Читать книгу Falling for Her Boss - Bonnie Winn K. - Страница 12

Chapter Four

Tessa closed the book, finishing what must have been the dozenth one she’d read. In an instant another landed in her lap as a young boy handed her a Berenstain Bears book.

“Another?” she questioned, having already read two tales of the bears’ exploits.

“Uh-huh.” He nodded his head earnestly.

“Time to get to sleep,” Cindy said over her shoulder. “Miss Tessa is spoiling you to pieces.” There was fondness in her voice.

“I think word got out that I read more than one book each,” Tessa admitted.

“I think you’re right.” Cindy laughed, not sounding a bit tired despite the hours she’d spent organizing, cooking, playing, reading, supervising and getting children ready for bed.

Pitching in, Tessa hadn’t felt tired. Usually at the end of the day she was exhausted. The result of depression, she suspected. She’d done enough reading on the subject to recognize the symptoms. But today, tonight, reenergized, she felt she could easily go on for another eight hours. The young boy snuggled down after she read him another story.

The McNabs, the couple who lived at the house and worked full-time for the Children’s Home, had returned from a weekend away. Most of the volunteers worked daytime hours. A few could be counted on for occasional night shifts but the bulk of that time was covered by the paid staff.

Tessa pulled the blanket up over the boy’s arms. So sweet. He had been relentless during dinner, teasing the girls. Now, though, there was something about the peacefulness of a sleepy child... Swallowing, Tessa abruptly stood. Out of nowhere her breath caught, coming with difficulty. Everything was suddenly too much. Too close.

The boy’s hand tugged hers. “Are you coming back tomorrow?”

Tessa tried to sound normal, not as though she felt pinched from the inside out. “I’m not sure.”

Cindy apparently recognized her discomfort. “We can finish up. The McNabs have everything under control.”

“Good.” Tessa nodded. “Yes.”

Cindy took her elbow, guiding her to the stairs. “It’s been a long day.”

Tessa swallowed, hating that the hurt was attacking in waves. She’d conquered it for hours. It had even seemed to go away. But now every poignant moment was an assault.

Blindly, she navigated the stairs. Cindy was close behind, grabbing their purses from the hall tree. She didn’t really remember how, but she was in the car, Cindy driving.

“Would you like to stay over?” Cindy was asking. “Tomorrow we could have a nice breakfast before church.”

Tessa shook her head, knowing instinctively that she needed to be alone.

“Okay, well, I’ll take you home. But if you change your mind I can be over in a tick. It’s no trouble.”

Sanity returned. “You’ve been gone from your family all day. You really don’t have to babysit me.”

Cindy took her gaze from the road for a moment, staring. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that you don’t have to be alone. We’re here for you.”

“I know. And it’s truly appreciated. But I need to be able to handle an evening alone.”

“I shouldn’t have thrown you into the middle of the kids,” Cindy fretted.

“I volunteered,” Tessa reminded her.

“Yes, but I know it’s a tender subject. I wasn’t thinking.”

Seemed they were each determined to take the blame.

Tessa dug deep and found a tiny smile. “At least we’re not blaming each other.”

Cindy saw the smile and laughed. “I have days when I feel that I’ve jumped in the deep end before I learned to wade in the shallows.” She turned, heading toward Morgan’s home, which was close. “Will you promise me something?”

Tessa took a deep breath, still feeling the twitchy beat of her heart. “Depends on what it is.”

“If you’re lonely or just bored, call me. If you don’t feel like coming over or having company, we can talk on the phone.”

“I can’t promise to do it every time,” Tessa replied truthfully. Most days she felt she used up all her words during working hours and had few left for anything else. It was why her cupboards were relatively bare, her cottage virtually unchanged since she moved in. Talking required an energy that she couldn’t seem to sustain. Her parents had commented on her sparse communications. Tonight’s pain was subsiding, nearly extinguished. Suddenly exhausted, she rubbed her eyes. It seemed as if years had passed since her divorce.

“Okay,” Cindy conceded. “I hope you’ll feel like going to church tomorrow.”

“I’ll see.”

Sensing Tessa’s reluctance, Cindy was silent as she drove the short remaining distance.

Morgan’s broad driveway was empty, all the cars enclosed in the garage, so it was difficult to determine just who was home. But it didn’t matter. After saying goodbye to Cindy, all Tessa wanted to do was disappear into her cottage. Skirting the front of the house, she took the shortcut that led her past the rose arbor.

“You’re home early for a Saturday night,” Morgan spoke from the darkness.

Startled, she jumped.

“Sorry. Thought you saw me.”

“No, I wasn’t looking out into the yard.” Tessa collected herself, gazing into the night, finally seeing that he sat on a curved stone bench. What is he doing out in the dark alone? Should she ask? Undecided, she hesitated.

“The smell of the roses,” he explained, apparently sensing her curiosity. Morgan stood, moving into a patch of moonlight. “It’s more distinct at night when it’s still. The heat of the sun brings out the aroma and the cooler air seems to capture it.”

It was a romantic notion, one she hadn’t expected of him. “Oh.”

“Did you have a good time?”

“A good time?” she echoed. “It wasn’t exactly that kind of day. I was having tea with Cindy when she got called to the Children’s Home. Wound up working there this afternoon...well, and this evening.”

“What did you do there?” he questioned.

“Cooked, read stories. Stuff with the kids.”

“Oh.” He looked perplexed.

She wondered why. “Is that so amazing?”

“You don’t have kids.”

Tessa stiffened. “No, I don’t.”

He held up one hand. “It wasn’t an accusation. Just seems like an unlikely way to spend a Saturday.”

“Don’t you want to spend Saturdays with Poppy?”

“I do as often as I can. Not as often as I want.”

The day’s ventures emboldened her. “Why not?”

“My job doesn’t end at five o’clock on Friday. Pipelines leak, trucks break down. You know that.”

Tessa still didn’t understand why he insisted on such hands-on management. “Surely you can hire someone to help with your workload.”

“Do you know how many small enterprises like mine are gobbled up every year? I have to make sure that doesn’t happen to Harper. If I delegate away all the problem solving, I might not know if we’re facing a major obstacle.”

“Is it really that likely?” she questioned.

“Adair Petroleum built a large regional office here several years ago to handle their pipeline and trucking operations. The recession hit. Now one of the majors owns it. And most of the local people who worked at Adair found themselves out of jobs. I took on the ones I could, but I didn’t have enough jobs to go around. If something happened to Harper, it would be devastating to this town. I won’t let that happen on my watch.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. Rosewood thrives because we, the community, made a conscious decision to keep it alive, to keep out big business and superstores that shut down local mom-and-pop operations. The bed-and-breakfast has been in the same family for generations, the same for the café, bakery, drugstore, hardware... Well, you get the idea. This community takes care of its own. And I’m part of that—I have to be, with so many employees dependent on me. It’s not easy, but if it’s important it’s worth the effort.”

All admirable, Tessa realized. Still... “What about Poppy?”

He frowned. “What about her?”

“She seems a little lonely.”

“Lonely?” he scoffed. “She has me, Dorothy, Alvin, my parents when they visit.”

“It seems she’s only around adults,” Tessa said carefully, hoping not to anger him. “I mean she doesn’t have playdates, the kind of thing other kids do.”

“I didn’t have playdates when I was growing up. My parents were growing the business. I turned out reasonably okay.”

Tessa sensed she wasn’t gaining any ground and was about to be told to mind her own business. “True.” She hesitated, remembering Dorothy’s comment about Morgan no longer attending church. “Does Poppy attend Sunday school?”

“No. Why?”

“Just thinking. There are other kids to interact with. They sing, hear stories, sometimes make an art project.” Wincing, she gave in to another impulse. “I go every Sunday. She could come along with me.”

“I don’t know...”

Not sure of his religious convictions, she tried to be subtle. “Like I said, it’s mostly a social thing. I think Poppy would really like it. I see Cindy and Flynn there.”

He seemed to waver. “What about the church session?”

“She could go to junior church,” Tessa replied. “Lots of singing. Unless you have plans to do something with Poppy tomorrow.”

“No. I have to meet with a pipeline supervisor, Ronnie Broussard. He’s a key man in the field—East Texas. He’s tied up all the time putting out figurative fires. We need this meeting.”

She waited.

“I suppose it would be all right,” he conceded, “for her to go with you tomorrow.”

She wondered if the roses had softened him.

“But no preaching.”

Or not.

“I don’t want her to grow up with false promises,” he continued, “and to believe everything’s going to be all golden.”

Tessa frowned, hating to think the child would be denied the joy of hope. “No?”

“Life has a way of squashing things. It’s ridiculous to believe it can all be changed or fixed.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” she replied quietly. “It’s faith.”

“It’s pointless,” he replied, bitterness infusing the words.

“You must have loved her a great deal.”

Silence was sudden and thick.

“I don’t need your amateur psychology or your meddling.” He turned, his boots a distinctive thud on the stone walkway.

Morgan seemed to take the rose-scented air with him when he left. Too much emotion had been staked out on display today. She wasn’t sure why she’d felt the need to prod him about Poppy, to question him about his late wife.

Following the puddles of moonlight, she made her way to the cottage. But, despite her best intentions, she turned around, watching as Morgan disappeared in the night.

* * *

It was plain to see Poppy was excited to wear her best dress and shoes by the way she eagerly smoothed the skirt. Her dress was blue, almost an exact match to her eyes, broken up with large white polka dots. Along with white tights and glossy white shoes, she was a picture. Her small fingers curled in Tessa’s, sending a responding curl of warmth to her stomach. Such innocent trust in the gesture. If this little girl was hers, Tessa knew she would take walks with her just to capture her hand and hold it close.

“Are other kids gonna be there?” Poppy questioned again.

Tessa smiled, not minding the repetition. “Yes. Lots. You’ll have a good time.”

“Why didn’t Daddy want to come?”

“He’s busy with a special meeting.”

“He always has work,” Poppy replied.

Tessa squeezed the small hand. “But he misses you when he does,” she improvised. Surely that was the case. “You’re way more fun than work.”

Poppy screwed her face into a puzzled frown. “You sure?”

“Very.” Tessa led her small charge into the Sunday school building.

Rosewood Community Church had been constructed in the late 1800s. Weathering storms and even a fire, the faithful congregation kept the building well maintained. True to the Victorian age in which it was built, the lines of the church were classic. And, in Tessa’s opinion, classy. She loved that the floors were constructed of local wood, original to the building. Designated on the historical register, the church conveyed its beautiful spirit visually, as well.

The fire that had erupted several years earlier hadn’t stopped worship. Instead, they pulled together to rebuild. Members of other churches volunteered as well, offering materials, labor and donations. It was a church of the community and it had taken the whole community to repair the damage. But now the scars were scarce. Cindy told her they left one charred piece of timber, now enclosed in a case, to remind them of how fortunate they’d been not to lose the entire structure.

Once at her class, it didn’t take long for Poppy to meet her Sunday school teacher, then greet the other children.

Tessa unobtrusively lingered in the hallway to make certain Poppy would be okay. But the child was all smiles, so Tessa finally made her way to her own class.

Her thoughts remained with Poppy. After Sunday school ended, she darted over to check on junior church, but again, Poppy was fine. Still, Tessa fidgeted during the church service. Usually she appreciated the beauty of the stained-glass windows, the aged wood, the flowers that adorned the altar. It was a place for her thoughts to settle, for her mind to seek solace. But today she glanced at her watch more than her Bible. And the moment the congregation dispersed, she practically ran to the chapel to collect Poppy.

Relieved to see that she was still looking happy, Tessa released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “So, you had a good time?”

“Uh-huh.” Poppy waved a booklet. “And I have stories.”

“That’s great. If it’s okay with your father, we can read them later.”

“Can we come back again?”

“If your father agrees.” All Tessa had previously gleaned was that Morgan wasn’t a churchgoer. After last evening’s conversation, it was evident why. She’d known others who had gone through crises of faith because of a loss. She considered herself fortunate to have held on tightly to her own despite Karl, despite the disappointment of knowing she would never bear children.

“Tomorrow?”

Tessa smiled. “Well, not tomorrow. It’s called Sunday school because it meets on Sunday.”

“But the party’s on Saturday!” Poppy wailed.

Tessa noticed a sheet of bright orange paper stapled to the booklet. “Let’s check out what your teacher sent.”

Poppy was right. They were having a class skating party. She drew her eyebrows together. What would Morgan think of this? She had no idea. Which meant her best option was to distract Poppy so that she wouldn’t worry over it right now. “I bet Dorothy will have lunch ready when we get home.”

Shaking her head, Poppy lifted her gaze. “Sunday lunch is sandwiches. Daddy says Dorothy should have a day off.”

Tessa had scrupulously kept to her own cottage on the weekends except when they were working on Saturdays, having asked Morgan to phone her if she was needed. But he hadn’t called, so she didn’t know how the house worked on Sundays. “That’s nice. I love sandwiches. What about you?”

The small head lifted up, then down. “Uh-huh. Dorothy makes dessert on Saturday so we have good dessert for Sunday, too.”

“Do you help?”

“Uh-huh,” Poppy repeated.

Driving back to Morgan’s house, Tessa wondered when he would return. She would have to speak with him about Saturday’s party. Tessa might have successfully distracted the little girl for the time being, but it wasn’t likely that Poppy would forget about the party entirely.

Sure enough, as soon as Poppy spotted Dorothy, she rushed to show her the papers she’d brought home. Dorothy met Tessa’s gaze. She could see her own question in the other woman’s eyes.

“Can I have chips?” Poppy was asking Dorothy.

“Yes. But before lunch, let’s change out of your good dress.”

Poppy swirled, the full skirt responding to the pirouette, swishing prettily. “Okay. Can I wear my purple shirt?”

Dorothy concurred as they headed up the back stairs.

Tessa released her breath. She knew she was overly invested in the outcome of whether Poppy would be allowed to attend the party. She wondered how wise it had been to have pushed for Poppy to attend church.

Morgan was nowhere in sight. But she could imagine his expression when he learned about Saturday’s party. Last night he’d been downright grim at the prospect of Poppy attending church. She hated to imagine his reaction when he heard about a second outing.