Always a Warrior(25)

“I hurt in places I didn’t know existed,” she complained as she slid carefully into a chair at the table.



Stacy ran to her, anxiety in her eyes. “Are you okay, Mommy?”



“I’ll be fine, honey,” Laurie assured her despite the aches and pains gnawing at her.



Stacy skipped off, eagerly watching Damien cook canned spaghetti and make salad.

Laurie refused to move. She leaned on her elbows on the table and tried to catalogue all the aches. She gave up. It was easier and quicker to say what didn’t hurt. Feeling like an overused punching bag, she ate slowly and in silence.



By the time she finished her meal the pain had eased some. But that was only the eye of the storm. Agony exploded across her shoulders as she pushed her chair back to take her plate to the sink. A groan escaped her and she went still.



“I’ll get it, Mommy!” Stacy raced around the table and snatched up the plate. A second later the piece of plastic clattered in the bottom of the sink. Stacy cleared the rest of the table then dashed up to the loft.



“Are you all right?” Damien demanded from across the table.



She lifted her head and met his concerned gaze. She stifled another moan. “I feel like the football after the Superbowl is over.”



He studied her for a moment then smiled. Approval lit his eyes. “You learn quickly.”



Shooting him a fierce glare, she rubbed her aching back. “Then why am I the one who was always on the ground?”



He chuckled. “You should have seen me when I first started martial arts training. It takes a while to get used to such intense exercise.”



“Count me out tomorrow.” She grimaced. “I’ll be too stiff to move.”



Stacy bounded downstairs with a drawing pad, pencils, and crayons. She spread everything over the table and turned wide green eyes on Damien.

ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening

38



“Want me to draw you a picture?” she demanded with childish confidence.



“Sure. Draw your mom.”



Startled, Laurie stared at him. His brown eyes twinkled as Stacy pushed a few pages across the corner of the table.



“You draw one, too,” she insisted, excitement lighting up her face.



“Yes, ma’am,” he conceded with mock formality.



He took the pages and picked up a pencil. With a good-natured grin, he sketched steadily for the next several minutes. Stacy concentrated fiercely, her small pink tongue stuck out the corner of her mouth. Laurie watched them and her heart melted even as her gaze lingered on the man at the end of the table.



He surprised her so often. Who was he? All day long he barked orders, portraying a harsh taskmaster. Now, he sketched alongside Stacy with the air of an indulgent father. Looking at them both, her heart melted again. She wished she had the notebook she had left upstairs. This was a family scene that demanded description. Her vision blurred at the edges, softening and framing the scene. The pain had faded slightly so she stayed in her chair. That scene would stay in her mind, in her heart, forever.



“I’m done!” Stacy announced, jolting Laurie out of her reverie.



Stacy ran around the table and thrust the drawing at Damien.



“Keep it,” she ordered cheerfully.



“I will.” He took the page and pretended to examine it critically. His eyes gleamed with teasing mischief as Stacy stared expectantly at him. “Let me see now.” He paused and let the silence linger. “Yes, I think so. It’s very good. Where shall I put it?”



“In your wallet,” Stacy replied with a child’s knowing air. “You always put people’s pictures in your wallet.”



“I believe you’re right.” Damien grinned and his eyebrows rose over the amused gleam in his eyes. He folded the paper and put it in his wallet. Laurie knew he would remove it at the first opportunity. He simply indulged Stacy for the moment.



Laurie interrupted their by-play. “It’s time for bed, young lady.”



“Okay.” Stacy submitted without whining to stay up longer. “Can Damien tuck me in?”



He stiffened and shot a startled glance at Laurie. As surprised by the request as Damien, Laurie only stared at her daughter then glanced at him.



“Please?” Stacy pleaded, peering at him through anxious eyes.



Not eager to move her aching body, Laurie shrugged and left the decision to him. Damien nodded hesitantly and grinned at Stacy.



“Come on, short stuff. Bedtime.”



He stood as Stacy darted around the table, planted a quick kiss on her mother’s cheek, and raced back. Damien swung her into his arms and carried her, squealing in delight, up to the loft.