They all stood, and Wyatt shook his father’s hand. “Thanks again, Dad.”
William sighed, “Yeah, yeah . . . so.” He lifted his chin. “You gonna tell me how you managed that shiner?”
Melanie hardly noticed the healing bruise over Wyatt’s eye.
Wyatt huffed a laugh. “A fist.”
William closed his eyes. “Son!”
“Not Nathan’s. It was in the bar.”
“Oh, ho, ho . . . it just gets better.”
“No one was arrested,” Wyatt explained.
William snapped shut his briefcase and grasped the handle. “Well that’s a good thing. I don’t rescue sons from bar fights.”
They were all laughing.
“Thanks again, William.” Melanie gave him a brief hug.
He smiled. “Damsels in distress call, I’ll come runnin’. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“I like your dad,” she said as they watched him walk out of the cafeteria.
“He’s ruthless in the courtroom.”
“Yet he raised such a kind and considerate son.”
Wyatt nudged her with his arm. “You haven’t met my sister or mother.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The day they drove Hope home, Nathan struck back.
“You must be Hope.”
Melanie was holding her daughter’s hand as she walked up the steps to the inn. Behind her, Wyatt was removing an armful of get well gifts from his truck that Hope had accumulated over the past week.
Miss Gina stood behind the woman who greeted Hope before acknowledging Melanie. She had slicked back brown hair that was pulled into a tight bun and a pinched face that looked anything but inviting. The woman had to be in her sixties, with plenty of wrinkles that would do better with a little Botox.
Melanie hesitated on the top step and glanced at Miss Gina.
With hesitation, Miss Gina introduced the scowl-faced woman. “This is Ms. Pensky with Child Protective Services.”
Damn you, Nathan!
“I’m here to assess the living arrangement for your daughter, Mrs. Stone.”
Melanie cringed and offered a tight smile. “I go by Ms. Bartlett.” Arguing the fact she wasn’t a Mrs. and explaining she was still a Miss was useless when Nathan was spewing to the world that she was his wife.
Ms. Pensky attempted to win a staring contest before snapping her gaze to Hope. The forced smile had Hope stepping behind Melanie and gripping her hand tighter. Why CPS would hire a woman who looked like the witch from The Wizard of Oz before the green makeup was beyond her.
“I’d like to ask you a few questions, Hope.”
Melanie was getting tired of playing nice. “Can we get into the house first?”
Ms. Pensky stepped aside and let them pass.
Wyatt jogged in behind them, eyeing the stranger. “Who is she?” he whispered in Melanie’s ear as he walked past her.
“Child Protective Services. Damn Nathan,” she gritted out in a voice only he could hear.
“Stall her. I’ll call my dad.”
Even through her building anger, Wyatt’s instant support made her wonder how she’d lived without him.
Wyatt set a bouquet of flowers on the hall table and a bag on the floor before going back outside.
Melanie all but ignored the stranger in the room while she gently helped her daughter out of her sweater. “She looks mean,” Hope whispered in her ear.
Amen to that, honey.
“I guess we’ll find out, huh?”
“Do I have to talk to her?”
Good question . . . Melanie didn’t really know her rights. Chances were, Wild Bill Gibson did and she’d find out soon enough.
“Should we get comfortable in the sitting room?” Ms. Pensky interrupted their private conversation.
Play nice, play nice, play nice.
Her internal chant wasn’t working. “It’s a long drive from Eugene, Ms. Pensky. Hope needs to use the bathroom.”
The woman wasn’t convinced.
“Mommy, I—”
“I know, sweetie, let me help you.” Melanie didn’t let Hope finish her sentence before taking her by the hand to the downstairs bathroom.
“But I don’t have to go.”
Melanie glanced behind her, saw Ms. Pensky watching them.
“Try, and take your time. So I can talk to the mean-looking lady.”
Hope peeked around and then shrank into the small room and shut the door.
Melanie pulled in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Play nice, play nice . . .
Ms. Pensky met her in the doorway to the sitting room; Miss Gina glaring at her side. “I really don’t have that many questions, Ms. Bartlett.”
“Yeah, well, it’s been a very long week, and putting my daughter through anything more is asking too much.”
“As a public servant, I’m obligated to investigate every report.”
“And who requested you to question my daughter?”
Ms. Pensky did that staring thing again. “I can’t reveal that information.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you can’t.”
Ms. Pensky lifted her nose to the air and sniffed. “Who smokes?”
Miss Gina sat forward. “I do on occasion. Outside, away from Hope.”
Oz Lady didn’t change her stare.
The sound of the toilet flushing down the hall brought their attention to the door as Hope left the bathroom.
“Ladies?” Ms. Pensky spread an arm wide to encourage them to sit.
Hope was practically crawling into Melanie’s lap when Wyatt hustled into the room.
He wore a wicked grin as he strode past Oz Lady and stood in front of her. “Hello, Miss . . . ?”