, where a dragon flew in the sky above the castle walls.

“It won’t take much to touch up after the roof is fixed.”

She nodded, though she didn’t look reassured.

In fact, she looked as if she had the weight of the enormous dragon—and entire fairy-tale kingdom—resting on her narrow shoulders.

Damn, but he’d always been a sucker for a damsel in distress. And this damsel had a lot more distress than she seemed to be able to handle right now.