KnockOut - Catherine Coulter [12]
He said, “Why don’t you call me Ethan?”
She shook her head. “Mama said I was to stay away from you. Far away.”
Now that wasn’t much of a surprise. “Did she tell you why?”
The little girl whispered, “She said no way would you believe us.”
“But you came here anyway.”
“Yes,” she whispered, and he saw a small white hand stretch out toward Big Louie. “He’s bigger than me.”
“Yeah, he is, but you know, he wouldn’t hurt you unless you tried to steal his dog bone. Then it’d be close. Would you like me to call your mother, Autumn?”
“If you do, she’ll come out here and he’ll come and she’ll try to stop him and it could be really bad.”
She was rubbing Lula’s back as she arched against her hand, purring with lots of horsepower. Mackie swatted at Lula. Lula whipped around and hissed at him.
Ethan said, “Come on, you guys, don’t be rude around Autumn. That’s a pretty name—Autumn.”
“My daddy wanted to name me that. He’s dead.”
“I’m sorry. Was he ill?”
She shook her head. “It was bad, real bad.” Slowly she held out her hand to Mackie, who turned slinky now, twisting and turning around her, teasing her. Big Louie nudged her shoulder. Ethan said, “Listen, you guys, how can I get to know Autumn if you’re all trying to take over?”
She laughed, a very small laugh but still a laugh, and he found himself smiling in return. “Are you hungry? This trio sure was. You watched me play kibble Frisbee with them?”
She nodded. “They’re good.”
She fell silent, looked profoundly worried.
He wanted to ask her why she hadn’t come out then, but he knew why. She’d been too scared. He said, “I can make hot chocolate. I think I’ve got some Fig Newtons.”
She licked her lips. He had her. He held out his hand. And waited. It seemed like a year, but at last she put her hand in his. He rose. She walked beside him into the kitchen. “Why don’t you sit down and play with the varmints while I work. Are you hungry?”
She nodded.
Ethan thought about her mother. Another five minutes, he thought, get the little girl to tell him what was going on first. And he knew to his boot heels that whatever was going on with her mother, it wasn’t good. “You know, I’m hungry too. Why don’t I see what’s in the fridge?”
There was leftover pepperoni pizza, four big slices. The best kid food in the land. “Look what I found.”
“I was afraid to eat it,” she said. “I didn’t want to make you mad.”
What to say to that? “I’m glad you didn’t eat it cold. The cheese would stick to your teeth. Let’s warm it up.”
He turned the oven on high and laid the slices on a cookie tray that was so old he imagined the first cookie was baked on it during Prohibition.
He made hot chocolate from an old can of cocoa in the cupboard. As he stirred it into the milk on the stovetop, he said, “How did you get into my house?”
He didn’t think she was going to answer him, then in a near whisper, she said, “Your bedroom window was up a little bit. Big Louie was barking his head off. I got stuck, and he grabbed my shirt sleeve and pulled me into your bedroom.”
“You’re some watchdog, aren’t you, Big Louie?”
Big Louie wagged his tail. Ethan watched him nuzzle his face into the little girl’s hands as she sat all straight and proper on a kitchen chair.
He poured the hot chocolate into a mug. “Here, give this a try. It’s not too hot, I stuck my finger in it.”
He watched her sip, then she smiled. A beautiful smile, he thought, no fear in it, at least for the moment. “Are you a worrier, Autumn?”
She cocked her head to one side and stared at him. She nodded. “I have to.”
“Why?”
She buried her face in the hot chocolate. Mackie meowed and jumped lightly onto her lap. Mackie was sixteen pounds of muscle covered with gold-and-white fur. If he sprawled out over her legs, his paws might have reached the floor on either side of her.
Back off, back off. “I need to call your mama. She’s scared, Autumn. You want her to know you’re okay, don’t you?”
The little face sported a chocolate mustache. She looked pale and frightened. “I don’t want her to die.”