Page 24 of The Rough Ride (Sanctuary, Inc. #3)

A ngie Richardson fluttered about the kitchen like an irritated bird, shoving little things in what she called a tote. It looked more like a duffle bag to him.

Nick eyed the five typed pages spread out on the counter. If she kept adding directives spit out by the kitchen printer, it would soon qualify as the size of the US constitution.

“I’ll never understand why fundraising has to take place on holiday weekends.

Holidays are for family, so what if Congress is out of session?

Can’t these fundraisers happen next weekend once Lindsay’s back in school?

I just don’t get it.” She tossed an exasperated look at Nick and shoved a pair of sandals in the tote as she continued.

“You don’t need to bother yourself with those notes.

They’re for Hilde, who, for some reason, has chosen this morning to be late.

She’s got all sorts of fun planned for the kids.

A barbeque, toasting marshmallows, crafts, movies in the big tent out back, watching fireworks on TV, and fun in the sprinkler and pool.

Oh, but Lindsay is going to a friend’s house this weekend. They’re picking her up at noon. ”

Ah, yes. He’d run a background check on that family last week. They came up clean.

Angie looked at Nick again. “I hope you brought something besides the suit you’re wearing.

It’ll be hotter than Disneyworld in July the next few days.

” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Just so you know, I put a whole bunch of leftover Richardson family reunion T-shirts in the security office closet, in case your crew ends up outside sweating like harvest pigs.”

The senator rolled a suitcase through the kitchen and set his coffee mug in the sink.

Angie pursed her lips and shot her husband a glare. “I just hate being away from the kids on a holiday weekend, Beau.”

“Me too. But duty calls.” He tapped his watch. “We need to leave, like five minutes ago.”

“We can’t just yet. Hilde isn’t here. She texted me at 6:30 that she’s running late and will be here shortly.” She crammed a bite of banana in her mouth and shoved an orange in her tote.

Nick offered her a tight smile.

“Ang, all three kids are still asleep. Nick’s here to protect them.

It isn’t like we’re running off and leaving them alone.

Private jet or not, we still need to clear security and leave on time.

The first fundraiser starts in six hours.

Let’s go, sugar.” Senator Richardson zipped his wife’s bag shut, tossed it on top of the suitcase, and headed for the garage.

“I’m not leaving until Hilde’s here. If you have to leave this very minute, fine. I won’t go. You can give the donors my regrets.” She leaned against the sink and proceeded to finish her banana.

Beau walked back into the kitchen. “You have to go, sugar. You’re the keynote speaker at three events, and you’re introducing me at the other two. Remember all the work you’ve put into those speeches?”

“What kind of mother leaves her kids on the last weekend of summer? And Hilde’s not here.” She swiped at her cheek.

“The kids are sleeping, mama bear. When they wake up, Hilde will be here. They’ll never know the difference,” he implored. Beau drilled a serious gaze into Nick. “Do you mind if we leave? Hilde’s on her way.”

Nick shrugged out of his suit coat and laid it across the back of a kitchen chair.

There were millions of dollars on the line here—not to mention the full-time employment of at least twelve people he’d hired.

The panic clawing at his brain made him itchy.

He was damn uncomfortable just being around kids. There was no way he could babysit them.

Nick plastered on his most chill smile and crossed his arms. “You should leave. Don’t worry about a thing. Hilde’ll be here any minute, and the kids are safe with me.” Yeah, right. His stomach tossed his breakfast around, but he swallowed hard.

“See, sweetness? It’s fine with Nick. Let’s go.” Beau placed his hand on the small of Angie’s back and kissed her hair.

Angie looked around her husband to Nick. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with this? I mean, Hilde’s always been dependable. She was out sick two weeks ago, but she’s better now.”

Nick nodded. “Absolutely. It’s only for a little while. The kids will have a great weekend. It’s no problem at all.”

“Oh God, alright. You can call me if anybody has any questions. Or text me. I answer texts pretty quick. Thank you, Nick. We won’t forget this.

” She looped a purse across her shoulder.

“Oh, and there should be three more pages in that printer for Hilde to read. Just line them up next to these.” She tapped the counter. “You’ll text me when she arrives?”

“Will do.”

Nick followed them out, nodded at the previously cleared limo driver, and gave them a short wave as they pulled away from the house. His chest constricted like a rubber band pulled too tight.

He scrolled the contacts on his phone and located Hilde’s number.

Surely, she’d be here before the kids woke.

Nick paced the long kitchen and sent an inquiring text to Hilde. She hadn’t answered her phone, and the voicemail was full.

Hilde, are you on your way?

He’d already frantically read the eight full pages of notes Angie left behind, brewed coffee in the security office, performed the necessary security scans on the property, and let Precious out to relieve herself.

He checked his messages. There was no reply from Hilde yet and he made sure the phone volume was up high.

No sounds drifted from the baby monitor on the counter and neither of the girls had padded down the wide curved stairway.

Until now.

Out of the corner of his eye, a little hand trailed the bannister one step at a time. It had to be Natalie.

Nick stuffed his hands in his pockets. God help me. All he had to do was appear calm, like this was an everyday occurrence. The kid was sharp. She’d probably notice that he’d broken into a cold sweat, but he’d never let her know his heart pounded like a sprinter after a race.

He waited in the kitchen, his feet frozen in place. She’d turn into the long hallway any second now.

Blue fur slippers, cartoon nightgown, and every-which-way-curls. She clutched a pink bear, stopped dead in her tracks, and stared at him.

The scene eerily reminded him of Shootout at the OK Corral .

“Where’s Mommy?”

“She left with your dad for Texas. They’ll be back in a few days.”

“Where’s Hilde?”

“She’s not here yet.”

“Where’s Mr. Mason?” She crossed her arms and cocked a hip.

“He had to report for duty with the National Guard. He’ll be back in a week or two.”

She let out a long sigh. “Can I hold your hand?”

“Uh, sure.” He strode down the hallway. She slipped her hand in his, tugging him toward the bathroom.

“The light, pwease.” She set the bear on the counter.

He flipped the light on. She reached under the cartoon nightie, dropped the panties to her ankles, and held up her arms.

“Lift me up?”

In the far corner of the powder room sat one of those little kid toilets. “Why don’t you use that little chair over there?”

Her face contorted into a grimace of abject horror. “That’s for babies. I’m a big girl. I don’t use it anymore.”

“Oh. Okay.” He lifted and set her on the big seat. She was light as air .

“Don’t look,” she shrieked.

He closed his eyes and stood by the sink—waiting.

“Nooo. You have to go out there,” she pointed. “I need p’ivacy, pwease.”

“No problem.” He stepped into the hallway, pulling the door behind him.

“Nooo. Leave the door open.”

“Okay, I’ll wait out here.” He crossed his arms and whistled. He pulled out his phone, checked for a message from Hilde. Nothing. Shit. The sweat soaked his fresh-pressed dress shirt.

A few seconds later, Natalie started talking.

“Toiyets are too big for me. Daddy promised he’d put in a short one. I hope it’s soon. This is ‘barrassing, Mr. Nick.”

“Sorry, kid. Your dad’s a busy man. I’m sure he’ll get to it.”

“I asked Daddy to put a short one in the kid’s bathroom, but Linzee fussed ‘bout it. I like the house in Texas. All the poddies are short. Sometimes Mommy cries ‘cause she misses home. And Precious puts her paws on Mommy’s shoulders and licks her face when she cries.”

And she was off and running in her usual tell-all-leave-nothing-unsaid manner.

He’d heard the stories from Derek. Life in the big house from a child’s perspective.

Mommy and Daddy swimming in the dark at night, Daddy putting Precious in her crate so he could kiss Mommy.

The pool company needing to sanitize the pool after Ollie’s playmates pooped in it.

“Help me down, Mr. Nick.”

He went in and helped her off the toilet, looking the other way as she adjusted her clothes.

“Ready to go?” He looked at his watch. This bathroom break had taken five minutes .

“No. I have to wash my hands. Mommy says not washing is ‘izgusting.”

“Use the stool there.”

“Can’t. I’m scared.”

“Why?”

“I fell off and got a boo-boo.” She held up an elbow with a large black and yellow bruise and pinned him with huge blue eyes.

One quick glance proved her point. The bathroom held nothing but granite, marble, tile, and porcelain.

How many times had his father almost knocked him senseless in a bathroom?

Fear washed over him, and his throat dried.

There couldn’t be any boo-boos on his watch. How would he explain that to Angie?

Natalie put her arms up again.

Okay, then. He straddled the stool and held her up while she turned on the water, adjusted it for warmth, soaped up, rinsed, soaped up and rinsed again.

Somewhere in there, she bent low and rinsed her face.

He moved her close to the hanging hand towel while she dried her hands and patted her face.

Then he set her down and turned off the light.

Another look at his watch. Eight minutes.

Boys had to be easier than girls.

Natalie ran for the kitchen. “I’m starving, Mr. Nick. Let’s make bekfast.”

He took a deep breath and hoped this wouldn’t involve testing his culinary skills or lack thereof.

He had to pull it together. Even he could scramble an egg on request. His phone rang, an unknown number, as Natalie pulled a box of Pop Tarts from a lower cabinet.

As a kid, he’d have chosen the same thing.

They probably weren’t on Angie’s list of preferred eats, but desperate times and all that.

He answered the phone as Natalie handed him the package to open.

“This is Nick.”

“Mr. Flannery, you are the boss, yes?”

“Yes. Who’s this?” He opened a bunch of different cabinets and finally found a plate for the Pop Tarts. The guy on the phone had some kind of Slavic accent. Russian, maybe?

“I am Edward, Hilde’s husband. We are at emergency room.”

Oh, shit. Nick slumped against the refrigerator. “What happened?”

Natalie yanked on his pants pocket while holding a little cup in her hand. A drink? He opened the fridge and pulled out the orange juice. She shook her head and pointed at the chocolate milk.

“Hilde’s car had trouble this morning, so I say I drive her in my car.

No work for me this weekend due to holiday.

She no tell me how bad she’s been feeling.

We work opposite shifts and mostly see each other on weekends.

Then she double over in car as I drive and cry out in pain.

I say, ‘Hilde, why you go to work when you so sick?’ She say, ‘the senator and his wife have to travel this weekend and she got to go for the children.’ She loves those kids. ”

Nick set the cup of chocolate milk on the table as Natalie scrambled onto a chair, grabbed the remote, and turned on cartoons. He slipped into the laundry room to get away from the sudden noise.

“Okay. So, how’d you end up in emergency?” He ran a hand through his hair and paced.

“I drive couple more miles, and the pain no go away. She cries out every time it comes to her. Then I know she’s hurt real bad ‘cause my Hilde is tough woman. How you say? She’s no wimp.

I say, ‘Hilde, you my life. You no go to work. I take you to doctor. Hilde say no. I say yes, right now.’ I see sign for hospital and bring her in.

They take her back real quick and say her color no good.

Her white count very bad. Then she gets sick on nurse and faint. ”

Nick could relate. The blender in his stomach had turned into a Magic Bullet at high speed. “Is she going to be alright?”

“They call it dicey fifty-fifty. They think her appendix real bad. All of a sudden, they cut her clothes, run with bed down hallway to surgery, bring me papers to sign. I worried for my little flower, she everything to me. We no have children. She love the senator’s family so much.

I try to reach Mrs. Angie, but no answer on her phone.

You say a prayer for my Hilde, Mr. Flannery. She no be at work for a while.”

“Of course. They’ll take good care of her. Don’t worry about calling Mrs. Richardson. I’ll handle it. You just concentrate on Hilde and yourself. And call me Nick.”

“Thank you, Mr. Nick. I call my sister now—she come sit with me.”

“Can you send a text later and let me know how Hilde’s doing, please?”

“I no text. How you say? Wrong generation. I am older than Hilde. My sister, she do everything on phone. I tell her to text you.”

“Thank you. Take care. Give Hilde our best.”

Back in the kitchen, Nick lowered the volume on the cartoons.

SpongeBob and that annoying song. Who was Angie’s back-up plan for babysitters?

He didn’t remember clearing anyone to take Hilde’s place in the event of an emergency.

Angie had a sister somewhere, but he couldn’t put his finger on where she lived.

He sent Angie a quick text asking her to call him ASAP.

He thought a minute and sent another. Just so she didn’t get upset.

Kids are fine.

He was the one freaking out.