Emmett Read Free Page A

selling things. But whoever was calling wouldn’t give up. It stopped, briefly, only to start ringing insistently again. This time she was afraid not to answer it. It might be Kit or Logan or Tansy or even her brother.
    She picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
    â€œIs this Miss Melody Cartman?” a crisp, professional voice asked.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI’m Nurse Willoughby. We have a Mr. Emmett Deverell here at city general hospital with a massive concussion. He’s only just regained consciousness. He gave us your name and asked us to call and have you pick up his children at the Mellenger Hotel.”
    Melody stood frozen in place. The only thing that registered was that Emmett was hurt and she’d become a babysitter. She could hardly say no or argue. Concussions were terribly dangerous.
    â€œThe children are…where?”
    â€œAt the Mellenger Hotel. Room three hundred and something. He’s very foggy at the moment and in a great deal of pain.”
    â€œHe will be all right?” Melody asked, hating herself for being concerned.
    â€œWe hope so,” came the crisp reply.
    â€œTell him that I’ll look after the children,” she said.
    â€œVery well.”
    The phone went dead before she could ask another question. She stared around her like someone in a trance. Where in the world was she going to put three renegade children, one of whom hated her? And how long was she going to have them?
    For one insane moment, she thought about calling Adell and Randy, but she dismissed that idea at once. Emmett would never forgive her. At the moment, he deserved a little consideration, she supposed.
    She got her coat and took a cab to the hotel. It was very late to be driving around Houston, and her little car was unreliable in wet weather. Houston was notorious for flooding, and the rain was coming down steadily now.
    She asked at the desk for Emmett’s room number, quickly explaining the circumstances to a sympathetic desk clerk after giving Emmett’s condition and the hospital’s number, so that management could check her story if they felt the need to. In fact, they did, and she didn’t blame them. These days, one simply couldn’t turn over three children to a total stranger who might or might not intend them harm.
    When she got to the hotel room, there were muffled sounds from within. Melody, who knew the kids all too well, knocked briefly but firmly on the door.
    There was a sudden silence, followed by a scuffle and a wail. The door flew open and a matronly lady with frazzled hair almost fell on Melody with relief.
    â€œAre you their mother?” the elderly woman asked. “I’m Mrs. Johnson. Here they are, safe and sound, my fee will be added to the hotel bill. You are their mother?”
    â€œWell, no,” she began.
    â€œOh, my God!”
    â€œI’m to take charge of them,” Melody added, because it looked as if the woman might be preparing to have a heart attack on the spot.
    A wavery smile replaced the horror on the woman’s lined face. “Then I’ll just be off. Good night!”
    â€œChicken,” Amy muttered, peering around Melody to watch the woman’s incredibly fast retreat.
    â€œWhat have you three been up to?” Melody asked, glaring at them.
    â€œNothing at all, Melody, dear,” Amy said sweetly, and grinned.
    â€œShe just wasn’t used to kids, I guess,” Polk added. He grinned, too.
    Behind them there were the remains of two foam-filled pillows and what appeared to be the ropes that closed the heavy curtains.
    â€œWe had a pillow fight,” Amy explained.
    â€œAnd then we went skiing in the bathroom,” Polk said.
    Melody could barely see the bathroom. The door was ajar and the floor seemed to be soaked. She was beginning to understand her predecessor’s agile retreat. Days and days…of this. She wouldn’t have an apartment left! And all because she felt