Charlene Sands
“Gregory set a plate of eggs and bacon out for Cole and poured him a cup of coffee. Meggie sat at the kitchen table facing him, wearing a loose-fitting flowered nightdress, stabbing at her oatmeal with a frown.
“Eat up, little missy,” Mrs. Gregory encouraged, bringing the bowl a bit closer to entice his daughter. Meggie was having no part of it.
“I don’t like oatmeal,” she announced solemnly.
“Meggie, take a bite or two—for Daddy?”
Cole witnessed the stark determination in his daughter’s eyes. S...he might have Jeb’s late wife’s blond hair and coloring, but she certainly didn’t have her accommodating qualities. That could only mean she had a streak of the infamous, stubborn Bradshaw nature.
“One bite, Daddy,” she said, lifting the spoon up to her mouth. After that taste, she shoved the bowl away, causing Mrs. Gregory to pucker her wrinkled mouth. He knew Mrs. Gregory didn’t rightly approve of Cole’s indulgent ways with Meggie, but Cole felt somewhat justified.MoreLess
“Eat up, little missy,” Mrs. Gregory encouraged, bringing the bowl a bit closer to entice his daughter. Meggie was having no part of it.
“I don’t like oatmeal,” she announced solemnly.
“Meggie, take a bite or two—for Daddy?”
Cole witnessed the stark determination in his daughter’s eyes. S...he might have Jeb’s late wife’s blond hair and coloring, but she certainly didn’t have her accommodating qualities. That could only mean she had a streak of the infamous, stubborn Bradshaw nature.
“One bite, Daddy,” she said, lifting the spoon up to her mouth. After that taste, she shoved the bowl away, causing Mrs. Gregory to pucker her wrinkled mouth. He knew Mrs. Gregory didn’t rightly approve of Cole’s indulgent ways with Meggie, but Cole felt somewhat justified.MoreLess
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