Annabelle's Angel by Therese M. Travis Page A

and a short goatee, and blue eyes that managed to twinkle even from across the sanctuary. They were much closer now. Too close.
    Annabelle stepped back, one hand going to her cheek to make sure her hair covered her eye and eyebrow.
    “Hi. I'm Rick.” He held out a hand. “Joe and Liam’s coach.”
    “Right. Liam said you were picking them up.” She engineered a half-second shake before she backed away again. “Come in for a minute. The boys are getting food.”
    He nodded and shut the door behind him.
    Matt bumped Annabelle from behind and got right under Rick's feet, staring upward, his eyes wide and awed. He didn't run into many men, not up close like this, although Joe, at sixteen, was galloping up on six feet, Liam not far behind. But this guy had quite a few inches and plenty of pounds on them.
    “Do you know how to make a snow angel?”
    “Oh, Mattie, he's not interested in—”
    But Rick held out his hand. “Yeah, actually, I do. I used to live near Chicago. My cousins taught me.”
    “Could you show us?”
    His lips twitched. “Do you have any snow?”
    Matt shook his head and went on staring.
    Rick looked at Annabelle, his eyebrows quirked in a question.
    “I was just reading them a story, so they were wondering,” she said.
    “You should take them up in the mountains one day and show them how to make one.” Rick smiled at all three of the kids gazing up at him.
    “She doesn't know how.” Brody’s voice dripped scorn. “You'd have to teach her first. Unless you take us. Then Annabelle could stay home. Annabelle always wants to stay home.”
    And sometimes, she wanted to strangle a younger brother or two.
    Before Rick could answer, Liam and Joe pounded out of the kitchen, as noisy as ever. Annabelle shushed them and shooed them out with one motion.
    “How come I never see your parents?” she heard Rick ask.
    “They died.”
    The bald answer from Liam sent shudders through Annabelle, and she risked another look outside.
    “Our Grandma lives here, too,” Joe said.
    Before Annabelle shut the door, she saw the look on Rick's face. Pity. She wouldn’t tolerate her own pity, why would she accept someone else’s?
     
    ~*~
     
    Rick stumbled off the curb before he managed to get his car door unlocked. Was she watching? He managed not to peek back at the house to check, and the meaning of Joe’s last words hit him. “Both your parents? They both died?”
    “Yeah. They were in a car accident.”
    Liam, as usual, had more to say on the subject. “Grandma was driving, and Annabelle was in the car, too. And this truck ran into them. Bam! ” He shut his car door before he demonstrated the accident with his hands. “We never even got to see the car after that. Annabelle made them junk it.”
    “It still bothers her to think about it,” Joe said.
    “Does it bother your grandmother?”
    “Well, yeah. That’s why she doesn’t drive.” Joe scratched his head. “Annabelle’s as good as a mom, though. Especially to the little kids.”
    The more he heard about her, the more Rick realized their oldest sister was something else. Pretty, even with her straight blond hair covering half her face. “Your sister's name is Annabelle?”
    Joe nodded. “That's her.”
    “I’ve never met her before.”
    “Sure, you have. She takes us to practice and the games most of the time.”
    “Oh.” He started the engine and pulled onto the quiet street. “I got the idea she didn't leave the house.”
    “She does, she just doesn't like to. ’Cuz of—” Joe made the same gesture Annabelle had when she'd opened the door, sliding her hand against the hair covering her eye.
    Liam poked him.
    “Because of what?”
    “Just stuff.” Joe stared out the window.
    Right. Now Rick really wanted to know. Or maybe it was that he wanted to know Annabelle.
    After the game, which ended in a defeat brought on by the coach's appalling lack of attention, Rick took the Archer boys home. They argued the entire way over whose