"Itsy-bitsy spider crawled up the water spout."
Alexandra Radonovic—or Miss Alex, as the sixteen preschool-
aged students grouped on the round, sunshine-yellow rug
called her—hummed the second verse, letting the class fill
in the words. The four-year-olds knew the song well and
loudly enunciated each phrase for the benefit of their
younger classmates, adding a dramatic hand gesture to the
word washed.
"Out came the sun...hum, hum..."
"Did you forget the words, Auntie Alex?" her niece, Maya,
hissed softly at Alex's elbow.
Alex smiled at the concern she heard in Maya's voice. "No,
sweetheart," Alex whispered, "I was just listening to see
who needed help."
Satisfied with the answer, the child smiled back. "And the
itsy-bitsy spider climbed up the spout again." Alex led
the applause. "Who's ready for outside time?"
"I am, I am." Alex's sister Liz, who'd volunteered to help
that morning, jumped to her feet. Liz, who was just
fourteen months younger than Alex—and extremely busy with
her new herbal-tea company, and her recent engage-ment—
hadn't hesitated when Alex had called in a panic.
Shorthanded again.
Earlier in the year, their sister Grace had tangled with
old family friend Charles Harmon, a powerful and deceitful
lawyer and casino owner, who had promised revenge on the
entire Radonovic clan. In Alex's case, he'd tried to stir
up trouble by spreading untrue rumors about some of the
people working for her at her Dancing Hippo Day Care and
Preschool.
No charges were ever filed because Alex always did a
thorough background check before she ever hired anyone to
work at the Hippo. Although it had taken time and a great
deal of talking, Alex had personally called each parent on
her enrollment roster and explained what was happening. To
her profound relief, the parents of her students had stood
by her, one and all. Unfortunately, two of her part-time
aides hadn't appreciated being the targets of slander and
had quit. Alex was still trying to replace them.
She didn't blame anyone for not wanting to deal with
Charles's spite, but she really couldn't afford to be
short-staffed over the holidays. Stress was not only bad
for the kids, it was bad for her health. And she couldn't
afford to get sick. Not now.
"You're a lifesaver, Liz," Alex said, helping to escort
the energetic herd of youngsters toward the back door
after the mandatory pause for putting on coats and
sweaters. Late November in Las Vegas might be balmy
compared to other parts of the country, but lately the
wind seemed to hold a bite that went straight to her core.
"Rita should be back soon. I can't imagine shopping for
Christmas on the day after Thanksgiving, but she starts at
five and buys all of the gifts for her grandchildren in
one morning."
Rita, a retired kindergarten teacher, was Alex's most
senior aide. Privately, she'd told Alex that she'd been
planning on quitting before the Charles Harmon episode but
had delayed the decision because she didn't want to add to
Alex's problems.
The Dancing Hippo was Alex's baby. Her life, her sisters
were quick to point out. Seven and a half years earlier,
she'd opened the day-care center partly to stay afloat
financially and partly to keep from sinking into an easily
justified depression after her fiancé, Mark Gaylord, had
broken off their relationship. Alex would never forget the
day he'd admitted to spending the night with his partner,
Tracey. Alex had barely come to grips with his betrayal
when she learned that Tracey was pregnant.
"I didn't mean for this to happen, Alex," he'd said. "But
it did and I have to accept responsibility for my actions."
Mark. Ever the hero. The love of her life. The man with
the troubled past who worked so hard to rise above his
difficult childhood. She knew what being a father meant to
him. His concern for children had sealed her love for him,
and she'd understood why he'd chosen his unborn child over
her. What she'd never understood was why he'd risked their
future together for a night in the arms of a woman like
Tracey, who had a reputation for partying with all the
wrong people.
Alex shook her head to push the thoughts of Mark away. She
would have said she was over him completely if not for the
fire the night of her sister Kate's wedding last July.
Someone had set fire to Liz's date's home and greenhouse,
and Liz—the sister who had voluntarily served in a war
zone—had been too shaken up to drive, so their mother,
Yetta, had asked Alex to play chauffeur.
To Alex's shock, Mark, who had apparently traded in his
cop's badge to become an arson investigator, had been on
the scene. Seeing him had resurrected all her old memories
and she'd barely made it through a night since without
bumping into him in her dreams.
"Two steps forward and five steps back," she muttered
under her breath.
"Are you talking to yourself again?"
"Again? When have I ever talked to myself?" she asked Liz,
who was smiling that smile Alex hated. A cross between
know-it-all and smug. Not that Liz was condescending by
nature, but at the moment she was on top of the world.
She'd just become engaged to a great guy and her specialty
blends of herbal teas seemed to be taking off.
"Alex, you're the eldest. Every time you were giving
orders to Kate, Grace or me, you were talking to yourself."
Liz's laugh was so infectious Alex couldn't prevent her
own guffaw. "Are you saying I was bossy?"
"You tried to be. But in all fairness, it's not your
fault. Dad called you Alexandra the Great, remember? So
you had a lot to live up to, and since we were your only
subjects, you tried to rule us."
Alex stepped in front of three-year-old Madelaine Rose
before the child could whack two-year-old Preston Johnson
over the head with a plastic shovel. "We are gentle with
our friends, Maddie. Treat people the way you'd like to be
treated."
To Liz, she said, "I tried to lead by example, not
oligarchy."
Liz laughed so hard tears came to her pretty brown eyes.
Alex had never seen her sister so relaxed and obviously
happy. Love will do that do you, she thought wistfully.
She'd loved being in love and would have actively sought
to find a new man in her life after Mark—except she'd been
so busy trying not to lose the house they'd been in the
process of buying together.
Without his additional income to secure the loan, she'd
been forced to use the money in her trust fund to make the
down payment. Even now she didn't have a lot of wiggle
room when it came to budgeting, and her ongoing health
issues hadn't helped matters. Self-employed, she didn't
make money when she had to hire extra help because she was
doubled over in pain once a month from an inflamed ovarian
cyst.
But she had no real regrets when it came to her career.
Instead of becoming a secondary school teacher as she'd
intended, she taught preschool. She loved working with
children in this fertile—everything was amazing and fresh—
stage of life. She loved kids—even if she wasn't always
wild about their parents. She'd learned how to handle
almost every contingency, from babysitters who forgot to
pick up their charge on time to parents who had
restraining orders against their mates. The one thing she
hadn't found was a mate of her own.
For years, she'd expected to look up one day and see Mr.
Right walk through her door. After all, her mother, whose
reputation as a gypsy mystic was well known, had foreseen
a prophecy for each of her four daughters. Alex's was very
clear: "A child's laughter can heal the wounded heart, if
first you heal the child."
Child. Preschool teacher.Alex figured she was in the right
place to meet the man of her prophecy. And she'd worked
with dozens of kids over the years who qualified as
wounded. She just hadn't fallen in love with any of their
single fathers.
"Hey, did you know Grace is coming back next week?" Alex
glanced at Liz for a second, but out of the corner of her
eye she detected trouble in the sandbox. She headed that
way, motioning for Liz to follow. "Are you kidding? Does
that mean she and Nick aren't coming for Christmas? Mom
will be heartbroken."
"No, they're coming then, too. This is just Grace alone.
Something to do with Charles's trial. He's trying to get
it postponed again." She sighed. "I'm ready for some
closure where that mess is concerned, aren't you?"
Alex nodded but was too busy redirecting William, before
he could wrestle a big red dump truck out of the hands of
his playmate, to answer.
Liz kept talking anyway. "Mom also said that Grace is
going to train the new bookkeeper Kate and Jo hired at
Romantique."
Jo Brighten, Kate's mother-in-law, had purchased Grace's
share of the restaurant after Grace had moved to Detroit
to be with her future husband, Nikolai.
"That's generous of Grace," Alex said.
"Especially since she misses her job so much. It's too bad
she and Nick have to live in Detroit."
"Did I tell you I took my staff to dinner at Romantique
two nights ago as a thank-you for hanging in with me
through this horrible time? We had a wonderful meal. Jo
made beef short ribs that melted in your mouth. And her
seven-layer cake. Oh, my G—" Alex stopped mid-exclamation.
"Morgan, what are you doing? MacKensie is your friend. She
doesn't want sand in her hair. Do you, MacKensie?"
She took both little girls into her arms and settled the
dispute, which was more about them both being three than
anything else. "Bend over, MacKensie, and shake like a wet
dog. Can you do that for me? Good girl."
To Liz, she said, "Sorry. Would you do me a favor? Go
inside and start setting out the snack. Carrots and
raisins, I think. This week's menu is up on the wall in
the kitchen."
She smiled as she watched her sister wind her way through
the boisterous youngsters in the yard. Liz's sense of joy
showed in the way she walked, talked and took time to
comfort the little girl who tripped and fell in her path.
Just twenty minutes till nap time, Alex thought as she
scanned the yard, making a mental head count of her
charges. Once, early in her career, she'd "lost" a child
who had crawled into a toy box and gone to sleep while the
adults had called 9-1-1. Now, some sixth sense kept her
connected with her charges.
"We did it," Liz said in a stage whisper half an hour
later.
"The entire herd, down for the count."
"Yep. Another exciting morning in the world of child-
care," Alex joked as she walked her sister to the front
door.
"I really appreciate your lending a hand, Liz."
They stepped outside on the wide, covered stoop that faced
the street. A chain-link fence, a four-foot-tall version
of the one that enclosed the play yard at the rear of the
house, followed the sidewalk. The hinged gate opened to a
wheel-chair-friendly ramp leading to the door. Alex hired
a yard service to keep her two matching rectangles of
grass alive beneath the brutal LasVegas sun each summer.
In the middle of the yard to the left was a hand-carved
sign carrying her logo—a dancing hippopotamus in a purple
tutu.
"No problem. David, I mean, Paul—" Liz smacked the heel of
her hand to her forehead in exasperation. "I can't believe
I'm still having trouble remembering my husband-to-be's
real name. That sounds terrible, doesn't it?"
Alex smiled. David, the name everyone in the family had
first known him as, had been hiding his past to escape a
vindictive maniac. Once that man was no longer a threat,
David had begun resurrecting his former persona, Paul
McAffey—the man Liz was planning to marry.
They hadn't set a date, but they had moved in
together. "Speaking of Paul, how goes his new position at
UNLV?"
"He won't actually be teaching until next semester, thank
God. But even getting things ready has been a full-time
job. I think he's going to be brilliant, but I could be
prejudiced. Gotta run. We have a huge tea order to fill
today, and if I'm not there, Lydia and Reezira might not
get the ratio of herbs right. We're still overcoming a
language barrier although they're catching on pretty fast."
Liz's two employees were one-time illegal immigrants who
had been secreted into the United States by Charles Harmon
and forced into prostitution. Two more examples of people
who had wound up suffering because of one man's greed and
lust for power. But, thanks to Liz, the young women now
had green cards and a job.
Alex started to ask if the girls were going to join the
family for the holidays, but the sound of a car door
closing caught her attention.
Liz let out an audible gasp. Alex's breath caught in her
throat, making speech impossible.
Mark. "Wow. He looks different without his firefighter
gear on. Handsomer. Is that a word?"
"Dunno."
"What's he doing here?"
"I have no idea."
"Well, um, I'll stick around. Just in case."
Alex looked at her sister and smiled. She and Liz had
always shared a special bond. Growing up, each had seemed
to sense when the other was upset or in trouble. But that
bond had weakened, for several reasons. One was the man
coming up her walk. Liz had been quicker to forgive than
Alex had thought appropriate.
"No. You've got more important things to do."
"But—"
"I know what you're thinking, Elizabeth," she said, using
the formal tone their mother always employed. "But don't
worry. I can handle him."
"But—"
"Tell Paul I said hi."
Liz left, pausing only long enough to mutter something to
Mark on her way past, then she hurried across the street
where her new SUV was parked.