A boo-boo? Where in the hell had he come up with that?
“Bwoken.” Kara hiccupped. And just as quickly as her emotional storm had started, it was over. Tears hung on her lashes. Her breathing still hitched. But she was looking at him with questions in those big hazel eyes, not fear. Her red-gold curls bobbed as she threw her body downward, trying to get a closer look at the hole—he presumed.
Thankfully, he had a secure enough hold on her.
“What happened, Grant?” Darin came running over with Maddie, her legs seeming to stumble over themselves a bit, not far behind him. And Grant wanted to ask his brother what he was doing with Maddie and her little girl again.
“Bwoken,” Kara repeated, sounding important now as she showed the new arrivals what she’d discovered.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Bishop.” Maddie reached for the little girl, who went to her willingly. Putting Kara down, Maddie took the child’s hand. “This is why you don’t run ahead,” she said. “Because we don’t know what’s in the grass.”
True. Though not quite what he’d have said. All kids should be able to run through the grass barefoot. Shouldn’t they?
“Maddie and I just finished therapy and she picked up Kara from the day care and I was walking them partway home,” Darin explained, almost no child in his voice at all. “It’s my fault, Grant. I distracted Maddie and put the little girl at risk and I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Grant saw a bad evening coming on. “If anyone’s at fault it’s me,” he said. “I left the cover off and turned my back. You know it’s a rule never to do that.”
He’d turned to watch a beautiful woman who turned him on. Watched her until she’d completely disappeared from view.
“It was an accident, Darin,” he said.
“Are you hungry, Kara?” Maddie, looking college-campus cute in black leggings and a short T-shirt, her slim body almost perfectly proportioned, hadn’t taken her gaze from the little girl since she took her out of Grant’s arms. Her weight shifted from foot to foot and she was biting on her lower lip.
Grant had no idea what she was thinking. Or feeling.
But like a good mother, she was focused on her child.
“Yes!” Kara chortled with childish glee.
“We have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch today,” Maddie said, her expression so serious it almost hurt to watch her. Because she had to concentrate so hard to complete the simple mothering tasks?
Was that why Maddie lived at The Lemonade Stand? So the ladies there could help her watch Kara? Help raise Kara?
“It’s not your fault, Maddie.” Darin’s voice came out soft and slow. “You take excellent care of her, you know.” Innocence shone through every word. An inability to adjust his words to fit adult social mores, but an adult awareness of his surroundings.
Or something like that. “He’s right,” Grant said, taking his cue from Darin as he saw the look of guilt cross over his brother’s face. “The only big deal here is that I didn’t follow safety protocol when I turned my back on the opened hole. Kara should be allowed to run in the grass and there’s no way either of you could have known that the hole was uncovered.”
“Yeah, Maddie, Grant’s right. You couldn’t have known.”
Still watching Kara, Maddie nodded. “We have to go,” she said. “Come on, Kara.”
“Bye, Mister, and Dawin, see you soon I love you….” The little girl pulled Maddie toward the bungalows.
Maddie glanced up then. Once. At Darin. “Bye,” she said.
But never cracked a smile.
“I think she’s mad at me.” Darin’s gaze followed the other woman.
Grant, kissing extra work on his lunch hour goodbye as he realized he was going to have to accompany his brother to the cafeteria where he’d expected Darin to be already, bent to the grate and said, “She’s not mad at you, bro. She’s scared. Women get scared in times of crisis. You taught me that.”
The time he’d crashed his motorcycle out in front of their house, barely scratching either it or himself, and Shelley had come running out of the house, screaming, embarrassing the heck out of him in front of his friends.