Free Home Sweet Home by Lizzie Lane Page A

enough and, thank God, she hadn’t mentioned anything about finding her mother while waiting for the trip to come together. It had taken quite a lot longer than they’d imagined. Perhaps she had already changed her mind.
    Frances told him she would be fine before doing a swift head count of her charges.
    â€˜I just want to make sure that I have the same number of children at the end of the journey as I do at the beginning.’
    She noticed one of the Gates boys wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jacket. ‘Peter, isn’t it?’
    â€˜Paul,’ came the shouted reply.
    â€˜Right. Do you have a handkerchief?’
    He shook his head.
    Frances sighed. She’d never expected this to be easy, but neither had she expected the whole exercise to make her feel so happy. She went back to counting and reeling off their names.
    â€˜Paul, Patricia, Ellen and Maggie, and Patrick?’
    The boy shook his head. ‘Lancelot. My name’s Sir Lancelot.’
    â€˜No, it isn’t. It’s Patrick.’
    â€˜No. I’m Sir Lancelot!’ The smallest boy was adamant that he’d been named after a knight of the Round Table.
    Frances exchanged a brief glance with Ruby and sighed. ‘Okay. Be Sir Lancelot if you like, but just get in the back of the truck here. Unfortunately, we can’t supply you with a horse.’
    The driver’s door of the small truck, a Jeep with a canvas-covered rear, opened and the driver stepped out. ‘Here. Let me help you kids get in.’
    Ruby was taken aback. ‘Declan! You didn’t say you’d be driving.’
    Frances stared. She hadn’t expected it to be Ruby’s friend Declan either.
    Declan shrugged in that casual, obliging way of his. His uniform looked to be newly pressed, and his boots shone to within an inch of their lives, as if he was going on parade or somewhere special, not shepherding a bunch of evacuees.
    â€˜There was nobody else. The kids need help, so me and Uncle Sam are giving it. All I need is for somebody to show me how to get there!’
    Stan Sweet shook the American’s hand. ‘Frances knows the way.’
    Dr Foster had also dropped by. He too took Declan’s hand in both of his and gave it a hefty shake. ‘Glad to hear it. We really appreciate this.’
    â€˜No problem, Doc. Happy to oblige.’
    Frances couldn’t help but be drawn to Declan’s smile. It was the kind of smile that spoke a whole volume without the need for words. She had the impression that it was for her alone. That, and the roguish look in his eyes. She blushed.
    Ruby was alarmed when she saw who was driving. If she could have called it off, she would have, though that was impossible. Everyone would think her mad and want to know a reason why. She was loath to do that. Nothing had happened between Declan and her cousin, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t. Was she the only one who could sense the attraction between them, or was she just imaging things? She didn’t think so.
    Frances made a big effort to look unconcerned, as though she really didn’t care much that she would be travelling for hours with a man who puzzled and unnerved her. She also had a sneaking suspicion that he had purposely arranged to undertake this journey, not only out of the kindness of his heart. She could feel something radiating from him, something that made her tingle from the top of her head to the tips of her toes; something she could not ignore.
    â€˜We’d better get going,’ she said, trying not to sound flustered.
    â€˜Sure. I understand we’ve got a ferry to catch.’
    Although his smile was controlled, she almost flinched at the challenging look in his eyes.
    Ruby opened her mouth, about to say that they might not be able to get on it. The transportation of war commodities and military personnel had priority.
    Uncle Stan voiced the possibility before she did.
    Declan was a picture of