Finders Keepers Part 7

"I'm not going to apologize for the fact that I caught you with your guard-and your pants-down," he said, unable to resist the gentle thrust.

Molly's mouth formed a perfect O. He didn't give her time to decide whether it was from indignation or admiration. Before she knew it, he'd straightened, winked, and was gone, slamming the front door behind him.

She looked up at the ceiling, trying very, very hard not to grin, and lost the war with herself. She slid her fingers across her mouth, testing their texture, almost expecting them to have changed shape from the fire of his touch. But they were still there. Only one thing was different.

She couldn't seem to wipe the smile off her face.

"Oh, rats!" Molly watched helplessly as the orange she'd just dropped rolled beneath the kitchen table and out of her reach. As stiff and sore as she was, leaving it there was definitely an option to consider.

She was in the middle of a debate with herself about the wisdom of getting down on her hands and knees when the doorbell rang. She glanced at her watch, noting that it was nearly noon, and fully expected to see either Cora or Harry as she answered the door.

"Joseph!" She knew the expression on her face was silly. She could tell by the matching one on his own.

"I brought lunch." He waved a sack beneath her nose as he let himself inside.

"Good," she said, inhaling the tempting aroma of burgers and fries. "Today I can be easily had."

Joseph wiggled his eyebrows in a creditable imitation of Groucho Marx, unaware that his dimple completely neutralized any hint of lechery he might be trying to imply. "Exactly what can I have for a"-he set the sack on the kitchen table and peered inside-"cheeseburger and fries?"

"My undying grat.i.tude," Molly said, "and a promise not to put out a contract on your life if you keep your mouth shut about yesterday."

The mention of yesterday and what had occurred sobered him instantly. The entire episode had kept Joseph up most of the night. But it wasn't from worry, it was from want. He'd been haunted by the fact that he'd held her naked in his arms, dried and dressed her as if she were a child, and tried to pretend it had all been done in the name of neighborly duties. The last d.a.m.n thing he'd been feeling like when he'd left her alone was a Good Samaritan. He'd felt a whole lot more like an unsatisfied Peeping Tom.

"It's a deal," he said softly.

"I have one other request," Molly said, and unintentionally leaned toward him. "There's something I need from you."

Joseph caught his breath. Whatever was on her mind was all right with him.

"What is it, Molly?" he asked softly.

She pointed under the table with her toe. "Will you?"

"Will I what, honey?" he repeated, and traced the lower edge of her lip with his thumb as he imagined the effort it would take to crawl beneath that table with her. Imagining that it would be well worth the effort to try.

"Pick up my orange."

"Orange? You want me to pick up an orange?"

Molly grinned at the look of blank confusion on his face. "I dropped it just before you came. I was debating with myself about whether or not I could get up if I got down. I don't think I want to test the theory, especially since you've arrived. So..."

He knelt, crawled under the table, and retrieved the orange without further comment, handed it to her straight-faced, and asked, "Do you want ketchup on your fries?"

"Please."

The meal began and ended with the scent of orange permeating the air between them.

Joseph sighed, full of food and satisfied with the company as he wadded the wrapper from his burger and began collecting the rest of the refuse from the table. He could tell from watching Molly's face during their impromptu meal that moving was still very painful.

He leaned across the table and swiped at a bit of ketchup on the corner of her mouth with the edge of a napkin, then resisted the urge to sweep her into his arms.

"How do you feel today?"

She tilted her face, accepting his ministering touch as her due. "As Harry would say, sore as a boil. And I didn't sleep worth a darn last night."

Me either, Joseph thought. But not for the same reasons.

Silence hung heavily between them. His eyes were dark, the gaze intense. She stared down at his hands and for a moment, remembered how gently he'd lifted her from the tub. And then she looked back up at his face, centering on the curve of his mouth, and remembered the kiss they'd shared, and knew that it wasn't enough. She wanted more.

"Molly?"

The question was in his eyes as well as on his lips. She inhaled sharply, uncertain whether or not to voice what was in her heart, when the phone rang and interrupted the mood of the moment. It rang again, and then again, and finally Joseph moved.

"Eden residence," he said, then turned and handed Molly the phone. "It's Cora, for you."

From a distance, Joseph admired the competence with which Molly dealt with her business, and wished that he could deal with the feelings inside himself as easily. He wanted Molly Eden to look at him as more than a next-door neighbor. He also wanted her to see him as more than Joey's father. But Joseph didn't know if he was going to get what he wanted. Whether she knew it or not, their future was in Molly's hands.

When she had finished her conversation, he hung up the phone, then stuffed the trash into the garbage and washed and dried his hands without saying a word. Molly was the one to break the silence. And when she did, it was nothing more than a groan.

"Oohh." She tried to smile through pain as she pulled herself to her feet. "This will teach me to watch where I walk."

Joseph scooped her into his arms and then stood in the middle of the kitchen floor, ignoring the look of shock on her face.

"Where do we go from here?" he asked. "To the living room, the backyard, or-"

"How about to bed," Molly said.

"Sounds good to me," Joseph whispered, and watched with delight at the way her cheeks turned pink.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," she said.

He grinned. "I had a feeling I wasn't going to be included in this invitation. But...it never hurts to hope," he said.

Molly pointed toward the back of the house. "You know the way," she said. "Just drop me anywhere in the vicinity of the mattress. I'll take it from there."

Joseph carried her through the house without speaking, set her in the middle of her bed, and then leaned forward, piercing her with a stare that sent s.h.i.+vers of excitement and promise threading through her system.

"Lady, this is the last time I put you in bed alone," he said softly. "Next time I have no intentions of leaving. You'd do well to remember that, okay?"

She shuddered, swallowed a lump in her throat, and nodded. There was little left to say. And moments later, she heard the front door slam. She was left with nothing but the memory of his warning and the look on his face when he'd told her good-bye.

Five.

For once, the day-care center was quiet, but only because the children were outside on the playground. Even then, Lila Forshee could hear a subdued version of their squeals and shrieks as they played.

Out of habit, she went to the window, just to make sure that the noises she was hearing were those of delight. The children were everywhere, flitting from swing to slide and back again like tiny windup dolls. For a moment, she just watched, thankful for having a job she loved so much, and then suddenly frowned as she noticed the change in the sky.

When the children had gone out to play, it had been the white-hot blue of an Oklahoma summer day. Now it was shaded in dark, somber colors and overcast with a skirt of boiling clouds. From their appearance, the low overhang of dark gray clouds could unload their moisture at any minute.

She spun from the window and switched on her radio, quickly tuning it to a weather station. As she'd suspected, storm warnings were in the area. It was past time to get the children inside, although she knew they were going to object. Playtime at the center was their favorite time of the day.

As she ran outside to call them in, she heard the first of a series of low, angry rumbles from the overhead clouds.

"Bring the children inside immediately," she called. "We're under a storm warning."

In the beginning, the children's objections were loud, but they didn't last long. When the first drops of rain began to fall, they scrambled off of the playground equipment without any fuss and made a dash for the door like a covey of little quail heading for the protection of their mother's wing.

Lila grinned at their shrieks of delight as the raindrops began to land on their heads and faces. She stood in the doorway, holding the door ajar as the kids and the helpers scrambled inside; she shouted another encouragement to the group in the farthest corner of the playground, urging them to hurry as well, because the storm was nearly upon them. But no sooner had she called than she realized the panic on the playground had put one of the children in danger.

"Oh, no!"

Lila started out the door, aware that no matter how fast she ran, she would not get to the child in time to stop his fall. "Tracy! Stop the child on the slide!"

Her shout got the attention of one of her helpers who was herding the remaining children toward the door. The a.s.sistant reacted in much the same manner as Lila had done. But they could already tell that they would not be in time to stop the fall. The child was already on an ill-fated move.

Joey had been frightened by the wind. And when the children's giggles and shrieks increased to fever pitch as the first drops of rain fell upon them, he panicked. Sliding down the slide would have been faster and simpler. But he was far too young to reason. Instinct sent him back the way he'd come. He was struggling to retrace his steps back down the ladder when he caught his toe.

For a long moment, he teetered on the edge, trying desperately to catch himself. But his arms were too short, and his strength not enough to stop the sway of his body. He fell through the air without making a sound, leaving them all with the last impression of his outstretched arms and the look of disbelief upon his face.

And then he hit the ground.

Lila cried out, then fear lent speed to her steps. It seemed to take forever, but it was in fact only seconds before she reached his side.

"Call 911," she shouted as she leaned over the child and began tracing his tiny body for obvious signs of broken bones.

The young a.s.sistant raced toward the office as Lila knelt in the rain-splattered yard beside the child. Touching his forehead, she winced at the flow of blood welling from a cut at his hairline, as well as the awkward angle at which he was lying. He looked like a little broken doll.

Lila was afraid to pick him up. "Joey, darling...where do you hurt?"

The child moaned, then slowly, and to her immense relief, opened his eyes and looked up. His expression was dazed, his eyes full of pain and of shock as he crawled out of the dirt and into Lila's lap. While she was happy that he had moved of his own volition, she was not surprised when he suddenly burst into tears.

"Want my Daddy," he cried, and then stuck his thumb into his mouth and began to sob.

She lifted him into her arms and made it inside the office just as the deluge unloaded. Rain came down in blinding sheets, but Lila didn't notice. She was too busy trying to stem the flow of blood running down the child's face.

"Bring me some ice," she yelled as she ran to the washroom, "and call Joseph Rossi's office. Tell him to meet us at Saint Anthony's emergency room. And get the rest of the children out of here. The last thing I need is for all of them to go into hysterics."

Within minutes, an ambulance had arrived, and a paramedic began his examination of Joey while questioning Lila about the accident.

"I didn't want to move him after he fell," she said, "but he moved himself and crawled into my lap. That was when we came inside and called you."

The medic nodded. "Children are very resilient," he said. "I've seen kids fall from second-story windows and wind up with nothing more serious than a black eye." His tone lowered and the seriousness of Joey's possible injuries made them all take notice. "I've also seen them die from nothing more than a fall off a bed." Then he added. "Who's responsible for this child?"

Lila answered. "I am. I'm legally allowed to have first aid rendered to any of the children here. But his father's office is near. I've instructed him to meet us at the hospital."

And then Tracy came running back into the room where Joey was being examined.

"Mrs. Forshee, Mr. Rossi's secretary is unable to reach him! She said he went out on a job site and didn't take his pager. She has no way of contacting him until he calls in."

Lila groaned as the paramedics began rolling Joey toward the waiting ambulance, and then she remembered.

"Call Molly Eden. Her name and number are on Joey's records. Tell her to meet us at Saint Anthony's and then keep calling Mr. Rossi's office. Do you hear me?"

Tracy nodded as the doors closed behind the child who was being wheeled away to the waiting ambulance.

Molly wiped her hands and then stretched her aching back. Sometimes standing was as tiresome as running a mile, and she'd been filling orders all afternoon.

Harry, if you've got the last of the flowers in water, would you mind holding down the fort for a while? I think I'll take an early afternoon and go by the flower market. I got a call from the rep earlier. There's a new s.h.i.+pment of pottery in the warehouse and we're nearly out."

Harry nodded, but felt compelled to add, "No problem, but do you really think you should go out? That storm cloud looks pretty fierce."

She looked out the window and shrugged. "Did Gary England say it was a tornado watch, or a tornado warning?"

Harry grinned. No self-respecting citizen of Oklahoma got nervous until their premier weatherman told them it was time to panic. "Just a watch," he answered.

"Then I'm gone," she said. "This time of year, every other cloud in the state is a storm watch. I don't worry until they update them to warnings."

"Spoken like a true Okie," Harry said.

The phone rang, breaking the mood of the moment, and Harry picked it up on the third ring.

"Garden of Eden," he said, and then frowned. "Molly, it's for you. Sounds serious-it's someone from your neighbor's day-care center."

Molly's heart thumped twice in rapid succession as she hurried to answer the phone. It had been nearly a week since the kiss and what she laughingly called her "fall from lack of grace." And in that time, she'd been wooed by the best. There were blue crayon pictures from Joey that she'd hung with pride on her refrigerator door and a goodly number of heart-stopping kisses that Joseph Rossi had stolen without asking. Although, to be fair, not once had Molly objected to the thefts.

"This is Molly Eden." Her smile disappeared. She paled, then turned a lighter shade of pale as she listened. "I'll be right there. In the meantime, keep trying his office."

She slammed down the phone, her hands trembling as she struggled to write down a set of instructions for Harry to relay to Joseph should he call here instead of the center, and then made a run for her jacket and purse.

"What?" Harry asked. "Is it bad news?"

She shook her head. "It sounds like it. All they said was Joey fell," she said. "But the ambulance is already on the way to Saint Anthony's with him, and they can't locate Joseph. I have to go."

"Call me," Harry said, then frowned as the raindrops outside turned into a wall of blowing water. "And for G.o.d's sake, drive carefully," he ordered.

And then she was gone, and Harry stared blindly at the rain and the wind, and knew that the storm outside was nothing to the one inside Molly Eden's heart. Whether she realized it or not, her reaction to this news had given her away. Her relations.h.i.+p with Joseph Rossi had obviously gone way past neighborly.

Marjorie Weeks was in a panic. Joseph's pager was on the desk in his office. Because of that, she had no way to contact him and inform him of his son's accident, nor did she imagine, from the looks of the weather outside, that he'd be calling in any time soon. He hadn't answered his car phone, he didn't have the pager, she didn't know what to do.

She paced the floor, trying to think of an alternative plan, when the second phone call came from the center informing her that Molly Eden had been located and was en route to the hospital.