First Lady (13 page)

“Here’s the turnoff for the covered bridge.” As Nealy made a left onto a narrow country road, she decided it might be best to change the subject. “Do you know why these were built, Lucy?”

“No, and I don’t care.”

“Some people say it was to keep horses from being spooked by the water, but it was probably done to protect the bridges from the elements so they’d last longer. Nobody knows for sure.”

“You’re a regular walking encyclopedia,” Mat drawled.

“I told you I have a photographic memory.” The baby’s howls of protest were getting louder.

“Then what did that sign we just passed say?”

“I wasn’t paying attention.”

“ ‘Jesus Saves,’ ” Lucy offered.

Mat ignored her. “What about the big sign at the campground office? Right next to the front door?”

“It didn’t interest me, so I didn’t bother to read it.”

Once again, the teenager piped up. “ ‘No open fires.’ ”

Nealy shot her a glare. “Don’t you have something better to do with your time?”

“No.” Lucy handed her sister an empty paper cup, but Button threw it to the floor with a yowl.

They rounded a bend and an old bridge came into view spanning a narrow ribbon of water at the bottom of a gentle hill. Built of weathered brown wood, it had a faded tin roof that might once have been painted red, and a pockmarked metal sign warning away vehicles over ten feet high. Even though this was West Virginia instead of Madison County, Iowa, the bridge was so picturesque she expected to see Clint Eastwood and Meryl Streep emerge from the dark interior. It was Americana at its very best, and she sighed. “Isn’t this wonderful?”

When neither of her traveling companions responded, she chose to believe the bucolic beauty had left them too moved to speak.

“Let’s stretch our legs.” She parked Mabel on the shoulder. “Lucy, you can get your sister.”

“She’s not poison, you know. The two of you could carry her once in a while.”

Nealy pretended not to hear.

“We’re not staying long,” Mat declared. “Two minutes, and then we’re heading for the highway.”

“Two minutes it is.” There was no way two minutes would do it.

Outside, everything was drowning in sunlight, and the warm, humid air carried the fragrance of dust, grass, and country road. The river was low, as if it hadn’t rained for a while, and the sounds were pure music: water lapping over rock, birdsong, the chirp of crickets and buzz of bees. On each side of the bridge a grassy bank covered with wildflowers sloped down to the water. Lucy set the baby in the grass.

“Gah!” She chortled and clapped her hands.

“It’s your turn to watch her.” Lucy took off for the interior of the bridge before Nealy could protest.

“Gah!” The baby made an unsuccessful lunge for a bumblebee.

“Watch it, Button. Those things aren’t friendly.”

“I thought her name was Marigold.” Coffee mug in hand, Mat emerged from the Winnebago.

“Lucy says her mother called her Button. Bring the quilt that’s in the back, will you? ” She probably wouldn’t stay on it, but it might keep her from getting too dirty.

Nealy hadn’t failed to notice that Lucy had bathed her early that morning. Sunlight glinted in her dandelion hair, and her worn clothes were clean. She found herself wondering if any of the National Merit Scholarship winners she’d hosted at the White House would have taken such good care of a pesky baby sister.

Mat reappeared with the quilt. Nealy took it from him and tossed it down on the slope. She set the baby on it, but Button immediately headed for the open range. Her overalls protected her from the prickly grass, and she grew entranced with a butterfly hovering over a clump of buttercups. She sped toward it, then settled back on her bottom to issue an indignant protest as it flew away.

Nealy sat on the quilt and was surprised when Mat sprawled down beside her. She sighed and breathed deeply, savoring every moment of this stolen summer day.

“I don’t usually get drunk, you know.”

She closed her eyes and tilted her face into the sun. “Uhm.”

“I mean it. I’m not much of a drinker.”

“Good, because I don’t think the girls should be exposed to that sort of thing.”

She opened her eyes and saw that he was watching her. Something in his gaze made her feel as if she were being bombarded with a shower of sparks. He took his time before he looked away.

“They were probably exposed to a lot more when Sandy was alive.”

Nealy realized she didn’t want to hear about Mat’s ex-wife, and she stood up. “Watch the baby, will you? I want to walk through the bridge.”

“Hey! You’re the nanny here, not me.”

“I’m taking a coffee break.”

Just like that, she left him behind and headed for the covered bridge. Mat glared at her back as she disappeared inside. It would serve her right if he dropped her off at the next truck stop and let her fend for herself. But he knew he wouldn’t do it. She might not be the devoted child-care provider of his dreams, but she was the best he had. She was also an enigma.

It was hard to reconcile that upper-crust, Presbyterian bearing with her abundant good nature and boundless, almost childlike enthusiasm. She certainly was entertaining. Or at least she’d entertained him yesterday. This morning’s hangover had pretty much put a damper on fun.

A flicker of movement caught his attention. Something pink. He looked up in time to see the Demon crawling backward down the grassy bank, heading directly for the river. His coffee flew as he threw down his mug and shot to his feet.

The baby was moving with lightning speed and fierce determination. The soles of his shoes slipped in the grass as he scrambled after her.

Without warning, her arms flew out and she began to slide. Her sneakers hit the water, and, a heartbeat later, the rest of her followed.

The river wasn’t high, but it was too deep for a baby, and he watched in horror as her blond head immediately disappeared. He lost his footing, righted himself, and waded in after her.

The water hit him just above the knees. It was muddy. Too muddy to see anything. Then he caught a flash of pink traveling in the current and grabbed for it.

She came up with open, startled eyes, arms and feet dangling. He’d caught her by the back straps of her overalls.

She blinked, gasped for air, then coughed. He set her in the crook of his arm while she got her breath back. As his own heartbeat tried to return to normal, he felt the muddy river bottom sucking at his shoes. He barely managed to pull them free as he made his way out of the water.

She finally stopped coughing. For a few seconds she was still, and then he felt her chest expand as she took a deep breath. He knew exactly what was coming and tried to forestall it.

“Don’t cry!”

Nell and Lucy were still inside the bridge, but he’d never hear the end of it if they found out he’d almost let the Demon drown. He looked down at the baby. River water dripped from her hair into her eyes. Her mouth was opening, her forehead puckering in outrage. The first chord of what was guaranteed to be a symphony of outrage began to emerge.

“Stop right there!” Shifting his hands so they were beneath her arms, he drew her up so she could look right in his eyes and know he meant business. “You just took a little water. It’s no big deal. You didn’t even come close to drowning.”

The fierce pucker between those two small eyebrows eased. Her eyes widened, and she released the breath she’d been holding.

“No big deal,” he said more quietly. “Got it?”

She stared at him.

Her pink overalls would never be the same, and she’d lost one of her sneakers. He quickly slipped off the other and pitched it into the trees.

Bickering female voices were coming from the covered bridge. Now he was in for it. He thought fast. “We’re going back in that water.”

“Gah?”

He stepped out of his own sodden shoes, returned her to the crook of his arm, and walked back into the river.

She buried her face in his shirt.

“Don’t be a pansy. ”

She looked up and gave him a four-tooth grin.

“That’s more like it, you little she-devil.”

But when he tried to lower her into the water, she stiffened and dug her fingers into his arm.

“Relax, will you? I’m not going to put your face in.”

“Nuh-nuh-nuh!”

It didn’t take a degree in child psychology to translate that one. He realized he was going to have to do this with her, just as he’d done it with all his sisters. With a sigh of resignation, he put her to his shoulder and sank down into the muddy river.

She drew back and beamed at him. Oh, man, she was going to be a killer someday, with those baby blues and melty smiles. “Yeah, yeah. Save it for somebody who cares.”

She smacked his jaw with the flat of her hand, then turned and smacked the water. It splashed in his face. He blinked it away and lowered her into the current.

“
What are you doing?
” Nell came charging out of the bridge, a pregnant commando wearing khaki shorts, a blue maternity top trimmed with daisies, and small white sandals. Tendrils of hair as golden brown as summer wheat flew around her flushed cheeks, and those amazing blue eyes, exactly the same color as the sky, were blazing. “Get the baby out of that dirty water right now!” She flew down the slope. “Children can get typhoid from river water!”

He glanced down at the Demon, who seemed to be having a pretty good time as long as he didn’t let her sink too low. “I don’t think typhoid is too common in West Virginia.”

Lucy emerged from the bridge and stared down at them.

Nell stopped at the edge of the river, hand to chest, face pale. He realized she was genuinely upset and wondered how she’d react if she knew he’d almost let the baby drown. “Will you calm down, for pete’s sake? She’s fine.”

“She’s fully dressed!”

“Yeah, well, I’m a guy. Guys don’t think about things like that.”

“
You’re
fully dressed!”

“The whole thing was sort of an impulse.”

She looked down at his muddy shoes lying on the bank. “I’ll say.”

He went on the offensive. “I slipped and got my shoes wet. Then I figured, what the hell?”

“She’s going to catch cold.”

“It’s got to be eighty.” He pulled the baby from the water and stood.

“
Nuh!
” She gave a shriek of protest, then began to twist, trying to get back in the water.

“Distract her, or you’re really in for it.” Lucy called down from the top of the slope.

Her shrieks were building in volume. “How am I supposed to do that?” he asked.

“She likes animal sounds, especially cows. Moo.”

He shot Lucy a disgusted look, then shoved the screaming baby toward Nell. “Here. Distract her.”

Nell clasped her arms behind her back and stepped away. “I don’t know how.”

The Demon’s fists were going everywhere and she’d started to kick.
Shit
. He turned around and carried her back into the water.

He’d be damned if he’d moo.

M
AT GAZED DOWN
at the naked baby playing with his toes in the bottom of the shower stall. How had this
happened? How had he ended up taking a shower with a baby?
Now, taking a shower with Nell, that would be different.

He belatedly remembered that big, pregnant belly and shook off the image. They were still parked by the covered bridge, and at this rate, they weren’t going to make it to Iowa before the Demon hit puberty. He slicked the last of the soap from his chest and decided he’d been caught in one of those nightmares where he was trying to get somewhere, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t make it.

A frightening thought struck him. First he’d acquired two kids. Now he’d picked up a woman. It was as if some satanic force were building a family around him.

“How are you doing in there?” Nell called through the door.

The Demon bent forward and sank all four of her teeth into the top of his foot. He yelped, wedged himself down to scoop her up. “You little—”

“We have no idea what kind of microorganisms were swimming in that river water,” Nell said. “Are you using lots of soap on her?”

He shoved her under the spray. “A whole bar.”

“You’d better not be trying any funny business with her in there, Jorik!” Lucy exclaimed. “I mean it!”

“Hush, Lucy,” Nell said. “Don’t make him any madder than he already is.”

The Demon was starting to sputter, so he pulled her out from under the water, then tucked her against his bare chest. She went after one of his nipples with her fingernails.

“Ouch!”

“You’re hurting her!” Lucy shouted. “I know you are!”

“
I’m not hurting her!
”

The Demon didn’t like anybody yelling but herself, and she started that lip-quiver stuff.

“I’m immune,” he growled down at her.

The quiver disappeared and a beamy smile took its place. He could swear he saw adoration glimmering in those blue eyes, and every bit of it was directed at him. “Forget it. I can’t be bought. ”

She gave a delighted baby vampire squeal, turned her head into his chest, and bit.