said with a wistful sigh. She turned. “Come on, I’ll take you down to his room. Perhaps a diversion will improve his mood.”
“I really wouldn’t count on it,” Melody replied.
“I was afraid you were going to say that. Here we are.”
“Dad!” Guy exclaimed, running to his father as a practical nurse laid down a trail of fire getting out the door. “How are you?”
Emmett stared at his eldest blankly. His pale green eyes were bloodshot. His dark hair was disheveled. There was a huge bump on his forehead with stitches and red antiseptic lacing it. He was wearing a white patterned hospital gown and looking as if he’d like to eat half the staff raw.
“It’s almost noon,” he informed Melody. “Where in hell have you been? Get me out of here!”
“Don’t worry, Dad, we’ll spring you,” Guy promised, with a wary glance toward the nurse.
“You can’t leave today, Mr. Deverell,” the young nurse said apologetically. “Dr. Miller said that you must stay for at least forty-eight hours. You’ve had a very severe concussion. You can’t go walking around the streets like that. It’s very dangerous.”
Emmett glared at her. “I hate it here!”
The nurse looked as if she might bite through her tongue trying not to reply in kind. She forced a smile. “I’m sure you do. But you can’t leave yet. I’ll leave you to visit with your family. I’m sure you’re glad to see your wife and children.”
“She’s not the hell my wife!” Emmett raged. “I’d rather marry a pit viper!”
“I assure you that the feeling is mutual,” Melody said to the nurse.
The woman leaned close on her way out the door. “Dr. Miller escaped. When he comes back, I’ll beg on my knees for sedation for Mr. Deverell. I swear.”
“God bless you,” Melody said fervently.
“What are you mumbling about?” Emmett demanded when the nurse left. “And why haven’t these kids changed clothes? They smell of pizza and dirt!”
“They wouldn’t change,” she said defensively.
“You’re bigger than they are,” he pointed out. “Make them.”
She glanced at the kids and shook her head. “Not me, mister. I know when I’m outnumbered. I’m not going to end my days tied to a post imitating barbecue.”
“They don’t burn people at the stake,” he said with exaggerated patience. “That was just gossip about that lady motorist they kidnapped.”
“That’s right,” Polk said. “Gossip.”
“Anyway, she got loose before she was very singed.” Amy sighed.
Melody gave Emmett a speaking look. It was totally wasted.
“Are you really okay?” Guy asked his father. He, of the three children, was the most worried. He was the oldest. He understood better than they did how serious his father’s injury could have been.
“I’m okay,” Emmett said. His voice was different when he spoke to the children; it was softer, more tender. He smiled at Guy, and Melody couldn’t remember ever being on the receiving end of such a smile. “How about you kids?”
“We’re fine,” Amy told him. “Melody has a very nice apartment, Emmett. We like it there.”
“She has a cat,” Polk added. “He’s a big orange tabby named Alistair.”
“Alistair?” Emmett mused.
“He was a very ordinary-looking cat,” Melody said defensively. “The least he deserved was a nice name.”
He leaned back against his pillows and closed his eyes. “Saints deliver us.”
“I don’t think the saints like you very much, Mr. Deverell, on present evidence,” she couldn’t resist saying.
One bloodshot pale green eye opened. “The saints didn’t do this to me. It was a horse. A very nasty-tempered horse whose only purpose in life is to maim poor stupid cowboys who are dim enough to get on him. I let myself get distracted and I came off like a loose hat.”
She smiled gently at the description. “I’m sure the horse is crying his eyes out with guilt.”
The smile changed her. He liked what he saw. She was vulnerable when her eyes twinkled like that. He opened the other eye, too, and for one long moment they just looked at each other. Melody felt warning bells go off in her head.
“When can you come home, Emmett?” Amy asked, her big eyes on her father.
He blinked and looked down at her. “Two days they said,” he replied. “God, I’m sorry about this!” He glanced toward Melody. “I had no right to involve you in my problems.”
That sounded like a wholesale apology. Perhaps the head injury had erased his memory so that he’d forgotten her part in Adell’s escape.
“I don’t mind watching the children for you,” she said hesitantly. She pushed back her hair with a nervous hand. “They’re no trouble.”
“Of course not, they were asleep all night,” he replied. “Don’t let them out of your sight.”
“Aw, Dad,” Polk grumbled. “We’ll be good.”
“Sure we will,” Guy said. He glanced at Melody irritably. “If we have to.”
“It’s only for a day or two,” Emmett said. He was feeling foggier by the minute. “I’ll reimburse you, of course,” he told Melody. He touched his head with an unsteady hand. “God, my head hurts!”
“I guess it does,” Melody said gently. She moved closer to the bed, concerned. “Shall I call the nurse?”
“They won’t give me anything until the doctor authorizes it, and he’s in hiding,” he said. His eyes closed. “Can’t say I blame him. I was pretty unhappy about being here.”
“I noticed.”
He managed a weak chuckle. “If Logan had been at home, you wouldn’t be landed with those kids….”
He was asleep.
“Is he going to be okay?” Amy asked. She was chewing her lower lip, looking very young and worried.
Melody smoothed back her hair. “Yes, he’ll be fine,” she assured the girl. “Come on. We’ll go home and I’ll make lunch for all of you.”
“I want a hot dog,” Polk said. “So does Amy.”
“I hate hot dogs,” Guy replied. “I don’t want to stay with you. I’ll stay here with Dad.”
“You aren’t allowed to,” Melody pointed out.
He took an angry breath.
“I don’t like it any more than you do,” she murmured. “But we’re stuck with each other. We’d better go.”
They followed her out, reluctantly. She stopped long enough to assure the nurse at the desk that she’d bring the kids back the next day to visit their father. She was concerned enough to ask if it was natural for Emmett to go to sleep, and was told that the doctor would check to make sure he was all right.
Guy’s dislike of Melody extended to her apartment, her cat, her furniture and especially her cooking.
“I won’t eat that,” he said forcefully when she put hot dogs and buns and condiments on the table. “I’ll starve first.”
She knew that it would give him the upper hand if she stooped to arguing with him, so she didn’t. “Suit yourself. But we’ll have ice cream for dessert and you won’t. It’s a