Whirlwind by Cathy Marie Hake Read Free Book Online Page A

suppose it’ll be filling. You know Frank.” Isabelle gave her husband an adoring look. “He always finds the bright spot.”
    Millicent laughed. “If the devil walked by, Frank would find something nice about him.”
    “I heard that.” Frank shook his finger at her.
    “I’m sorry, Frank.” Millie didn’t bother to smother a smile. “You would have told him we’re short on silverware and talked him out of his pitchfork.”
    The lanky youth laughed. Several others snickered.
    No privacy. Isabelle’s concern rushed through Millicent’s mind. Manners and propriety dictated that everyone ignore the conversations of others. Such constraints were ridiculous in this situation.
    “Fairweather!” a man bellowed from the doorway. Millicent turned toward him. Because Frank stood in the way, all she could see were the cuffs of a uniform and her letter of recommendation.
    Arthur’s diaper drooped low on his hips. Like a little savage in a breechclout, Arthur wore only that scrap of cloth. The gown he’d been wearing now sat in a soggy mess with Daniel’s shirt in the washbasin. Dressed in a fresh shirt, Daniel didn’t dare pick him up. At this rate, he’d have to ask Mr. Tibbs to do laundry right away. Otherwise, he and Arthur would both be as naked as heathens by tomorrow night. “Son, come here.”
    Arthur took the bunny’s ear out of his mouth. “No!” The minute Daniel stood, Arthur spun around and streaked away, ducking beneath the table. Daniel lunged for him.
    Miss Fairweather knew how to handle his son. Her former boss had given a glowing endorsement of the loving care she’d lavished on his daughters. Still, she was young and pretty and unmarried—all huge drawbacks in this situation. But Arthur’s needs rated above any other consideration. Simply put, he’d found himself incapable of caring for his son, and a child’s safety and survival counted far more important than the sordid and untrue suppositions people might form about Daniel and the hired help.
    “Arthur, come out of there.” Daniel dropped to his knees, shoved the tablecloth aside, and made a mad grab. Attached to the bunny as Arthur had become, the silly pillowslip animal would draw him right back out.
    The door opened. Simultaneously the tablecloth swished back down, Daniel hit his head on the edge of the table, and his fingers captured a wisp of cloth.
    “Excuse me, sir. You instructed me to bring Miss Fairweather straight in without knocking.”
    Resisting the urge to rub the back of his head, Daniel rose. The only thing salvaging his dignity was that he’d outsmarted Arthur. Any second now, Arthur would reappear and beg for Bunny. “Yes, I did, Tibbs. Thank you. Miss Fairweather, do come in. Tibbs, place her luggage in the nursery.”
    Tibbs did so and left. Miss Fairweather cleared her throat. “Do you need some assistance?”
    “Arthur will be out in just a moment.” Staring at the hem of the tablecloth, he held Bunny aloft for Miss Fairweather to see. Surely, she’d appreciate his clever solution to Arthur’s misbehavior. Suddenly Arthur shot out and Miss Fairweather caught him. Arthur clutched Bunny.
    Daniel refused to look at what he, himself, held.
    “I’ll pop that nappy on him.” Miss Fairweather laid Arthur on his back on the floor while she spoke. Her black wool traveling skirts pooled about her as she knelt and reached for the nappy Daniel held. He watched in fascination as the woman unpinned his woeful arrangement, created a similar, far neater composition, and pinned it in place. Arthur wiggled the whole time, but it didn’t seem to bother her in the least. “There you go!”
    Arthur stood, curled his tiny toes into the carpet, and swiveled his shoulders from side to side. Gleefully, he cradled his rabbit against his chest. “My Buddy!”
    Could a one-and-a-half-year-old child gloat? Daniel didn’t know. Arthur seemed more delighted than boastful. There’s so much I don’t know about my son.
    Miss