Mischief in Miracle Cove by Mary Manners

Author:Mary Manners [Manners, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sweet Dreams Publications
Published: 2019-10-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

“MAMA, LOOK.” TATE JABBED A finger at the bay window, leaving prints. “There’s a pond.”

“I see it.” Delaney cringed at the smudged glass, but Jake didn’t seem to mind.

Tate leaned in and breathed on the window, fogging the glass. “Does it have fish, Jake?”

“You bet it does.” Jake stepped over and placed his hands on Tate’s shoulders, squeezing gently.

“Can I go watch them swim?”

“If it’s okay with your mom.”

“Can I, Mama?” Tate turned to Delaney and tugged at her cardigan. “Can I, please?”

“Sure, honey. But you have to bundle up.” She handed him his Titan’s jacket. It had quickly become his favorite. “The sun’s out, but it’s still a bit cool.”

“I’ll grab some chairs and a blanket.” Jake motioned toward the fridge. “Can you make a few sandwiches, Delaney? We’ll have a picnic.”

“Sure I can. That sounds nice.”

“Make yourself at home. I’ll get the cooler, too. We can load everything into the back of the truck and ride down to the pond together.”

“Good idea.” Delaney glanced at Tate, whose cheeks were a bit sallow. He’d slept in later than usual that morning and was more sluggish than he’d been the past week or so. His system was wearing down. Dr. Garrison warned her that this would happen, in time.

“You want something to drink, Tate?”

“Does Jake have apple juice?”

“I sure do, buddy.” Jake grabbed a plastic cup from the cabinet above the sink. “You told me you like it, right?”

“Uh-huh.” Tate nodded and climbed into a chair at the kitchen table. “’Course I did.”

“Well, I added it to my grocery list.” Jake grabbed a carton of juice from the fridge and filled the cup before handing it to Tate. “Would you like some, too?” he asked Delaney.

“No, thanks.” She shook her head, her heart swelling. “But it was nice of you to think of Tate like that, Jake.”

“No problem. I want him—and you, too, Delaney— to be comfortable here.”

“We are.” The house was surprisingly modest— not at all what Delaney expected. It sat on twelve acres of land, according to Jake, and had been in his mother’s family for several generations. The wrap-around porch practically begged for company, and Delaney imagined the double swing had seen its share of action over the years. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Jake set the carton of juice on the counter and slipped into his jacket. He headed toward the door leading out to the garage. “Now, I’ll just go get those chairs and load them into the truck. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” Delaney opened the refrigerator to return the apple juice and found it stocked with all of Tate’s favorite foods. She forced back the lump in her throat as she drew out a deli tray, mustard and mayo. “Turkey or ham?” She asked Tate as she opened a loaf of wheat bread.

“Peanut butter.”

“Um…okay.” She spied a jar on the counter beside the toaster. “With jelly?”

“Uh-huh. Grape. And one of those cookies.” Tate pointed. A bag of Oreos lay open on the kitchen table. “They look good.

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