glanced back at the TV, but her little mouth was working, as if she were trying to keep in the words. “Mommy gets mad sometimes.”
Chad grinned. “Yes, she does, darlin’. But most mamas do sometimes. It didn’t bother me. I’m used to getting yelled at.”
Her pretty green eyes, so like her mother’s, widened. “Why do you get in trouble?”
Sighing, he sat on the couch beside her. “Well, many reasons. I usually try to do good, but sometimes I get in trouble whether I want to or not.”
Nodding, she folded her legs Indian style. “Me too. Sometimes Mommy yells and I don’t know why.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I think it’s because Derek keeps bugging her.”
Chad nodded. “Probably,” he agreed just as softly. “Maybe sometime soon we can do something about that. Don’t worry about him.”
Her little head dropped down. “He keeps coming after me, but I don’t think he likes me.”
Cringing at the hurt he heard in her voice, Chad reached into his pocket, trying to lighten the mood. Unable to help himself, he pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head and handed her the candy. “I’ll let you have this if you don’t tell your momma I spoiled your lunch.”
Her tiny little fingers plucked the Smarties from his hand and curled them away. She looked up at him with a grin, bouncing on the cushion. “I won’t,” she whispered.
Chad left her sneaking little candies and watching cartoons. When he stood up from the couch, movement in his peripheral caught his attention. Lora was trying to fade away down the hallway. He followed after her as she retreated into the bedroom. “Did you hear?”
Her gaze darted from his, but she nodded. “Thank you for trying to ease her mind. I think sometimes I don’t realize how intense I get trying to be everything for her.”
“Well, you’ve done a good job up till now. And this is just a minor setback. We’ll try to get this mess untangled and then we’ll get you back on track.”
She folded her arms across her chest and he noticed she’d taken a shower. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but she had bangs over her forehead, covering the gash and bandage. What concerned him, though, was her wrist was not bandaged. He noticed the ace wrap on top of her dresser and started to straighten it. “You should wear this. It’ll help your arm heal faster.”
Pink tinged her pale cheeks. “I tried to wrap it but couldn’t get it to stay.”
He tossed the bandage out, letting it untwist. She tensed up but didn’t move away as he stopped in front of her. “Hold your arm out.”
She held it out thumb up, with her other hand cupped beneath it for support. Chad’s jaw clenched when he saw the bruising running up her pale arm. Fingerprints from her husband and from the strain itself. Dragging oxygen into his lungs, he fought for something to say. “Your daughter is a sweetheart.”
Some of the tension eased from her frame. “Yes, she is. She is my reason for life.”
“I can see that. And I think it’s mutual. She worries about you a lot.”
“I know,” she whispered. Her throat sounded tight.
Chad wrapped her arm as carefully as he could, uncomfortable that he was giving her a close-up look at his own damage. Only fair, I guess, considering .
She cleared her throat as he wound the bandage around and around her arm, and he knew what was coming. “What happened?”
He shrugged. “Iraq happened. I got burned in an explosion. Landmine.”
She cringed. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” He forced a grin. “You didn’t do it.”
She blinked as if she were caught off guard by the way he reacted to it but didn’t say anything more.
Just as he fastened the Velcro to the ace wrap, the doorbell rang. Chad made sure he got to the door first, peering through the peephole. Frank Norcross stood outside, tool belt slung low around his hips. Chad grinned as he tugged open the door and greeted the man.
Frank cringed when he saw the damage
Chad grinned. “Yes, she does, darlin’. But most mamas do sometimes. It didn’t bother me. I’m used to getting yelled at.”
Her pretty green eyes, so like her mother’s, widened. “Why do you get in trouble?”
Sighing, he sat on the couch beside her. “Well, many reasons. I usually try to do good, but sometimes I get in trouble whether I want to or not.”
Nodding, she folded her legs Indian style. “Me too. Sometimes Mommy yells and I don’t know why.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I think it’s because Derek keeps bugging her.”
Chad nodded. “Probably,” he agreed just as softly. “Maybe sometime soon we can do something about that. Don’t worry about him.”
Her little head dropped down. “He keeps coming after me, but I don’t think he likes me.”
Cringing at the hurt he heard in her voice, Chad reached into his pocket, trying to lighten the mood. Unable to help himself, he pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head and handed her the candy. “I’ll let you have this if you don’t tell your momma I spoiled your lunch.”
Her tiny little fingers plucked the Smarties from his hand and curled them away. She looked up at him with a grin, bouncing on the cushion. “I won’t,” she whispered.
Chad left her sneaking little candies and watching cartoons. When he stood up from the couch, movement in his peripheral caught his attention. Lora was trying to fade away down the hallway. He followed after her as she retreated into the bedroom. “Did you hear?”
Her gaze darted from his, but she nodded. “Thank you for trying to ease her mind. I think sometimes I don’t realize how intense I get trying to be everything for her.”
“Well, you’ve done a good job up till now. And this is just a minor setback. We’ll try to get this mess untangled and then we’ll get you back on track.”
She folded her arms across her chest and he noticed she’d taken a shower. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but she had bangs over her forehead, covering the gash and bandage. What concerned him, though, was her wrist was not bandaged. He noticed the ace wrap on top of her dresser and started to straighten it. “You should wear this. It’ll help your arm heal faster.”
Pink tinged her pale cheeks. “I tried to wrap it but couldn’t get it to stay.”
He tossed the bandage out, letting it untwist. She tensed up but didn’t move away as he stopped in front of her. “Hold your arm out.”
She held it out thumb up, with her other hand cupped beneath it for support. Chad’s jaw clenched when he saw the bruising running up her pale arm. Fingerprints from her husband and from the strain itself. Dragging oxygen into his lungs, he fought for something to say. “Your daughter is a sweetheart.”
Some of the tension eased from her frame. “Yes, she is. She is my reason for life.”
“I can see that. And I think it’s mutual. She worries about you a lot.”
“I know,” she whispered. Her throat sounded tight.
Chad wrapped her arm as carefully as he could, uncomfortable that he was giving her a close-up look at his own damage. Only fair, I guess, considering .
She cleared her throat as he wound the bandage around and around her arm, and he knew what was coming. “What happened?”
He shrugged. “Iraq happened. I got burned in an explosion. Landmine.”
She cringed. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” He forced a grin. “You didn’t do it.”
She blinked as if she were caught off guard by the way he reacted to it but didn’t say anything more.
Just as he fastened the Velcro to the ace wrap, the doorbell rang. Chad made sure he got to the door first, peering through the peephole. Frank Norcross stood outside, tool belt slung low around his hips. Chad grinned as he tugged open the door and greeted the man.
Frank cringed when he saw the damage
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