She paled. “You can’t do that.”
“Watch me.”
Downstairs, he paused in the kitchen to let his temper cool before going back onto the porch to get Abby. Outside, he forced a smile. “Ready to go, angel?”
She regarded him seriously, but he noticed that there were no more tears.
“Is Sara Lynn still mad?”
“I suspect so,” he admitted. “But at me, sweetpea, not at you.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have called.”
“Yes, you should have. That’s our deal, remember. You can call me anytime.” He draped an arm around her shoulder and led her to the car and helped her in. “Now, then, what would you like to do?”
She hesitated, then flashed him a bright smile. “Can we go to the old house? We haven’t been there yet this summer.”
“You want to go to Aunt Delia’s? Why?” He grinned. “You hoping I’ll put you to work so you can earn some summer spending money?”
“That, too,” she admitted with a grin. “But mostly I just like it there. Mama takes me there sometimes, too. We sit on the porch and watch the water. Mama asked and Aunt Delia said it was okay.”
“Of course it’s okay. I’m just surprised.”
“I like to watch the water, Uncle Kevin.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s always there, no matter what.”
“Not like people, huh?”
Abby sighed. “Yeah, not like people.”
It was funny, he thought now. He’d always felt that way about Aunt Delia’s place himself. Years ago, his father had spent more time in Richmond than he had at home. When his father was around, there were always aunts and uncles and cousins in and out of his house asking for help with one crisis or another. The help had always been given, but usually not without a lot of shouting. After his mother died, Kevin had taken refuge at Aunt Delia’s whenever Molly or his father would agree to take him.
Maybe that was why he was so opposed to Gracie’s plan, he thought, startled by the unexpected insight. Maybe he just didn’t want to think of that peaceful, serene house turned upside down by strangers. Maybe he was being totally selfish in trying to keep it for himself, when the odds of him ever living there were practically nonexistent. For some reason, though, he just liked knowing it was there, available, as steady and dependable as the flowing of the Potomac.
Then again, he thought wryly, maybe he just liked making Gracie a little crazy with his stubborn refusal to take her offers seriously. That had provided him with a whole month or more of pure entertainment.
“Why are you grinning, Uncle Kevin?”
“Just thinking about something.”
“That lady, I’ll bet.”
He stared at her. “Which lady?”
“The one Daddy says you like, the one who wants to buy Aunt Delia’s house. He called the house last night and told me about her. You know what else?”
“What?”
“He and Mama talked for a long time, too. They hardly ever do that. Do you think it means anything?”
Kevin doubted it. “I don’t know, sweetpea.”
“I was just thinking it would be nice if they got back together,” she said wistfully.
“Every kid whose parents are divorced wishes that,” Kevin told her. “Sometimes it’s for the best if they don’t, though.”
“I guess.” She grinned. “So tell me about you and this lady. Is she pretty?”
“You’re entirely too nosy for a kid,” he told her.
“Which means I should stop asking questions, right, ’cause I’m making you nervous?” she said, nodding sagely. “Can I meet her?”
“One of these days, I suppose.”
“Why not today?” Abby prodded. “I’ll bet she’d like to come to Aunt Delia’s with us.”
“I’m sure she would.”
“Daddy said you caught her sneaking into the house one day. Is that true?”
“Actually she was sneaking out,” he said, recalling the fascinating view.
“She sounds really cool. Can we get her, please?”
“Sure, why not,” Kevin said eventually, making the turn that would take them to Gracie’s. He braked to a stop, tilted Abby’s chin up and looked directly into her eyes. “But you are not to mention that the house belongs to Aunt Delia, okay?”
“Why not?”
“Because I said so.”
“Isn’t that like a giant fib or something?”
“It’s not a fib,” Kevin declared. “It’s an omission.”
“Who does she think owns the house?”
“I haven’t told her.”
“Why not?”
“You ask entirely too many questions.”
“Don’t you know why?”
“Because I don’t want to, that’s why.”
“You’re weird, Uncle Kevin. You know that, don’t you?”
“That’s a fine thing to say to your favorite uncle.”
“It’s okay,” Abby reassured him. “I love you, anyway.”
He grinned. “Thanks, squirt. I love you, too.” He shut off the engine, then tilted his head and pretended to study her. “Even if you do have freckles on your nose.”
“Do not,” she protested, instantly covering her nose.
“Do, too.”
“You’re teasing.”
“Ask Gracie, if you don’t believe me,” he suggested as he led Abby around to Gracie’s backyard. For once, he opted for a little formality and actually knocked before stepping into the kitchen. “Anybody home?”
When Gracie didn’t answer, Abby said, “I’ll bet she’s at Mrs. Johnson’s.”
Kevin peered at her intently. “Exactly where are you getting all your information about Gracie’s habits?”
“Never mind. I have my sources,” she said, giving him a superior little smile. “Wanna bet that’s where she is?”
“No, I do not want to bet,” Kevin retorted. “If we hurry, though, she might have some muffins ready.”
“Blueberry, I’ll bet. Just for you.”
Sure enough, they found Gracie in Mrs. Johnson’s kitchen and there were scones, not muffins, just out of the oven. Chocolate pecan, this time. Kevin could smell the melting chocolate before he ever stepped inside.
“Told you he’d be here,” Mrs. Johnson said with satisfaction.
Kevin grinned at Gracie. “Were you worried I wouldn’t show up, darlin?”
“Afraid you would,” Gracie contradicted, then focused her attention on Abby. “You must be Kevin’s cousin.”
“I’m Abby.”
“And I’m Gracie. It’s very nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Probably next to nothing compared to what she’s heard about you,” Kevin muttered.
Abby shot him a grin. “I heard that, Uncle Kevin.”
He tugged on her pigtail. “I’ll bet if you
