Free Shannon's Daughter by Karen Welch

being sick all over you.”  
    Despite
his present state of exhaustion, he recognized when he was being manipulated by
a female, even a very young one.
    “I
don’t hate you.   I’m just tired.   And you should be too.”
    “I took
naps, remember?”   She was silent long
enough to cause him to raise his head warily.  
    “You’re
sure I can’t get you anything?”  
    “I’d
love some more ginger ale, but then I’d just have to. . . again.”   She cocked her head toward
the door with a meaningful twist of her lips.
    “Then
we’ll just make another trip down the hall.   You can’t go without fluids.   You’ll get dehydrated.   And cranky.”   He
couldn’t help grinning at her.   In her soiled,
rumpled clothes, her hair a tangled mess with one braid unraveling, she looked
more like a street urchin than a self-proclaimed princess.
    She
grinned back, a gamine-like smirk.   “Cranky?   I’m never cranky.”
    “Ha!   We can debate that later.   Now I suppose you’d like that ginger ale on
ice, wouldn’t you?”
    “Uh-huh.   And a straw, please.   There should be some in the drawer by the
sink.”

 
 
 
    Chapter Seven

 
    Katie
arrived at seven, entering by way of the rear stairs as usual.   On a normal morning, she’d have found Peg in
the kitchen with juice and dry toast, while her father sat with a mug of tea
eagerly awaiting his fry-up.   At the
sight of a disheveled, bleary-eyed man at the sink filling the kettle, she let
out a little shriek and would have retraced her steps in terror, had not Peg,
now on the sofa in the sitting room, intervened.
    “It’s
all right, Katie.   Kendall is my
cousin.   He’s also my Sir Galahad.”   She pointed meaningfully to her cast.   “I had a little accident yesterday.   Kendall rescued me.”
    “Good
heavens, Miss!   What have you done to
yourself?”
    Curtly,
as befit his current mood, Kendall supplied, “Broken ankle.   Lucky it wasn’t her neck.”   He handed Peg her juice and scowled down at
her.   “I’ll leave you to fill Katie here
in on the details.   I’m going to clean
myself up a bit, if you don’t object.   I
can’t stand myself much longer.”
    “Go
ahead.   Are you sure you don’t want me to
help you to the bathroom?”   She scrunched
her freshly scrubbed nose and grinned.
    “Brat!”
he called over his shoulder, hurrying toward the possibility of at least
brushing his teeth before she had any further need of him.
    He’d
been wakened at first light by Peg’s stifled giggle.   “You snore!”   Having slept the remainder of the night in the chair, his neck was
stiff, his legs numb, and he felt sure he had drooled all over himself.  
    “So do
you,” seemed a fitting response.   “How’s
the leg?   It obviously didn’t keep you
awake.”   She looked annoying fresh
beneath the mop of tangled hair.
    “It’s
not so bad.   But I’m gross.   Look in the wardrobe.   My bathrobe is in there.   It should be decent enough.   Just get me to the bathroom and I can do the
rest.”   Orders given, she beamed a
winsome smile in his direction.   “Please?”
    She did
a remarkable job.   Face washed, teeth
sparkling and her hair brushed to a deep golden sheen, he was grudgingly
impressed.   “You look quite human
again.   Considering.”
    “Thanks.   Now take me to the couch, please.   I couldn’t stand another minute in that
bed.   Katie’s going to have to fumigate
the whole room.”
    “Yes,
m’lady.   Would you like for me to carry you, or would
you prefer to hop your way there?”   He
stood back, watching her pivot on one foot.  
    “If I
didn’t like you so much, I’d make you carry me again.   But since you’re such a nice guy, I’ll
hop.   How’s your back, by the way?”
    “Probably
fractured in several places, but never mind that.   A hunchbacked violinist may not be that rare
a sight.”   As they shuffled toward the
sitting room, he nodded toward