LITMIR.BIZ

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      * * *

      Mitch Gillespie unbuckled Dee’s car seat and helped the three-year-old out, while Emmie whimpered from the other side of the car. “I’m coming, sweetie,” he said, taking Dee’s hand and leading her around the car so he could free her sister.

      “Why is her face so red?” Dee asked, peering in as Mitch worked with the abundance of fasteners holding Emmie in place. “’Cause she’s sick?” Dee was at an age where she questioned everything, and he tried his best to always provide an answer. “Her eyes look funny, too, like she’s sad. Is that ’cause she’s sick, too?” she continued.

      Mitch’s stomach knotted. He hated that his baby was ill, and he hated even more that he had to bring the two of them back to his office because he’d forgotten his laptop. But in the flurry following the call from the day care about Emmie’s fever and the need for her to be picked up quickly, he’d forgotten all about the fact that he had several policies that had to be updated today.

      “I’m sure it’s because of her fever,” he said, as Emmie pushed the last strap away and reached tiny hands toward her daddy. Heat radiated from her cheek as Mitch pulled her against him. Eighteen months old, Emmie had experienced a fever only a couple of times, following her immunizations, and she’d never had one due to sickness.

      “But you gave her medicine,” Dee said, ever the voice of preschooler reason.

      “Right, but that was only—” he glanced at his watch “—ten minutes ago. It’ll take a little longer for it to kick in.”

      Dee’s strawberry brows furrowed and she frowned. “Everybody’s sick. I don’t like it when everybody’s sick. There’s nobody to play with.”

      Carrying Emmie, Mitch led Dee toward the front door of Gillespie Insurance. Based on what Emmie’s teacher said, Dee’s statement wasn’t that far off the mark. Apparently, a virus was passing through the day care like wildfire, with fever and vomiting taking their toll on the victims. If the lady were right, Dee would probably have it by tomorrow. Which meant he’d be away from the office for at least two days, and that was if he didn’t catch the bug, too. “Come on,” he urged. “Daddy is going to get his computer and then we’ll head home and rest.” He attempted to sound positive.

      “I don’t want to rest,” Dee said. “I want to play, but there’s nobody to play with.”

      Emmie dropped her head to his shoulder, mumbled, “Daddy,” and then closed her eyes.

      Mitch eased her downy curls aside and kissed her warm forehead then found a little relief that it didn’t seem as hot as it had when he picked her up from the day care. Maybe the children’s Tylenol had already kicked in. “I’m getting you home soon, sweetie,” he whispered, and then to Dee, “I’ll play a game with you at home, okay?” He wasn’t sure how he’d pull that off with so much work to do. Plus he’d planned to get a few groceries this afternoon before he picked them up. Now he had to take them home when there was virtually no food in the house. And he couldn’t very well drag them through the grocery store.

      God, please, help me.

      Any other time he could call Bo and Maura, his in-laws, and they’d help with the girls. Or Hannah and Matt, his sister-in-law and her husband. But the remainder of his wife’s family had headed out of town for a week at the beach following the end of the school year like many Claremont families determined to enjoy the kids’ first weeks of freedom. Naturally, they’d invited Mitch to come, but he did have a lot of work...and going on vacations with Jana’s family had seemed odd ever since her death.

      It wasn’t as if the family didn’t want to include him, but Mitch found himself miserably lonely and spending his entire vacation thinking about what might have been. Or wondering what life would be like now if he were a normal twenty-nine-year-old, with two beautiful little girls and a loving wife who’d help him with the day-to-day activities of raising them. And at times like this, when they were sick.

      “Daddy, I think she’s going to...” Dee’s warning came at the same time that the door opened and a petite dark-haired woman stepped inside his office.

      “Oh, hello, I wanted to see if the position was still—” she started, but Mitch didn’t hear anything else. Emmie’s tummy started convulsing, her wail piercing as she attempted to get sick, dry heaves causing her little body to shake while Dee shouted, “Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no! Daddy, run!”

      Mitch grabbed his jacket from the back of his desk chair and held it beneath his baby’s mouth as he darted to the bathroom at the rear of the office.

      Chapter Two

      Kate watched as Mitch took the crying baby toward the back of the small building and then disappeared into what she assumed was the restroom. She could hear his soothing words echoing down the short hallway.

      “It’s okay, Emmie. Daddy’s here.”

      He’d hardly acknowledged Kate before rushing the sick child away, but she hadn’t detected any recognition in the brief glance. Then again, she’d only been introduced to him once three years ago. Typically, a girl would know her husband’s friends well. But Kate’s relationship with Chad hadn’t been typical, and that was entirely her fault. Their Vegas wedding, which she’d urged him to have, had happened without the attendance of any friends. And when he’d moved her from Atlanta to Claremont in an effort to save their marriage, she’d blurted the news that nearly destroyed him and then hightailed it back to the city in a matter of days.

      The only other person remaining in the front office turned wide blue eyes to Kate and shrugged small shoulders. “Emmie’s sick.”

      Kate hadn’t been around many children, so she wasn’t all that certain how to respond. “I’m sorry,” she said, figuring an apology wouldn’t hurt.

      “Yeah.” Red pigtails bobbed up and down as she released an exaggerated sigh of disappointment. “Everybody’s sick, and I don’t have anyone to play with.”

      “I’m sorry,” Kate repeated, and wished she had something intelligent—or at least somewhat motherly—to say.

      Mitch’s words were suddenly muted by the sound of running water in the bathroom. Kate could no longer understand him, but the little girl apparently did.

      “Daddy’s trying to get her to stop crying, but Emmie is sad. It makes you sad to be sick.”

      Kate couldn’t agree more. “Yes, it does.”

      Seeing that they now agreed on something, the girl lifted one corner of her mouth and asked, “Are you Snow White? You look like Snow White.” She squinted a little as though trying to reconcile Kate as the beloved character. “Yep, you look like her a lot.”

      Kate’s smile lifted her cheeks. Jet-black hair, fair white skin—why hadn’t she thought of the resemblance before?

      Because in my mind, I’m still blonde and tan.

      The little girl’s brows lifted while she waited for an answer.

      “No, I’m not,” Kate said, though she didn’t mind the child relating her to someone she obviously liked. “I’m...” She felt odd merely saying Kate, so she pulled from her own youth and added the Southern salutation. “I’m Miss Kate.”

      The little girl wrinkled her nose, sending a tiny spray of freckles dancing. “That’s okay, I guess. But I like Snow White better.”

      Kate laughed. “Me, too.” She was glad for the chance to chat with this little princess while waiting to talk to her dad. Her nerves had almost disappeared with the interaction, and the fact that Mitch didn’t seem to remember her didn’t hurt, either. “So, what’s your name?” she asked.

      “Dee.” She moved to the smaller of the two desks in the office, put her back against the front wooden panel and then slid down to sit on the floor. She wore a yellow shirt with tiny pink flowers, matching

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