only to release it less than thirty seconds later. Without, it should be noted, passing a single other vehicle. But considering the don’t-mess slant to Silas’s mouth, she opted to let it go.
The moment they were out of the car, the Garretts’ white front door swung open to expel a pair of wide-eyed, agitated little boys. The younger one, a curly blond cherub of maybe four or so, made a beeline for his father and grabbed his hand.
“Gramma fell and hurt her foot!” he said, tugging him inside. “It’s huge! I gave her the phone so she could call you!”
“Did not!” the older boy said, his straight, wheat-colored bangs blowing every which way in the breeze as he smacked his younger brother’s shoulder.
“Did too—”
“Boys. Not now,” Silas said with the sort of quiet authority that makes a person go, Whoa. The little one now clinging to him like a koala, he shut the door and crossed to his mother, seated on the old blue sofa with her foot propped up, her graying red hair a distressed tangle around her very pale face. Jewel took one look and shook her head.
“Silas, go put a whole bunch of ice in a plastic bag and wrap it in a towel, bring it here. But no sense in me even examining it. The ice might take down the swelling some, but if that’s not a candidate for the x-ray machine, I don’t know what is.”
Donna simultaneously winced and sighed. “I don’t suppose it helps that I heard a cracking sound when I went down.”
“Not a good sign, no. Still …” Jewel carefully sat by the offending foot, nodding her thanks to Silas when he returned with the ice pack. “It might not be that bad,” she said, carefully cushioning Donna’s ankle in the ice pack before looking up at Silas, “but you should probably get her to the ER.”
“Yes, of course, absolutely. Okay, boys, go get in the car—”
“For goodness’ sake, Si,” Donna said. “They can’t go with us! Who knows how long it’ll take? Besides, an ER waiting room’s no place for children.”
“Like they’re both not on first-name basis with the staff already,” Silas said. Donna gave him a look. “Fine. But who’s gonna watch ‘em? Noah’s clear across town at the Mannings, Eli and Dad are in Santa Fe. We could drop them off at Jess’s, but that’s a good half hour out of our way—”
“Um, hello?” Jewel raised her hand. “I’d be happy to keep an eye on them.” She aimed a smile in the boys’ direction, only to be met with a pair of dubious frowns.
“See?” Donna said, her face contorting as she shifted her ample form to put her good foot on the floor. “The Good Lord provides.”
Silas’s gaze shot to Jewel’s. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea—”
“Nonsense. Oliver?” This in a strained voice to the straight-haired one. “Get my poncho from the closet, honey. And Tad, grab my purse off the table by the door. That’s right, sugars—bring ‘em to me—”
“I don’t want to stay with her!” The little one inched closer to Silas, his worried eyes nearly the same muddy green as his father’s. “What if she’s mean?”
Jewel gasped. “I’m not—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Donna said as Oliver dumped the well-worn, Peruvian-patterned poncho on the couch beside her, “Jewel helps deliver babies! She obviously loves children! Don’t you, honey?”
“You bet! And really, Silas, it’s no problem. I don’t have any appointments today or anything.” Although despite the generous amount of cheer she’d injected into the words—what with her lack of pressing obligation being momentarily convenient—overall this was not a good thing. As in, she had far too much free time on her hands and not nearly enough cash in them—
“So it’s settled,” Donna said. “You all can stay right here. Si, give me a hand—”
“But we can’t stay here!” Oliver put in, his dark brown eyes all watery. “It’s almost time to feed Doughboy!”
Oh, for pity’s sake …
Crouching in front of the child, Jewel smiled. “Tell you what—if it’s okay with your daddy, we can go to your house, and you can feed Doughboy—” who or whatever that was “—and if it gets late you can go right to sleep in your own beds. But before that,” she then said to Tad, tapping him on his nose, “we’re gonna have so much fun your daddy’s gonna be sorry he wasn’t with us!”
The boys shared a glance … then a shrug. Jewel couldn’t decide if that was good or not. Then her mouth fell open as Silas scooped his mother—who was by no means a frail little thing—into his arms, before, with no outward evidence of strain, carting her across the room and out the still open front door.
“My daddy’s strong, huh?” little curly-head said, grinning at Jewel with one of those sweet, baby-toothed grins designed to make a woman want to rush right out and fill her womb.
Especially when said womb had just been nicely primed by the sight of a good-looking man acting all manly and such. Silently cursing biological imperatives and what-not, Jewel took her little charges by the hand, deciding it was best all around if she not answer that question.
“You know,” Silas said to his mother many hours later on their way home from the hospital, “you seem awfully mellow for somebody with a broken ankle.”
Beside him, Donna released a half laugh. “That’s the pain meds.” She looked down at her foot, splinted to within an inch of its life. “Might be tricky to cook with this thing on. Your father will be beside himself.”
“I imagine he’ll live. Besides, that’s what the church ladies are for. After the thousands of casseroles you’ve made for everybody else over the years, they owe you.”
She laughed again, then sighed. “Shame I won’t be able to take care of the boys, though—”
“And don’t even think about that. Hey, if I have to, I’ll keep ‘em with me. It could work,” he said to his mother’s hoot of laughter.
“These are Ollie and Tad we’re talking about. Otherwise known as Thing One and Thing Two?”
“Thought you said they’d calmed down.”
“I lied.”
He glanced at his mother. “And you didn’t think to warn Jewel?”
“Gal has youth on her side. And resilience. She’ll be fine. But wasn’t it providential, how she was available to babysit? She’s a real sweetheart, that one. A real sweetheart.”
Oh, hell. “You know, you could at least try to be subtle. Next I’m gonna find out you deliberately broke your ankle just to further your matchmaking mission—hey. Everything okay?”
Donna nodded tightly. “Joy juice is wearing off, I suspect.”
“So take more.”
“Forget it. A flower child I may have been, but a druggie? Never. Damned if I’m about to start now. I’ll be fine,” she said, her chin lifting. “At least until we get home.”
Silas’s eyes again slid to his mother, the stress lines bracketing her mouth attesting to her no longer being the bottomless well of energy she’d once been. “Why didn’t you say something before? About the kids, I mean.”
A moment ticked by before she quietly said, “Because after what happened … those babies needed mothering. And since I was the only candidate … Oh, don’t get that look on your face, I’m only stating the facts. At least I was there to fill the gap.”
“Since I haven’t done anything to fill it myself.”
She shrugged. Woman could say more with a shrug than most women say in a thirty-minute conversation.