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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: The Characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots and The Center are all property of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and are used without permission. No money has been involved here and no infringement is intended. 11/23/2002
A Voice Heard in Ramah (Part 8 - Patience tested) By Phenyx
"JAROD!" Parker screamed.
Jarod flew off the bed and hit the floor running before his mind even registered that he was awake. He was only a step behind her as Momma ran to the bedroom door and threw it open.
It was funny, Jarod thought fleetingly, that even in his own mind he was sometimes referring to her as Momma rather than just Parker.
The week that had passed since they had come to the cabin had been relatively smooth. Jarod's new family had fallen into an easy routine. Meals had gotten simpler to organize, playtime more relaxed and Parker had become amazingly adept in her maternal role.
The children were adapting to her rapidly. Parker seemed to have a natural sense with how to talk with them. Jarod had occasionally felt a bit jealous, as though his lack of parents had put him at an unfair advantage when it came to being a parent himself.
Timmy was especially clingy with his mother. The little boy was a worrisome, timid fellow in almost constant need of reassurance. Several times a day, he would rush up to his momma without warning and demand attention. Jarod's affection was always accepted when offered, but Tim didn't seek out his father the way he did his mother.
Charlie on the other hand, thought that his daddy was the greatest. He was a loving child, who willing gave hugs and kisses for any reason at all. The youngster was an outgoing, boisterous kid who seemed to be just a bit hyperactive. He thrilled at playing and roughhousing on the floor with Jarod. It was Charlie who first learned that beds were good for bouncing.
Even Catherine had started to open up some. Jarod, being too tall and intimidating for the little girl, wasn't allowed within two feet of the child without her screaming. But just last night, the girl had sat quietly on her mother's lap for the first time while Parker had read stories to them all.
All four children had crawled into Parker's bed for story time. Her smooth voice had read to them about Curious George and The Cat in the Hat. Her voice had risen with gentle inflections as she had imitated the different characters. The children had been enthralled.
Jarod, equally spellbound, had stretched across the foot of the bed. He had watched Momma deftly give equal attention to each child. As she had stroked Catherine's tangled hair, Jarod had felt the stab of jealousy again and he wasn't sure which of them he envied more.
Jarod had read Curious George dozens of times. Yet, the story was different somehow when Parker read it out loud. The nuances that she placed on different words gave the story new meaning to him. Eventually, for the first time that he could ever remember, Jarod had fallen asleep to the soothing tone of a bedtime story.
Fully awake now, Jarod dashed into the hallway directly behind Parker. It sounded like the house was coming down around his ears. A high-pitched trilling alarm shrieked from somewhere in the house. Panic slammed into Jarod's chest as he realized that he could smell smoke. They followed the racket down the hallway to the kitchen.
Jarod, being taller and faster than Parker, reached the kitchen first.
The room was in pandemonium. The refrigerator door was wide open and every container within had been opened and dumped on the floor. Milk ran in pasty rivulets across the shelves into puddles on the linoleum. Cereal and other dry goods had been pulled from the cabinet and sprayed everywhere.
Protruding from the slots of the toaster was a variety of items: a wooden spoon, a box of rice-a-roni and a melting rubber spatula. The spatula had succumbed to the heat, turning into smoldering goop. The resulting smoke had been just thick enough to set off the fire alarm. A chair pushed against the counter gave evidence of the tiny perpetrators of this crime.
The four vandals stood in the kitchen looking at Jarod with large eyes. Catherine was under the table, an open box of pop-tarts clutched to her chest, as she screamed a remarkable imitation of the smoke alarm. Her pitch was a perfect match.
Charlie was hopping up and down with a box of cereal so that toasted oats were flying everywhere. Tim, suspiciously clutching a plastic pancake turner, edged quickly away from the toaster toward the far wall.
With determined strides, Jarod crossed the room and yanked the toaster's plug from the wall. He threw open a nearby window and dropped the mangled, burning appliance outside. Leaving the window open so that the smoke could escape, Jarod reached up with one hand, flipped open the fire alarm and ripped the battery out.
When the warning siren stopped, so did Catherine's screaming. The resulting silence was thick with tension.
"What the hell is going on?" Jarod growled. The fear pounding in his chest was quickly changing to anger. He turned to the children and found JR standing before him.
Jarod frowned at the boy uneasily. JR was difficult to read. Jarod was never quite sure what the boy was thinking. Unlike the other children, Jarod couldn't predict how JR would react to new things. The little boy was eerily perplexing.
During the past week JR had been detached and suspicious. He was never difficult. He cooperated willingly with anything that either of his parents requested. He allowed both Jarod and Parker to hug him and to tuck him into bed at night. But he was so watchful, so deliberate in all of his actions. He rarely smiled.
As Jarod looked at JR now, he realized that the boy had placed himself between his father and the other children. The youngster's chocolate brown eyes watched Jarod expressionlessly.
"You're testing us." Jarod calmly said to the boy with a growing sense of understanding.
JR was the leader. That much had been obvious from day one. But his trust didn't come easily. Jarod knew that JR had orchestrated this display of disobedience to see what would happen. Now the boy was expecting Jarod to do something, but he wouldn't allow any harm to come to the others.
At that moment, in Jarod's mind JR became the eldest of his children. The boy's eyes reflected a wisdom and an intelligence far beyond his years. There was a knowledge there that can only be born through hardship. JR was the protector and the provider.
With abrupt clarity, Jarod understood what The Centre had done to this little boy.
JR was a pretender, a very good one. With continued training JR could have one day become the best pretender The Centre had ever seen. Because, JR had something that Jarod didn't. JR had two brothers that Raines would have used as motivation. JR would have never run away.
Jarod wanted to cry. He suddenly, desperately wanted to call Sydney. When he looked up, Jarod noticed Parker standing just a few feet away. She was looking at him with questions in her eyes.
"Are you okay?" She asked him. Jarod smiled sadly at her.
Parker understands me so well, he thought. She wasn't worried about the mess or the noise. Jarod knew she was concerned, not only about the children, but also for him.
Jarod nodded. "Why don't you go and get dressed, Momma." He said. "We are going to need to go into town to restock these shelves."
He turned and pulled a broom from the closet. Then Jarod pulled a roll of paper towels from the rack and wordlessly handed them to JR. The children watched silently for several long minutes while their father calmly swept debris into a pile. JR began mopping up puddles with huge handfuls of paper towels.
Quite sometime later, as Jarod tipped a final dustpan full of ruined cereal into the trash, he looked at JR and said grimly, "Someone could have gotten hurt." He paused then went on. "If Tim had stuck a fork in that toaster, or if Catherine had gotten hold of a knife."
"I would not have allowed them to injure themselves." JR said bluntly.
Jarod crouched down in front of his son. "You are just a little boy, JR. You don't have to take care of them anymore." Jarod placed a hand on the child's shoulder. "That's my job now. I'll take care of them and of you. But," he added firmly glancing at the other children as well. "We need to discuss a few rules."
"You frightened us very badly." Parker said as she re-entered the room. She had showered and was dressed in black jeans and a pink cotton shirt. "We thought you might be in danger."
"We didn't mean to scare you, Momma." Timmy cried tearfully.
"Well," Parker said gently. "Try to remember the rules so that you don't scared me so badly in the future, okay?"
"Rule number one." Jarod said seriously. "There are only three things you put in a toaster: bread, bagels and pop-tarts."
Charlie rushed into his father's arms excitedly and asked, "What's a bagel, Daddy?"
Jarod shook his head and laughed. "I'll show you. But let's get you children dressed so we can all go to the grocery store."
"Rule number two," Jarod continued. "Children sit quietly in the cart when in the grocery store. They ask before touching things and they do not run around."
"Do you think Catherine is up to this, Jarod?" Parker asked with concern.
Jarod glanced at the little girl under the table as she munched at the last pop-tart. He nodded. "If she gets over stimulated, we'll just tell everyone that she is autistic. Her symptoms mimic that kind of behavior anyway."
Jarod continued to list specific safety rules for the children as they prepared for their trip to the store. Parker added several of the more basic rules like don't run with scissors and never talk to strangers.
By late afternoon, listing the dozens of rules had become a game of memorization. Timmy, extremely serious about the safety rules, had even remembered the order in which the rules had been listed.
That night, Jarod went to tuck the children into bed.
"Let me get you tucked in nice and tight, Tim." Jarod said to the boy as he folded the blankets around the child's legs.
"Momma already did that." He replied.
Jarod nodded with understanding. "Does Momma tuck you in better?"
Tim seemed to think about that for a minute. "Not better." He finally answered. "Different." The little boy took Jarod's face in his hands. Soft little palms caressed the stubble on his father's cheeks. "Your kisses are prickly and they tickle." Tim observed. "But Momma smells nicer." He added with a yawn.
Jarod had to agree. "You are right, Timmy. Your Momma definitely smells nice." He said with a smile as he kissed the boy's cheek again.
When Jarod moved to the other top bunk bed, he found Charlie already sleeping soundly. 'Amazing.' Jarod thought. Charlie could be so wound up one minute, practically bouncing off the walls. But once he decided that it was time to sleep, the kid would go out like a light and he could sleep anywhere. Jarod kissed the curly head anyway before sliding down to the bunk below.
"Goodnight, JR." Jarod said as he sat on the bed beside the boy.
The little boy's smooth brown eyes studied him for a moment before JR said, "I am sorry that we made you angry this morning, Daddy."
Jarod raised his eyebrows. "I thought that making me angry was the point of the exercise." He stated knowingly.
"Maybe." JR answered cautiously.
Patting one little leg, Jarod asked, "Did I react the way you expected?"
Little shoulders shrugged. "You behaved according to one of the possible scenarios. I wouldn't say that it was the possibility that I had expected though."
Jarod stroked the little boy's forehead, brushing the hair from his eyes.
"Daddy?" JR spoke again.
"Hmm?"
Solemn little eyes watched Jarod fretfully. "I can't just stop."
Jarod frowned. "Stop what, JR?"
"Stop taking care of them, or her. I don't know how to be any other way." The boy said solemnly.
Jarod laid his head on the boy's chest and hugged him tightly. "I'll tell you what JR. You go on doing what you know. Just remember that you aren't alone in this anymore. Momma and I are here to help you."
JR's little hands patted Jarod's back as he returned the hug. "I'll remember," He whispered.
When Jarod sat up several minutes later, the little boy's eyes were drifting closed.
With a glace at the last bed, Jarod realized that it was empty. He crouched on the floor and looked underneath the bed. There was nothing there.
Leaving a nightlight burning on the dresser, Jarod pulled the door closed and began a casual search of the nearby rooms. Catherine wasn't in the kitchen or the living room. After an unsuccessful check of the main bath, Jarod stopped in front of the door leading to the master bedroom.
The door was slightly ajar. It pushed open a bit further when Jarod knocked softly on the panel.
Parker was sitting in front of a mirrored vanity, brushing her hair with long slow strokes.
"Sh." She hushed.
"Have you seen," Jarod asked quietly.
"She's at the end of the dresser." Parker interrupted with a whisper.
As Parker spoke, Jarod could see a tousled head and two dark eyes peek over the edge of the bureau. Jarod smiled tolerantly as he leaned nonchalantly against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. He watched silently as Catherine gazed at her mother in wonder.
Parker's repetitive action of drawing the brush through her hair was nearly hypnotic. Her long fingers weaved through her tresses as they followed the same path as the hairbrush. When she turned to the little girl and smiled, Jarod could see Parker's smile reflected in the mirror. She was dazzling.
Miss Parker held the brush out to the little girl who took it gleefully. The child scrambled onto the small bench where Parker sat and tried to mimic her mother's actions.
The mirror itself had been the object of much study several days ago when the children had first discovered their own images, but now it was the brush that held little Catherine enthralled.
The tangled mess on the girl's head was no match for the poor hairbrush and Catherine quickly became frustrated.
"Let Momma do it." Parker said softly as she took the brush. She tried unsuccessfully for several minutes to brush the little girl's hair without pulling it too badly. With a sigh, Parker placed the brush on the dresser and said, "I have a better idea."
Parker stood and held her hand out to the little girl who glanced fretfully at the abandoned brush. "Come on." Parker reassured her. "Momma will fix it."
Jarod cocked his head in fascination as Catherine took her mother's hand. When Parker led the girl into the attached bathroom, Jarod curiously followed at a distance.
On one wall of this bathroom was a large mirror located just above the sink. There was a long counter for makeup and such with the attached sink located at the far end. Parker pulled a towel from the rack and spread it out on the counter near the sink. She then lifted the girl onto the counter and laid her down on the towel so that her hair dangled in the basin.
Jarod was awed by the trust the girl had placed in this woman as Parker ran water into the sink. When the running water was warm enough, Parker gently tipped the little girl's head back and began cupping warm water over her head.
Catherine's hair was long and thick. It took some time for Parker to get it wet, one handful of water at a time. She then took a bottle of shampoo and gently lathered the girl's long locks. Parker rinsed the foam away and then generously applied conditioner.
As Parker massaged the formula into her hair, Catherine sighed contentedly and closed her eyes.
"You like that, don't you my love?" Parker whispered to her smiling daughter.
Once the girl's hair had been thoroughly conditioned and rinsed Parker held a dripping hand toward Jarod. He quickly pulled another towel from the closet he had been leaning against and handed the fluffy cotton to Parker. Catherine sat calmly on the counter while Parker squeezed most of the water from her wet hair.
Parker picked the little girl up and moved her to the bed. While Catherine sat on her lap, Parker took a comb and patiently unsnarled the girl's long tresses.
Jarod wasn't sure how long he watched in silence as Parker tended their daughter. Catherine sat there with the patience of a saint while Parker's diligence was equally unusual. Jarod's heart swelled as he watched the ragged little creature transform into an angelic-looking beauty.
Without her concealing veil of hair, Jarod was able to study his daughter's features closely for the first time.
The bruises they had found on Catherine's face the day they rescued her had disappeared entirely. Her skin was creamy and smooth as porcelain. Her large eyes, surrounded by incredibly long lashes, were such a deep dark brown that Jarod couldn't tell where her irises ended and the pupils began. Her high round cheekbones were accentuated by the small crescent shaped scar beneath her right eye.
Once the tangles had been removed, Parker brushed Catherine's waist long hair until it shined. The striking black orbs of the girl's eyes were punctuated even further by the astonishing color of her hair. Somewhere between red and brown, the coppery locks defied description.
"You've got split ends." Parker said lovingly to her daughter. "We'll have to cut it."
"Don't you dare," Jarod gasped. "Its beautiful. She's beautiful."
Parker nodded, closed her eyes and pulled the little girl to her chest. Rocking gently back and forth, Parker murmured, "We may be a little prejudiced, but I have to agree. She's lovely."
"She is so much like you, Parker." Jarod whispered.
Parker smiled. "She gets the hair from your side of the family."
"She is so strong, so determined." Jarod added. "Look how quickly she's learning to adjust to everything."
Parker glanced at him, happiness shining in her eyes. "She has a terrible temper." Parker laughed.
Catherine had thrown an angry tantrum at dinner earlier. The little girl had wanted something but had been unable to communicate her wishes to anyone. Her frustration had grown until she collapsed in a screaming fit of rage.
It had been JR who had figured out that she wanted more milk. While Jarod and Parker had tried futilely to calm the disturbed little girl, JR had patiently retrieved different items from the dinner table and offered them to her until he happened upon the item she wanted.
"Like I said, she is so much like you." Jarod teased.
Jarod sighed. Catherine was curled in her mother's arms, sleeping peacefully. He crossed the room and crouched on the floor in front of Parker.
"We make beautiful babies don't we, Parker?" Jarod sighed as he stroked their daughter's cheek with the back of his hand.
With a start, the little girl snapped awake. She shrieked and darted off Parker's lap, scrambling across the bed to get away from her father.
Jarod grimaced, backing away with his hands up in what he hoped was a submissive gesture. Jarod swallowed hard. He hadn't meant to frighten the child. Her reaction to Jarod's touch broke his heart.
Parker looked at Jarod sorrowfully. "She doesn't understand, Jarod. She just needs more time."
"I know." Jarod nodded. He began backing quickly out of the room. "I'm sorry." He said shakily. Jarod hastily left the room. Leaning against the wall in the hallway he sucked in deep breaths to try to control the desolate feeling in his chest.
Feeling as though he was a hundred years old, Jarod walked dejectedly toward the living room and the couch he was using as a bed.
A Voice Heard in Ramah (Part 8 - Patience tested) By Phenyx
"JAROD!" Parker screamed.
Jarod flew off the bed and hit the floor running before his mind even registered that he was awake. He was only a step behind her as Momma ran to the bedroom door and threw it open.
It was funny, Jarod thought fleetingly, that even in his own mind he was sometimes referring to her as Momma rather than just Parker.
The week that had passed since they had come to the cabin had been relatively smooth. Jarod's new family had fallen into an easy routine. Meals had gotten simpler to organize, playtime more relaxed and Parker had become amazingly adept in her maternal role.
The children were adapting to her rapidly. Parker seemed to have a natural sense with how to talk with them. Jarod had occasionally felt a bit jealous, as though his lack of parents had put him at an unfair advantage when it came to being a parent himself.
Timmy was especially clingy with his mother. The little boy was a worrisome, timid fellow in almost constant need of reassurance. Several times a day, he would rush up to his momma without warning and demand attention. Jarod's affection was always accepted when offered, but Tim didn't seek out his father the way he did his mother.
Charlie on the other hand, thought that his daddy was the greatest. He was a loving child, who willing gave hugs and kisses for any reason at all. The youngster was an outgoing, boisterous kid who seemed to be just a bit hyperactive. He thrilled at playing and roughhousing on the floor with Jarod. It was Charlie who first learned that beds were good for bouncing.
Even Catherine had started to open up some. Jarod, being too tall and intimidating for the little girl, wasn't allowed within two feet of the child without her screaming. But just last night, the girl had sat quietly on her mother's lap for the first time while Parker had read stories to them all.
All four children had crawled into Parker's bed for story time. Her smooth voice had read to them about Curious George and The Cat in the Hat. Her voice had risen with gentle inflections as she had imitated the different characters. The children had been enthralled.
Jarod, equally spellbound, had stretched across the foot of the bed. He had watched Momma deftly give equal attention to each child. As she had stroked Catherine's tangled hair, Jarod had felt the stab of jealousy again and he wasn't sure which of them he envied more.
Jarod had read Curious George dozens of times. Yet, the story was different somehow when Parker read it out loud. The nuances that she placed on different words gave the story new meaning to him. Eventually, for the first time that he could ever remember, Jarod had fallen asleep to the soothing tone of a bedtime story.
Fully awake now, Jarod dashed into the hallway directly behind Parker. It sounded like the house was coming down around his ears. A high-pitched trilling alarm shrieked from somewhere in the house. Panic slammed into Jarod's chest as he realized that he could smell smoke. They followed the racket down the hallway to the kitchen.
Jarod, being taller and faster than Parker, reached the kitchen first.
The room was in pandemonium. The refrigerator door was wide open and every container within had been opened and dumped on the floor. Milk ran in pasty rivulets across the shelves into puddles on the linoleum. Cereal and other dry goods had been pulled from the cabinet and sprayed everywhere.
Protruding from the slots of the toaster was a variety of items: a wooden spoon, a box of rice-a-roni and a melting rubber spatula. The spatula had succumbed to the heat, turning into smoldering goop. The resulting smoke had been just thick enough to set off the fire alarm. A chair pushed against the counter gave evidence of the tiny perpetrators of this crime.
The four vandals stood in the kitchen looking at Jarod with large eyes. Catherine was under the table, an open box of pop-tarts clutched to her chest, as she screamed a remarkable imitation of the smoke alarm. Her pitch was a perfect match.
Charlie was hopping up and down with a box of cereal so that toasted oats were flying everywhere. Tim, suspiciously clutching a plastic pancake turner, edged quickly away from the toaster toward the far wall.
With determined strides, Jarod crossed the room and yanked the toaster's plug from the wall. He threw open a nearby window and dropped the mangled, burning appliance outside. Leaving the window open so that the smoke could escape, Jarod reached up with one hand, flipped open the fire alarm and ripped the battery out.
When the warning siren stopped, so did Catherine's screaming. The resulting silence was thick with tension.
"What the hell is going on?" Jarod growled. The fear pounding in his chest was quickly changing to anger. He turned to the children and found JR standing before him.
Jarod frowned at the boy uneasily. JR was difficult to read. Jarod was never quite sure what the boy was thinking. Unlike the other children, Jarod couldn't predict how JR would react to new things. The little boy was eerily perplexing.
During the past week JR had been detached and suspicious. He was never difficult. He cooperated willingly with anything that either of his parents requested. He allowed both Jarod and Parker to hug him and to tuck him into bed at night. But he was so watchful, so deliberate in all of his actions. He rarely smiled.
As Jarod looked at JR now, he realized that the boy had placed himself between his father and the other children. The youngster's chocolate brown eyes watched Jarod expressionlessly.
"You're testing us." Jarod calmly said to the boy with a growing sense of understanding.
JR was the leader. That much had been obvious from day one. But his trust didn't come easily. Jarod knew that JR had orchestrated this display of disobedience to see what would happen. Now the boy was expecting Jarod to do something, but he wouldn't allow any harm to come to the others.
At that moment, in Jarod's mind JR became the eldest of his children. The boy's eyes reflected a wisdom and an intelligence far beyond his years. There was a knowledge there that can only be born through hardship. JR was the protector and the provider.
With abrupt clarity, Jarod understood what The Centre had done to this little boy.
JR was a pretender, a very good one. With continued training JR could have one day become the best pretender The Centre had ever seen. Because, JR had something that Jarod didn't. JR had two brothers that Raines would have used as motivation. JR would have never run away.
Jarod wanted to cry. He suddenly, desperately wanted to call Sydney. When he looked up, Jarod noticed Parker standing just a few feet away. She was looking at him with questions in her eyes.
"Are you okay?" She asked him. Jarod smiled sadly at her.
Parker understands me so well, he thought. She wasn't worried about the mess or the noise. Jarod knew she was concerned, not only about the children, but also for him.
Jarod nodded. "Why don't you go and get dressed, Momma." He said. "We are going to need to go into town to restock these shelves."
He turned and pulled a broom from the closet. Then Jarod pulled a roll of paper towels from the rack and wordlessly handed them to JR. The children watched silently for several long minutes while their father calmly swept debris into a pile. JR began mopping up puddles with huge handfuls of paper towels.
Quite sometime later, as Jarod tipped a final dustpan full of ruined cereal into the trash, he looked at JR and said grimly, "Someone could have gotten hurt." He paused then went on. "If Tim had stuck a fork in that toaster, or if Catherine had gotten hold of a knife."
"I would not have allowed them to injure themselves." JR said bluntly.
Jarod crouched down in front of his son. "You are just a little boy, JR. You don't have to take care of them anymore." Jarod placed a hand on the child's shoulder. "That's my job now. I'll take care of them and of you. But," he added firmly glancing at the other children as well. "We need to discuss a few rules."
"You frightened us very badly." Parker said as she re-entered the room. She had showered and was dressed in black jeans and a pink cotton shirt. "We thought you might be in danger."
"We didn't mean to scare you, Momma." Timmy cried tearfully.
"Well," Parker said gently. "Try to remember the rules so that you don't scared me so badly in the future, okay?"
"Rule number one." Jarod said seriously. "There are only three things you put in a toaster: bread, bagels and pop-tarts."
Charlie rushed into his father's arms excitedly and asked, "What's a bagel, Daddy?"
Jarod shook his head and laughed. "I'll show you. But let's get you children dressed so we can all go to the grocery store."
"Rule number two," Jarod continued. "Children sit quietly in the cart when in the grocery store. They ask before touching things and they do not run around."
"Do you think Catherine is up to this, Jarod?" Parker asked with concern.
Jarod glanced at the little girl under the table as she munched at the last pop-tart. He nodded. "If she gets over stimulated, we'll just tell everyone that she is autistic. Her symptoms mimic that kind of behavior anyway."
Jarod continued to list specific safety rules for the children as they prepared for their trip to the store. Parker added several of the more basic rules like don't run with scissors and never talk to strangers.
By late afternoon, listing the dozens of rules had become a game of memorization. Timmy, extremely serious about the safety rules, had even remembered the order in which the rules had been listed.
That night, Jarod went to tuck the children into bed.
"Let me get you tucked in nice and tight, Tim." Jarod said to the boy as he folded the blankets around the child's legs.
"Momma already did that." He replied.
Jarod nodded with understanding. "Does Momma tuck you in better?"
Tim seemed to think about that for a minute. "Not better." He finally answered. "Different." The little boy took Jarod's face in his hands. Soft little palms caressed the stubble on his father's cheeks. "Your kisses are prickly and they tickle." Tim observed. "But Momma smells nicer." He added with a yawn.
Jarod had to agree. "You are right, Timmy. Your Momma definitely smells nice." He said with a smile as he kissed the boy's cheek again.
When Jarod moved to the other top bunk bed, he found Charlie already sleeping soundly. 'Amazing.' Jarod thought. Charlie could be so wound up one minute, practically bouncing off the walls. But once he decided that it was time to sleep, the kid would go out like a light and he could sleep anywhere. Jarod kissed the curly head anyway before sliding down to the bunk below.
"Goodnight, JR." Jarod said as he sat on the bed beside the boy.
The little boy's smooth brown eyes studied him for a moment before JR said, "I am sorry that we made you angry this morning, Daddy."
Jarod raised his eyebrows. "I thought that making me angry was the point of the exercise." He stated knowingly.
"Maybe." JR answered cautiously.
Patting one little leg, Jarod asked, "Did I react the way you expected?"
Little shoulders shrugged. "You behaved according to one of the possible scenarios. I wouldn't say that it was the possibility that I had expected though."
Jarod stroked the little boy's forehead, brushing the hair from his eyes.
"Daddy?" JR spoke again.
"Hmm?"
Solemn little eyes watched Jarod fretfully. "I can't just stop."
Jarod frowned. "Stop what, JR?"
"Stop taking care of them, or her. I don't know how to be any other way." The boy said solemnly.
Jarod laid his head on the boy's chest and hugged him tightly. "I'll tell you what JR. You go on doing what you know. Just remember that you aren't alone in this anymore. Momma and I are here to help you."
JR's little hands patted Jarod's back as he returned the hug. "I'll remember," He whispered.
When Jarod sat up several minutes later, the little boy's eyes were drifting closed.
With a glace at the last bed, Jarod realized that it was empty. He crouched on the floor and looked underneath the bed. There was nothing there.
Leaving a nightlight burning on the dresser, Jarod pulled the door closed and began a casual search of the nearby rooms. Catherine wasn't in the kitchen or the living room. After an unsuccessful check of the main bath, Jarod stopped in front of the door leading to the master bedroom.
The door was slightly ajar. It pushed open a bit further when Jarod knocked softly on the panel.
Parker was sitting in front of a mirrored vanity, brushing her hair with long slow strokes.
"Sh." She hushed.
"Have you seen," Jarod asked quietly.
"She's at the end of the dresser." Parker interrupted with a whisper.
As Parker spoke, Jarod could see a tousled head and two dark eyes peek over the edge of the bureau. Jarod smiled tolerantly as he leaned nonchalantly against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. He watched silently as Catherine gazed at her mother in wonder.
Parker's repetitive action of drawing the brush through her hair was nearly hypnotic. Her long fingers weaved through her tresses as they followed the same path as the hairbrush. When she turned to the little girl and smiled, Jarod could see Parker's smile reflected in the mirror. She was dazzling.
Miss Parker held the brush out to the little girl who took it gleefully. The child scrambled onto the small bench where Parker sat and tried to mimic her mother's actions.
The mirror itself had been the object of much study several days ago when the children had first discovered their own images, but now it was the brush that held little Catherine enthralled.
The tangled mess on the girl's head was no match for the poor hairbrush and Catherine quickly became frustrated.
"Let Momma do it." Parker said softly as she took the brush. She tried unsuccessfully for several minutes to brush the little girl's hair without pulling it too badly. With a sigh, Parker placed the brush on the dresser and said, "I have a better idea."
Parker stood and held her hand out to the little girl who glanced fretfully at the abandoned brush. "Come on." Parker reassured her. "Momma will fix it."
Jarod cocked his head in fascination as Catherine took her mother's hand. When Parker led the girl into the attached bathroom, Jarod curiously followed at a distance.
On one wall of this bathroom was a large mirror located just above the sink. There was a long counter for makeup and such with the attached sink located at the far end. Parker pulled a towel from the rack and spread it out on the counter near the sink. She then lifted the girl onto the counter and laid her down on the towel so that her hair dangled in the basin.
Jarod was awed by the trust the girl had placed in this woman as Parker ran water into the sink. When the running water was warm enough, Parker gently tipped the little girl's head back and began cupping warm water over her head.
Catherine's hair was long and thick. It took some time for Parker to get it wet, one handful of water at a time. She then took a bottle of shampoo and gently lathered the girl's long locks. Parker rinsed the foam away and then generously applied conditioner.
As Parker massaged the formula into her hair, Catherine sighed contentedly and closed her eyes.
"You like that, don't you my love?" Parker whispered to her smiling daughter.
Once the girl's hair had been thoroughly conditioned and rinsed Parker held a dripping hand toward Jarod. He quickly pulled another towel from the closet he had been leaning against and handed the fluffy cotton to Parker. Catherine sat calmly on the counter while Parker squeezed most of the water from her wet hair.
Parker picked the little girl up and moved her to the bed. While Catherine sat on her lap, Parker took a comb and patiently unsnarled the girl's long tresses.
Jarod wasn't sure how long he watched in silence as Parker tended their daughter. Catherine sat there with the patience of a saint while Parker's diligence was equally unusual. Jarod's heart swelled as he watched the ragged little creature transform into an angelic-looking beauty.
Without her concealing veil of hair, Jarod was able to study his daughter's features closely for the first time.
The bruises they had found on Catherine's face the day they rescued her had disappeared entirely. Her skin was creamy and smooth as porcelain. Her large eyes, surrounded by incredibly long lashes, were such a deep dark brown that Jarod couldn't tell where her irises ended and the pupils began. Her high round cheekbones were accentuated by the small crescent shaped scar beneath her right eye.
Once the tangles had been removed, Parker brushed Catherine's waist long hair until it shined. The striking black orbs of the girl's eyes were punctuated even further by the astonishing color of her hair. Somewhere between red and brown, the coppery locks defied description.
"You've got split ends." Parker said lovingly to her daughter. "We'll have to cut it."
"Don't you dare," Jarod gasped. "Its beautiful. She's beautiful."
Parker nodded, closed her eyes and pulled the little girl to her chest. Rocking gently back and forth, Parker murmured, "We may be a little prejudiced, but I have to agree. She's lovely."
"She is so much like you, Parker." Jarod whispered.
Parker smiled. "She gets the hair from your side of the family."
"She is so strong, so determined." Jarod added. "Look how quickly she's learning to adjust to everything."
Parker glanced at him, happiness shining in her eyes. "She has a terrible temper." Parker laughed.
Catherine had thrown an angry tantrum at dinner earlier. The little girl had wanted something but had been unable to communicate her wishes to anyone. Her frustration had grown until she collapsed in a screaming fit of rage.
It had been JR who had figured out that she wanted more milk. While Jarod and Parker had tried futilely to calm the disturbed little girl, JR had patiently retrieved different items from the dinner table and offered them to her until he happened upon the item she wanted.
"Like I said, she is so much like you." Jarod teased.
Jarod sighed. Catherine was curled in her mother's arms, sleeping peacefully. He crossed the room and crouched on the floor in front of Parker.
"We make beautiful babies don't we, Parker?" Jarod sighed as he stroked their daughter's cheek with the back of his hand.
With a start, the little girl snapped awake. She shrieked and darted off Parker's lap, scrambling across the bed to get away from her father.
Jarod grimaced, backing away with his hands up in what he hoped was a submissive gesture. Jarod swallowed hard. He hadn't meant to frighten the child. Her reaction to Jarod's touch broke his heart.
Parker looked at Jarod sorrowfully. "She doesn't understand, Jarod. She just needs more time."
"I know." Jarod nodded. He began backing quickly out of the room. "I'm sorry." He said shakily. Jarod hastily left the room. Leaning against the wall in the hallway he sucked in deep breaths to try to control the desolate feeling in his chest.
Feeling as though he was a hundred years old, Jarod walked dejectedly toward the living room and the couch he was using as a bed.
