A Vow for Christmas by Linda Carroll-Bradd

Author:Linda Carroll-Bradd [Carroll-Bradd, Linda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781940546285
Publisher: Inked Figments
Published: 2019-11-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

As was their routine, after supper Chad moved the kids into the sitting room. Without the task of cleaning the kitchen, he could spend more time with them. Tonight, they wanted to use the wooden blocks to build a fort. Mostly, Guinie wanted to knock down the structure before it reached more than four blocks tall. With practiced negotiation, Chad convinced her to let her brother keep his fort standing for five minutes then he would help her build a house she could demolish. Afterward, he cuddled them at his sides on the rug and asked about their day.

“We played with the doggie.” Guinie snuggled close.

“I liked mixing the clootie.” Lance crimped his fingers. “We used our hands, and it was all goopy.”

“Sounds fun, although a bit different.” He never envisioned cooking lessons, but their smiles proved they hadn’t missed him too much. So, in that respect, the marriage was the right thing. “Time to go upstairs and get ready for bed.”

Guinie sat up and rubbed a fist in her eye. “Stories, too?”

“Just like every night.” Chad rolled to his hands and knees then pushed upright. With a hand resting on each child’s head, he steered them toward the staircase.

Vika emerged from the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel. She stood with a shoe bracing open the door and gazed at the children. “Oh, yer taking up the wee ones? So soon?”

Her widened gaze reminded him she didn’t know their routine. “We play a bit down here then go up to their room for stories after they’re in pajamas.”

Her shoulders sagged. “I see.” She twisted the towel.

“Do you want to join us?” Of course, she expected to be included in their activities. Why didn’t he word the question with more tact?

Sighing, she glanced between him and the children. “Maybe I’ll sit by the fire and knit a while.” She looked over her shoulder and snapped her fingers. “Trobhad!”

The dog trotted from the kitchen, tail wagging.

Chad herded the kids up the stairs. A final glance before he turned toward their room confirmed Vika sat in the rocker with yarn and needles in her hands. Was the fact she worked with yarn a sign they shared common interests? Fayth never asked about the sheep or the wool that comprised their livelihood. Shaking off those thoughts, he make fast work of changing Guinie’s diaper then ran the children through their nightly ritual of putting on pajamas, hanging their outerwear on wall pegs, and tossing their drawers and chemise in the wicker hamper. “What story do you want tonight?”

“Camylot.” Guinie bounced on her knees on the bed.

Biting back a sigh, Chad settled himself on a chair between their beds and launched into one of the versions he paraphrased of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table—the stories Fayth told Lance every night. As he wrapped up the tale, he heard a rustling of cloth and saw Vika lingering in the doorway. Her gaze clung to his, and a smile curled the edges of her lips…lips that had the most enticing dip on the top line.

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