Kitabı oku: «Father Most Blessed», sayfa 3

Chapter Three

A lex hadn’t hired her, and maybe he wouldn’t. But she couldn’t just let things go. Paula pulled into the garage late that afternoon, aware of how pitiful her junker looked in the cavernous building. Aunt Maida was still groggy from the successful surgery, but she’d soon be well enough to demand a report. Paula had to be able to reassure her.

She walked quickly to the back door of the mansion. A small bicycle leaned against the laundry room door, reminding her of Jason and the matches. She should have told Alex, but their conversation had veered off in another direction entirely, and she hadn’t found the words. Maybe she still hadn’t.

Even the geranium on the kitchen window sill seemed to droop in Maida’s absence. Breakfast dishes, stacked in the sink, made it clear that when Alex said he’d fix breakfast for himself and Jason, he hadn’t considered cleaning up. She turned the water on. It wasn’t her job. Alex hadn’t hired her. But Maida’s kitchen had always been spotless, and she couldn’t leave it this way.

This was for Maida, she told herself, plunging her hands into hot, sudsy water. Not for Alex.

She’d been angry at Alex’s implications about the housekeeper position, but she’d been just as guilty of thinking Maida’s job less important than her own. Now it was the job she needed and wanted to fill—if only she could erase the memory of Alex’s kiss.

Enough. She concentrated on rubbing each piece of the sterling flatware. She’d come here to make up for the past by helping Jason through this difficult time. That was all.

She heard the door swing behind her and turned. Jason stood staring at her. For a moment he didn’t move. Then he came toward her slowly. He stopped a few feet away.

“I came to say I’m sorry.”

“Are you, Jason?” Was it regret or good manners that brought him here? Maybe it didn’t really matter. At least he was talking. That was better than silence.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” A quiver of apprehension crossed his face. “Did you tell my dad?”

“No.” She pulled out a chair at the pine kitchen table. “I think Maida has some lemonade in the refrigerator. Want a glass?”

He nodded a little stiffly. “That would be nice.”

He was like his father, in manner as well as in looks, she thought as she poured two glasses of lemonade. Same dark hair and eyes, same well-defined bone structure, same strict courtesy.

He didn’t have the stiff upper lip to his father’s degree of perfection, though. He watched her apprehensively as she sat down across from him.

“I don’t want to tell him.” The words surprised her. Surely she should—but if she did, she’d never get beyond the barrier Jason seemed to have erected against the world. “I think you should, though. It’s pretty serious stuff. You could have gotten hurt.”

“I won’t do it again.” Dark eyes pleaded with her. “Promise you won’t say anything. I won’t do it again, honest.”

She studied his expression. Even at seven or eight, a lot of kids had figured out how to tell adults what they wanted to hear, instead of the truth. But Jason seemed genuinely dismayed at the result of his actions.

She took a deep breath. Let me make the right decision. Please.

“Okay, Jason. If you promise you won’t do it again, I promise I won’t tell.”

His relieved smile was the first one she’d seen from him. Like his father, she thought again. A smile that rare made you want to forgive anything, just to see it.

Jason didn’t seem to have inherited any qualities from his mother. Did he miss her and wonder why she’d disappeared? Maybe by now he’d made peace with his loss.

She watched as he gulped the lemonade. Guilt seemed to have made him thirsty. Finally he set the glass down, looking at it, not at her.

“Is Maida really going to come back?”

The question startled her. “Sure she is. Why do you think she wouldn’t?”

“I heard Daddy talking.” He fixed her with an intent gaze. “He told me she just needed to rest a while, but I heard him tell somebody on the phone that she was in the hospital. Is she going to stay there?”

Never lie to a child; that was one of her bedrock beliefs as a teacher. If something was going to hurt, going to be unpleasant, a child had the same right as an adult to prepare for it.

“Only for a little while,” she said carefully, remembering Alex’s determination to shield his son. “She had to go into the hospital to have her hip fixed.”

His face clouded. “I don’t want her to stay there. Can’t Dr. Brett just give her some medicine?”

The bereft tone touched her. “I know you don’t want her to be away, but medicine won’t fix what’s wrong. She had to have an operation, and they gave her a brand-new joint. Now she has to stay at the hospital and do exercises until she’s better.”

“Like my dad does for his leg?”

“Sort of like that.” She seemed to see Alex again in the workout clothes he’d worn that morning, and her mouth went dry. “Then when she’s well, she’ll be able to come back.”

His gaze met hers, and she read a challenge in it. “You didn’t come back. Not for a long time.”

It was like a blow to the heart. Jason was talking about when she’d been his nanny. Maybe, underneath the words, he was thinking about his mother, too.

She longed to put her hand over his where it lay on the table, but he was such a prickly child that she was afraid of making him withdraw. She prayed for the right words.

“I want you to listen, Jason, because I’m telling you the truth. Maida loves you. If she could have skipped the operation to stay with you, she would have. She’s going to come back, and in the meantime, you’ll be okay.”

“Are you going to stay?” His lips trembled. “Are you? I know I said I wanted you to go away, but I didn’t mean it. I want you to stay.”

Guilt gripped her throat in a vise so tight she couldn’t speak. She’d asked God to show her what to do. Was this His answer, in the voice of a troubled little boy?

She cleared her throat. “I’m not sure, Jason. But I’m going to talk to your daddy about it.”

“When?” Urgency filled his voice. “When?”

Somehow, whatever it took, she had to convince Alex to let her stay. She stood. “Right now.”

Alex had been trying to concentrate on work for the past half-hour, but all he could think about was how he’d manage the coming weeks. His business, his family, his home were too intertwined to separate.

He didn’t have any illusions that it would be easy to replace Maida. First of all, no one could really replace her. She was the closest thing to a mother Jason had.

Tension radiated down his spine. Jason had had enough losses in his young life. It was up to his father to protect him from any more.

It was also up to his father to provide for his future. If this deal with Dieter Industries didn’t go through, and soon, the Caine company would be on the verge of collapse. Their hand-crafted furniture would go the way of the lumber mills founded by his great-grandfather. Probably not even his private fortune could save it. Several hundred people would be out of work, thanks to Caine Industries’s failure.

He didn’t have the luxury of time. Dieter was sending someone over within weeks. Alex had to be ready, or they all lost.

He glanced up at the portrait of his father that hung over the library’s tile fireplace. Jonathan Caine stared sternly from the heavy gold frame, as if he mentally weighed and measured everyone he saw and found them wanting. He would no more understand the firm’s current crisis than he’d be able to admit that his mistakes had led to it.

His father’s stroke and death, coming when he heard the news of the crash, had seemed the knockout blow. But Alex had found out, once he took over, just how badly off the company was. And he’d realized there were still blows to come. He’d spent the past two years trying to solve the company’s problems, and he still didn’t know if he could succeed.

This was getting him nowhere. Alex walked to the floor-length window and looked down at the town—his town. He knew every inch of its steep narrow streets, folded into the cleft of the mountains. Sometimes he thought he knew every soul in town.

Caines had taken care of Bedford Creek since the first Caine, a railroad baron, had built his mansion on the hill in the decade after the Civil War. Bedford Creek had two economic bases: its scenic beauty and Caine Industries. If the corporation went under, how would the town survive? How would he?

The rap on the door was tentative. Then it came again, stronger this time. He crossed the room with impatient steps and opened the door.

“Paula.” That jolt to his solar plexus each time he saw her ought to be getting familiar by now. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t a good time.”

“This is important.”

What was one more disruption to his day? He wasn’t getting anything accomplished, anyway. He stepped back, gesturing her in.

“Is something wrong?”

She swung to face him. “Have you made a decision about hiring someone to replace my aunt?”

He motioned to a chair, but she shook her head, planting herself in the center of the oriental carpet and looking at him.

“Not yet,” he admitted. “Summer is tourist season in Bedford Creek. Everyone who wants a job is probably already working.”

He couldn’t deny the fact that Maida had been right about one thing. Paula could be the answer to his problems. But the uncomfortable ending to her previous stay, his own mixed feelings for her, made that impossible. He couldn’t seem to get past that.

“You have to have someone Jason can get along with.” She hesitated. “I couldn’t help thinking that he’s changed.”

He stiffened. “My son is fine.” Fine, he repeated silently.

“He seems to believe you’re disappointed in his school work.”

Her clear, candid gaze bored into him. “He misunderstood,” he said shortly. “Jason is very bright.” He glared at her, daring her to disagree.

“Yes, of course he is. But that doesn’t mean school is easy for him.”

“Paula, I don’t want to discuss my son with you. Jason is fine. Now, is there anything else?”

She looked at him for what felt like a long moment, and he couldn’t tell what was going on behind her usually expressive face. Then her eyes flickered.

“Just one thing. You should hire me to fill in until Maida is well again.”

Paula’s heart pounded in her ears. She hadn’t intended to blurt it out like that. She’d thought she’d lead up to it, present her arguments rationally. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem able to think in any sensible manner when she was around Alex.

That in itself was a good reason to run the other direction. “You didn’t come back, not for a long time.” Jason’s plaintive voice echoed in her mind. No, she couldn’t let him down. He needed someone, and she was the one he wanted right now.

Alex wasn’t answering, and that fact jacked up her tension level. He was probably trying to find a polite way to tell her he’d rather hire anyone else but her.

He walked to the other side of the long library table he used as a desk. It was littered with papers, and supported an elaborate computer system. Maybe he wanted to put some space between them, or maybe he was emphasizing the fact that this was his office, his house, his decision.

But there, beyond him, was the window seat where she’d curled up as a child. There, on the lowest shelf, were the storybooks she’d read. She had a place here, too.

He looked at her, a frown sending three vertical lines between his dark brows. “Are you sure this is something you want to do?”

She took a breath. At least he hadn’t started with “no.” Maybe he was willing to consider it. “Jason knows me, and Aunt Maida would feel better. I’m sure she’d call me five times a day from the hospital if the doctor would let her, just to be sure everything is all right.”

“That’s not what I asked.” His gaze probed beneath the surface. “How do you feel about it, Paula?”

How did she feel about it? Mixed emotions—that was probably the best way to describe it. But Alex didn’t need to know that. “I want the job. I think I can do it, although I don’t have much experience.” She remembered Aunt Maida’s concerns, and plunged on. “I know you have some important entertaining coming up in the next month. If you’re worried about that…”

What could she say? She couldn’t claim expertise she didn’t have. She’d never put on a fancy party in her life, and she didn’t think her usual brand of entertaining was what Alex was used to. He’d probably never ordered in pizza for guests.

“I’m not.” He glanced toward the portrait above the mantel, then away. “It’s important, of course, but I’ll hire a caterer for that, in any event. Maida’s job would be to oversee the staff.”

It sounded like a breeze compared to the elaborate cooking she’d been imagining. If someone else was doing the work, she ought to be able to manage a simple dinner party. “I think I could do that.”

His gaze assessed her, and she stiffened. Maybe she hadn’t lived all her life in a mansion, but she was smart enough to work her way through college. How hard could this be in comparison?

“Actually, that’s not my concern at the moment.” He looked impossibly remote, as if he viewed her through the wrong end of a telescope. “I want to know how you feel about working for me again, after what happened the last time you were here.”

It was like a blow to the stomach, rocking her back on her heels. She hadn’t dreamed he’d refer to it, had assumed he’d ignore what he probably saw as an unpleasant episode. Or that he’d forgotten it.

“That’s all in the past,” she said with as much firmness as she could manage. “You apologized. You said we’d pretend it never happened.” He’d done a very good job of that, as she knew only too well. The humiliation she’d felt when he’d said those words brought a stinging wave of color to her cheeks. “Why are you bringing it up now?”

“Because I don’t want it hanging between us,” he said. “I don’t want you to spend your time here worrying that I’ll make the same mistake again.”

A mistake, that’s what it was to him. A moment of weakness when the moonlight had tricked him into a brief, romantic gesture he later regretted. Well, he was never going to know it meant any more than that to her.

“Please, forget about it.” She forced herself to keep her voice steady and unconcerned. “I already have.”

She had, of course. For nearly two years she’d forgotten it entirely. Maybe she’d have been better off if she’d never remembered. But just a week ago, the memory had popped out from behind the locked door in her mind. The doctors couldn’t explain why. They’d said she could remember any time, or never.

She swallowed hard. What else might be hiding there? She still didn’t remember anything about those moments when the plane went down. Would she suddenly find herself reliving every painful second of the crash?

“Good.” He was briskly businesslike. “In that case, we can start with a clean slate between us. If you’re really willing to take on this position, it seems to be the best solution for everyone.”

She tried to smile. Position was a fancy word for it. She was about to become an employee in his house. And she’d have to do it without ever letting him know how she felt about him.

“The best solution for everyone,” she echoed. “We couldn’t ask for better than that.”

She had to find a way to keep her relationship with Alex businesslike—pleasant, but businesslike. She was just another employee to him, and as far as she was concerned, this was just another job. It was no different than if she’d been filing paperwork in someone’s office.

Well, maybe a little different. If she were filing papers, she wouldn’t be working for someone who tied her heart in knots.

Chapter Four

P aula put the carafe of coffee on a tray and glanced at the schedule Maida had taped to the kitchen cabinet, tension dancing along her nerves. Okay, so far she was on target, although it had probably taken her twice as long as it would have taken Maida. It was a good thing she’d decided to get up early this morning, Paula thought as she headed through the swinging door to the front of the house and up the stairs. Next on the agenda was to take the coffee to Alex’s room.

The second-floor hallway was as big as the entire living room in the apartment she shared with another teacher back home. She pushed the thought away. If she let herself make comparisons like that, she’d be too intimidated to do her job.

She tapped first, then opened the heavy door—more English oak. She remembered Maida showing her around the mansion on an earlier visit, explaining how one of Alex’s ancestors had imported the paneling and brought artisans over from Germany to create the stained glass. Maida had been as proud as if it belonged to her.

“Paula, good.” Alex strode into the bedroom from the bath, still buttoning his shirt. He stopped, looking at her. “Is something wrong?”

“No. Nothing.” Nothing except that I didn’t anticipate how this much intimacy would affect me. She forced down the flutter in her stomach and lifted the tray slightly. “Where would you like this?”

Instead of telling her, he took the tray, his hands brushing hers briefly. Her skin seemed sensitized to his touch, reacting with awareness in every cell. For an instant his gaze held hers. Was there more than business-as-usual in his eyes? Before she could be sure, he turned away and set the tray on the mahogany bureau. He busied himself pouring out a cup of coffee, his back to her.

She’d like to beat a retreat back to the kitchen, but Maida had said Alex would give his daily orders now. Orders. Paula swallowed a lump of resentment. She didn’t take orders well; she never had. But she couldn’t argue with Alex the way she would have with her father or brothers. In this situation, he was the boss, just as he had been when she was Jason’s nanny. Their kiss hadn’t changed that.

She pulled a pad and pencil from her jeans pocket. She’d taken the precaution of coming prepared, and the sooner this was done, the sooner she could escape. But Alex didn’t seem to be in any hurry.

“Do you have some instructions for the day?” she prompted. Somehow “instructions” sounded fractionally better than “orders.”

He glanced toward her, the lines around his dark eyes crinkling a little as he gestured with his coffee cup. “Let me get some of this down first. Then I’ll be able to think.”

She nodded, glad he couldn’t know how dry her mouth felt at the moment. This was just too awkward—standing in Alex’s private sanctum, watching him drink his morning coffee, noticing the way his dark hair tumbled over his forehead before he’d smoothed it back for the day. But she didn’t have a choice.

She forced herself to stand still, glancing around the room to keep from staring at him. The heavy forest-green drapes and equally heavy mahogany furniture darkened the room, and the deep burgundy tones of the oriental carpet didn’t help to brighten it. The room looked like a period set, in a museum. In fact, it probably was a period piece, but in a private home. She doubted that the furniture had been changed in several generations.

Had Alex had a colorful little boy’s bedroom once, like Jason’s? She smiled at the thought. She’d have to ask Maida. Somehow the idea of Alex with a cowboy or astronaut bedspread made him seem more like a regular person, instead of the blue blood who always stood slightly apart from the crowd.

Alex’s cup clattered onto the tray, and he swung toward her. “Now, about the day’s schedule—” His tone was businesslike, and her image of a little-boy Alex vanished.

“You’ll need to see to Jason and the meals, of course. I won’t be home for lunch, but I expect him to have a balanced meal. I’m sure Maida’s talked to you about all that, hasn’t she?”

“Yes.” She tried to match his briskness. This was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? Brisk and businesslike, so she wouldn’t imagine things she couldn’t have. “And I have her schedule of the daily work, and when the cleaners and gardeners come.” She poised the pencil over the pad. “I just need any special instructions.”

“Hand me that tie, please.”

For a split second she stared at the pad, confused, then realized what he meant. She took the striped tie from the dresser and handed it to him. He knotted it expertly, barely glancing in the mirror.

“Today I think it best if you concentrate on Jason. He’s bound to feel a little apprehensive about Maida’s absence. Try to keep him occupied.”

He held out his hand. This time she’d caught on, and she had the suit coat ready to put into it. Again their hands touched, and a faint tingle warmed her fingers. She snatched her hand away quickly.

“I may bring a business contact back to the house this afternoon,” he went on, “so please be sure there’s coffee brewed and some sort of savories ready.”

Her mind went blank. “Savories?”

“Cheese puffs, that sort of thing. Maida always serves something with coffee when people are here.” He picked up his briefcase.

Pretzels or cookies probably weren’t what he had in mind, she decided. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’ll need you to pick up some dry-cleaning—” He was already out the door, and she hurried to follow.

“You can do that when you go to visit Maida. And don’t forget to check on shirts to go to the laundry.”

She scribbled on the pad, trailing him down the stairs. Jason, dry-cleaning, laundry, coffee. What else? Oh, yes, the savories, whatever they were going to be. Maybe she’d been just a bit optimistic in thinking this would be a breeze.

Alex stopped at the bottom of the steps, turning suddenly. Their faces were on a level, only inches apart. Her breath caught.

“And tomorrow morning the coffee could be a little stronger.”

“Stronger, right.”

He turned away, heading for the dining room. She started to breathe again. So much for her idea that working for Alex could ever be cool and businesslike.

She’d really ended up with the worst of both worlds, she realized. As Alex’s housekeeper, she would be in as close contact with him as a member of the family. But Alex would treat her like a servant, because in his eyes that was all she was.

Alex pulled into the driveway, sending a swift glance toward his passenger. He couldn’t go so far as to say Conrad Klemmer’s visit had gone well. The representative of the Swiss firm had been stiff, even seeming a little uncomfortable. Perhaps finishing their discussions in Alex’s home would loosen him up a little.

It had better. Alex’s stomach tightened. With any luck, a pleasant meeting in the library, sipping coffee and eating Maida’s cheese straws—

But Maida wasn’t here. Paula, quite aside from the totally inappropriate feelings she’d roused in him, was an unknown quantity when it came to running the house. This morning, in his bedroom, she’d seemed off balance. Or maybe he was projecting his own feelings onto her. It had certainly unsettled him to have Paula bringing him his coffee, handing him his tie. He hadn’t anticipated the effect on him when she’d come in with his morning tray instead of Maida. He’d tried to act as if it were business as usual, but he probably hadn’t succeeded.

Klemmer leaned forward, scanning the mansion from its pillared portico to the octagonal cupola on top.

“You have a lovely home,” he commented in British-accented English. He glanced beyond the house, where the thickly wooded hillside swept sharply up to a saddleback ridge. “And a wonderful view.”

“Thank you.” Alex pulled to a stop and opened the door, surveying the landscape for any disorder and finding none. “We can finish our conversation in greater comfort here. My housekeeper should have some coffee ready for us.”

He hoped. He led the way along the walk skirting the bank of rhododendrons, still heavily laden with flowers, that screened the front of the house from view. This meeting would be successful when he had a commitment from Klemmer to bring a full team in to negotiate the deal. Until then, the whole thing could fizzle away into nothing, and his last, best hope of saving the company would be gone.

“I’ll get it!”

The shout from the front lawn startled him. They rounded the corner. Paula backpedaled toward them, a fielder’s mitt extended. A baseball soared over her head.

He reached for the ball, seeing disaster in the making. He was a second too late. Klemmer caught it.

Paula, wearing her usual jeans and a T-shirt, skidded to a stop inches from them. Beyond her, Jason stood holding a bat, looking horrified.

They ought to be embarrassed. This was hardly the impression he’d expected to make on Klemmer. And it certainly wasn’t the welcome he’d told Paula to prepare.

“I’m so sorry.” She burst out, her cheeks scarlet. “I didn’t mean… We were just practicing a little hitting.”

“So I see.” He bit off a retort. He couldn’t say the words that crowded his tongue. Maybe that was just as well.

Klemmer was already reaching out to shake hands. “What a pleasure to meet your lovely family. This must be Mrs. Caine. I am Conrad Klemmer, your husband’s business associate.”

He wouldn’t have thought it possible for Paula’s flush to deepen, but it did.

“No, I—”

“Paula is my housekeeper.” He kept his voice calm with an effort. “And this is my son, Jason.”

Fortunately Jason remembered his manners. He dropped the bat, came quickly to them and extended his hand.

“How do you do, sir.”

Klemmer darted a quick, speculative glance at Paula. Then he smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet both of you.”

That speculative look only added more fuel to Alex’s anger.

“Jason, will you show Mr. Klemmer to the library? I want to speak with Paula for a moment.”

Jason nodded. “This way.” He scampered up the steps and opened the door. “I’ll show you.”

The instant the door closed behind them, Alex turned to Paula, anger making his voice cold.

“Is this your idea of entertaining my business associate?”

“No, this is my idea of entertaining your son.” Her green eyes sparked with answering anger. “That was my priority for today, remember?”

There might be some justice in her comment, but he was too annoyed to admit it at the moment. “I distinctly remember telling you I might be bringing an important business associate back with me this afternoon. I didn’t expect you to greet him with a fly ball.”

He saw her stubborn jaw tighten. “The coffee is ready, and I found some of Maida’s cheese straws in the freezer. Why shouldn’t I play ball with Jason?”

“I don’t care what you play with Jason,” he ground out. “But the back lawn is the appropriate place for baseball, not the front. Jason should know that, even if you don’t.”

He knew how condescending it sounded the instant the words were out. But before he could say anything else, Paula had turned toward the door.

“I’ll bring your coffee to the library.” The words were coated with ice. “It will just be a moment.”

The library. Klemmer. Alex followed her quickly. The Swiss businessman had to be his major concern right now. He had to salvage what was left of this meeting, if he could.

Then he’d worry about straightening things out with Paula. He wasn’t sure which of those would be the more difficult.

Paula resisted the urge to clatter the baking sheet as she pulled cheese straws from the oven. That would be immature and childish. But it would feel so satisfying.

Using a spatula, she slid the straws onto a wire rack to cool for a moment before she took them in to the library. The cheese straws weren’t the only things that needed to cool off. If she didn’t get her temper under control, she wouldn’t dare face Alex and Mr. Klemmer.

Well, she had every right to be angry. Alex had spoken to her as if she were beneath his consideration. As if only a barbarian would play catch with a child on the front lawn.

A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. Alex should see her neighborhood. Kids played ball anywhere and everywhere, including in the street.

The smile faded. Things were different here. She’d known that from the start. She’d known, too, that it was her responsibility to fit into Alex’s world, and not the other way around.

Maybe, if she’d stopped to think about it, she’d have realized that the manicured front lawn wasn’t intended for a game of catch. But it had been the first thing she’d suggested all day that brought a spark of enthusiasm to Jason’s eyes, and she couldn’t ignore that.

She wouldn’t apologize for it, either. She arranged the coffee and cheese straws on a heavy silver tray, then picked the tray up, suppressing a nervous flutter in her stomach. She’d show Alex that she could be the perfect housekeeper, if that was what he wanted. But she wouldn’t apologize for playing with his son. Jason could use a bit more play in his life.

The militant mood carried her down the hallway and right up to the library door. Then she paused, again needing to push down the apprehension that danced along her nerves. If Alex was still angry…well, he’d just have to get over it. She was doing her job. She tapped lightly, then opened the door.

The two men sat in the leather armchairs on either side of the fireplace. Was it just her imagination, or did Alex look worried?

She dismissed the thought. Alex, with his air of always being in perfect control, didn’t worry about anything.

“Just put the tray here, please.” Alex nodded to the inlaid coffee table between them.

She set the tray down, sensing Alex’s quick assessment of it. Apparently satisfied, he nodded.

She poured the coffee into fragile china cups, careful not to let even a drop fall on the gleaming surface of the table. It wasn’t until both men were served and she took a step back that she realized she’d been holding her breath.