Paper Moon by Linda Windsor Page B

end, he couldn’t fix it. So he’d retreated into his business, where he did have control.
    Now Karen obviously found something wrong with him, or something was wrong with her. And once again, he felt powerless to fix it.
    â€œNothing is tried and true when it comes to raising kids.” Caroline made a rueful grimace. “It’s a shame babies don’t come with instructions.”
    â€œMaybe Mark Twain had the answer. Something about putting them in a barrel when they’re little and feeding them through the bunghole. And when they become teens, plug the hole.”
    Although at the moment, he’d prefer to put John Scott Chandler in one.
    Blaine reached for his drink and looked at Caroline. As a single mother, she must have had her share of problems, although Annie appeared to be the wholesome girl-next-door type. That was it. The mother was a mature version of the same type—not the kind to catch a man’s eye at the first pass, but the kind a guy might confide in. The kind with whom a guy could follow more than one train of thought.
    â€œActually, I take that back.”
    He gave himself a mental shake. “Take what back?”
    â€œBabies do come with instructions, actually.” Her gaze lit up like the glass ball over the dance floor. “The Bible, silly.”
    â€œOh.” Out of politeness, he held back a “Been there, done that.” Didn’t work then. Didn’t work now.
    Tonight he’d acted on an urge evoked by the pink tract the lady at the airport had given him. It had fallen out of his pocket when he hung up his sports coat. As he put it on the top of the TV, he’d read it again. Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain. In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat, for he grants sleep to those he loves.
    The straw that broke his back was the mental picture of Karen’s disappointment when he’d told her that he wasn’t going to Banditos with the group. Her initial surprised welcome gave him heart, but the stay was becoming miserable, save present company.
    â€œAnd in addition to raising kids with the Word, the Bible says we shouldn’t provoke our children, and they need to honor us. It’s an exchange of respect that has to be earned on both sides.”
    Blaine didn’t want to go there . . . not into a biblical debate. Politics and religion were taboo subjects if one was enjoying the company of others. And he was. A glow of realization emanated from his brain to the rest of him, warm and pleasant.
    The music slowed again. He didn’t recognize the song, but it gave him an out. “What do you say we show these youngsters a thing or two on the dance floor?”
    Her surprise gave way to delight. “I’d love to.”
    â€œWant to leave the jacket here? It’s probably warmer out there away from that air vent over our table.”
    With a glance at it, as if she hadn’t noticed the air-conditioning outlet before, Caroline drew his coat closer around her. “Now I know why I’m so cold-natured tonight, but I’ll keep this, if you don’t mind.”
    â€œSuit yourself.” Blaine took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor.
    As he took her into his arms, he doubted that Caroline Spencer had a cold-natured cell in her body. She was sunshine and warmth from the soul out. Distracted by the wildflower scent of her hair, he hardly noticed when she scuffed his freshly shined shoes until she glanced up with a wide-eyed apology.
    â€œSorry. I . . . I haven’t danced in—” She shrugged, her shoulders lost in his jacket. “In I don’t know how long.”
    â€œMe neither.” Not since Ellie was killed. Blaine filed the thought in the back of his mind. He was supposed to be relaxing.
    â€œAnd I have a second left foot,” she babbled on