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His hands had balled into fists at his sides. "Put her down."
"I'll kill her." She said it more calmly this time, having centered on
it. "I'll slit her throat, I swear it, and then my own. Can you live
with that, Brian?"
"She's bluffing," Johnno muttered, but his palms were sweating.
"I've got nothing to lose. Do you think I want to live like this?
Raising a brat all on my own, having the neighbors gossip about me?
Never being able to go out and have fun anymore. You think about it,
Bri, think about what the papers will do when I call in the story. I'll
tell them everything right before I kill us both."
"Miss Palmer." Peter held up a soothing hand. "I give you my word we'll
come to an arrangement that suits everyone."
"Let Johnno take Emma into the kitchen, Jane. We'll talk." Brian took a
careful step toward her. "We'll find a way to do what's best for
everyone."
"I only want you to come back."
"I'm not going anywhere." Braced, he watched her grip relax. "We'll
talk." He signaled Johnno with a slight nod of the head. "We'll talk it
all through. Why don't we sit down?"
Reluctantly, Johnno pried the girl from her mother. A fastidious man,
he wrinkled his nose a little at the grime she'd acc.u.mulated under the
sink, but carried her into the kitchen. When she continued to cry, he
sat down with Emma on his lap and patted her head.
"Come on now, cutie, give over. Johnno won't let anything bad happen to
you." He jiggled her, trying to think what his mother might have done.
"Want a biscuit?"
Damp-eyed, hiccuping, she nodded.
He jiggled some more. Under the tears and dirt, he decided she was a
taking little thing. And a McAvoy, he admitted with a sigh. A McAvoy
through and through. "Got any we can pinch?"
She smiled then, and pointed to a high cupboard.
Thirty minutes later, they were finis.h.i.+ng up the plate of biscuits and
the sweet tea he'd brewed. Brian watched them from the kitchen doorway
as Johnno made faces so that Emma giggled. When the chips were down,
Brian thought, you could always depend on Johnno.
Going in, Brian ran a hand down his daughter's hair. "Emma, would you
like to ride in my car?"
She licked crumbs from her lips. "With Johnno?"
"Yeah, with Johnno."
"I'm a hit." Johnno popped the last biscuit into his mouth.
"I'd like you to stay with me, Emma, in my new house."
"Bri-',
He cut Johnno off, lifting a hand palm up. "It's a nice house, and you
could have your own room."
"I have to?"
"I'm your dad, Emma, and I'd like you to live with me. You could try
it, and if you're not happy, we'll think of something else."
Emma studied him, her full bottom lip pushed out in a pout. She was
used to his face, but it was different somehow from the pictures. She
didn't know or care why. His voice made her feel good, safe.
