Page 22 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

His eyes widened.Holy shit.She was going to finish the entire glass at one time. He’d heard of chugging beer or knocking back hard liquor, but wine? Although not a drinker, he was pretty sure wine wasn’t designed to be guzzled.

When she finished, she placed the glass back on the table. Then she turned to gaze out the window.

Night’d fallen, and nothing but inky blackness was beyond the glass. The curtains hadn’t been drawn, but so far from the city, they were just surrounded by woods blanketed in darkness. It’d been cloudy all afternoon with no moon visible tonight.

Still she remained silent. Had she dismissed him?

Crap. The lines were kind of blurring, weren’t they? As a nanny, he had no standing here, in this room. As a fellow parent and concerned person, her withdrawal was disconcerting. What to say or do? Once again, he was looking on helplessly as something important happened.

“Remy?”

A full minute passed before she turned to face him. Still, she didn’t answer.

“Talk to me. What just happened?” Suddenly, panic skittered down his spine and his gut spasmed. Was she an alcoholic? It’d never occurred to him, but would serve him right for assuming. No. He refused to get intertwined with another addict.

Her eyes were unfocused. Maybe she was just tired. It’d been a productive but exhausting day, and although the clock had barely passed nine, he considered calling it a day. Mira was a good sleeper, but there was no guarantee she’d sleep in tomorrow morning. He had to prepare himself.

“Remy.”

“Yes, Rusty.”

“I’m going to bed. Are you going to be okay?”

Her gaze sharpened, as if she was coming out of her fog. “Of course I’ll be okay. I have to be okay.”

Reluctantly, he took his leave. After checking on the girls, he changed into pajamas and then turned out the lights. Was he going to be able to sleep? This house was in the hills north of Mission City, and the closest neighbor was about a quarter of a mile down the road. Their old apartment was on a main thoroughfare and a bus route, so he was accustomed to noise. Here…the quiet was eerie.

He awakened suddenly. Ok, guess he could sleep. He held his breath, waiting… There.

A whimper.

He shot out of bed in an instant and crossed the hall. Guided by the night-light, he stepped into the girls’ bedroom.

Mira’s blankets tangled around her little body and she lay on her back, arms flung in all directions. She slept deeply. Nothing short of a 7.0 earthquake could rouse her.

Calleigh was curled into a little ball, with her thumb stuck in her mouth. Her eyes were closed, but tears streaked down her cheeks.

Lowering to sit on the floor, he curled a protective arm around her head. With slow, deliberate strokes, he eased her hair from her face. He murmured, promising everything’d be okay. Of course, he couldn’t make good on such a promise.

After a time, Calleigh let out a soft sigh, her body relaxing.

With reluctance, he stood and stretched his legs. He tucked Mira under her blankets. He’d go back to his room and keep his ears open. Fingers crossed, Calleigh’d sleep through the night.

Chapter seven

Remysquintedthroughtheimpossibly bright sunshine, and one coherent thought pushed through her consciousness.

I will never drink again.

Long after Rusty’d gone to bed, she continued to pour herself wine. She’d downed six or seven glasses over the course of the evening. By the end of the night, she’d been downright wasted. Now, she lay on the top of her covers, still dressed in yesterday’s clothes.

Calleigh.

Thoughts of her sister propelled her from bed, and she moved as quickly as she could to the kitchen, stumbling once and hitting the wall with her shoulder.

The two girls sat at the table, digging in to the food.

From this distance she couldn’t see, but it smelled like pancakes. Her stomach roiled and rebelled.

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