Читать книгу Finding Our Forever - Brenda Novak - Страница 9

Chapter Two

“So...do you like the woman you’ll be working for?”

Cora was packing up the kitchen of her condo in Burbank with Lilly when Lilly asked this question. For a second, Cora froze, fearing her adoptive mother had figured out the reason she was moving to Silver Springs. But when Lilly kept wrapping glasses in newspaper and putting them into the box she was filling, it became apparent she was merely making conversation. She didn’t know—not yet, thank goodness.

“I do.” She forced a smile despite the discomfort her deception caused. “She seems really nice.” Although Cora had been home for a week, getting ready for her big move, she hadn’t been able to quit thinking about Aiyana. She’d spent nearly every extra minute on the internet, doing searches on all of the teachers and many of the students who’d graduated from New Horizons—whatever names she could cull from their website, including a graduate who had turned into a professional football player, one who’d just recently been accused of killing the couple who adopted him when he came to the ranch at fifteen and Elijah Turner, who’d hired her. Only one article had come up on him, but it told a lot. When he was ten years old, he’d been kept in a cage like some animal in the basement of his parents’ house, and starved until he was only sixty pounds.

Imagining what he’d been through turned Cora’s stomach. What kind of people could do that to one of their own children? And where were those people now? Did he know?

Considering what he’d been through, it was no wonder the man was so guarded, so aloof—and so devoted to Aiyana and New Horizons.

“I can’t believe you’ll be staying right there on the property,” Lilly said.

“The school is about ten miles outside of town, so it’ll save me from the daily drive.”

“What drive? Ten miles is nothing,” Lilly scoffed. “The people in Silver Springs must have no idea how long it takes to go two blocks in LA when the traffic is bad.”

“Or they do know, and that’s why they live there.” Cora held up her blender. She made a lot of smoothies and “green” drinks, but her machine was nearly worn-out. Was it worth taking with her—or was it time to get a new one?

Newspaper crinkled as Lilly continued to wrap. “Traffic or no, I could never leave the city.”

Brad’s office was only a few blocks from their house. He’d been so successful managing other people’s money that he could set his own hours. And Lilly did charity work, mostly on nights and weekends. “You two are in the kind of situation that makes it easy to stay. Traffic isn’t a huge part of the equation for you.”

“Our lives haven’t always been so perfect,” she said.

Reluctantly, Cora put her blender in the pile for Goodwill. “No. You’ve worked hard for what you have,” she agreed and meant it.

Her mother stopped packing long enough to squeeze her shoulder. “You’ll build something, too, honey.”

“I hope so.” Right now it felt as if Ashton, her brother, was going to be the one to make them proud. Although Lilly and Brad hadn’t been too pleased when he left law school to become a movie producer, he already had an indie film out that’d garnered several awards, so they were less critical of his decision than they once were. “From this vantage point, it looks like I have a long way to go.”

“It all comes with time.”

Cora checked the clock on the wall. Jill, an assistant to a film editor at Universal, would be getting off work any minute. Cora had been hoping to be done by then, so they could meet some other friends for drinks, but there was a lot yet to pack. “Is Ashton going to be able to make it to my goodbye dinner on Sunday?”

“I’m sure he will. Your brother adores you.”

“Slightly less than he adores all of the women he’s dating,” she grumbled.

“That’s not true!”

It wasn’t entirely true, but Cora had been feeling a little neglected by her brother since he’d turned into such a big shot and become so busy.

The packing tape screeched as her mother closed and sealed the box she’d filled. “Does Aiyana Turner offer discounted housing to all the teachers at the ranch?”

The scent of the marker Lilly used to label the box “Kitchen—Fragile” rose to Cora’s nostrils. “She can’t. There’s not enough for everyone—just a handful of small cottages on the far side of the property, away from the school and the boys’ dorms.”

“So who looks after the boys at night?”

“Each floor has a live-in monitor they call a ‘big brother’ who makes sure the boys go to bed at lights-out, get up for school, study during study time and clean their rooms.”

“Are they teachers, too?”

“No. Most work in town during the day. I was told that some even drive to Santa Barbara. It’s merely a way to acquire free lodging, kind of like managing an apartment building.”

“How does—what’s her name, Aiyana Turner?—decide who gets the other housing?”

“Every teacher has the option to add their name to the waiting list and move in if one becomes available. I just happened to hire on at the right time. The teacher who quit left earlier than planned, and my unit wasn’t spoken for—probably because it’s so small. It wouldn’t be big enough for anyone with kids.”

“So where do the other teachers live? In town?”

“I’m assuming they do. Although I suppose some might live in Santa Barbara. It’s only about twenty minutes away, not a long commute by our standards.”

The packing tape screamed again as her mother built a new box. “But will there be enough of a social life for you in Silver Springs? I mean...if you’re living on campus, will you ever get out? How will you meet people?”

“I’ll meet the other teachers.”

“Who will most likely be older or married.”

“I really won’t know until I get there.”

Lilly straightened and rested her hands on her hips. “There’s more to life than work, honey. A year might not sound long right now, but, trust me, it’ll seem long if you have no one to do anything with that whole time.”

“I can always drive home, visit you guys, Jill, my other friends.”

“I hope you come home often. But...what about the man who hired you? Maybe you can get something going with him. Jill told me you said he was hot.”

Thank you, Jill. “He is hot, but...”

“What does he look like?”

Cora pictured the dark-headed, rather intimidating man who’d shown her around the ranch. He didn’t say too much, certainly didn’t waste words. But those blue eyes were laser-sharp. They didn’t miss a thing. Truth be told, he made her uncomfortable. “Sort of like...a pirate.”

Her mother opened another cupboard and started packing the plates. “A pirate? That’s a positive association?”

“In this case it is.” Mostly... When it came to his physical appearance, anyway.

“How tall is he?”

Cora put her salsa maker, which she’d barely used, in one of the boxes she planned to take with her. If she was going to live in the country, she was going to attend a farmer’s market occasionally and make homemade salsa. “Really tall. And built.”

“He sounds perfect.”

“Not perfect exactly.” That was what she found most compelling about him—that he was a little rough around the edges. “He’s got a fairly big scar on his face.” She indicated the line of her jaw. “Right here.”

“What’s that from?”

“I didn’t ask.” And now that she’d read the article chronicling some of the abuse he’d suffered, she wouldn’t. “As far as I know, he’s already married.”

“Did you see a ring?”

“I didn’t look,” she said, but that was a lie. She had looked—and seen no ring. She’d been curious about Elijah from the first moment they met. But she’d also been apprehensive about the fact that she’d had an ulterior motive for applying at New Horizons, had known he probably wouldn’t appreciate that she wasn’t being fully transparent.

Her mother grinned at her. “You should have.”

“Matt and I barely broke up, Mom. I’m not ready to start dating again, especially in a place where I don’t plan to stay.” Besides, she wasn’t sure she’d be capable of taking on a man as complex as Elijah. There was no telling what kind of scars his upbringing had created, and she wasn’t referring to the one on his face, although that could easily be part of the legacy his parents had left him.

“So you’re only staying there a year?” her mother said.

“That’s right.”

“I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear it’s temporary.” Lilly bent to give her a hug. “I love you, you know.”

Cora did know. And she was grateful. She could easily have gone to a family who weren’t so kind and accepting—a family like Elijah had known. “I love you, too,” she said and tried to ignore how selfish she felt for doing what she was doing in spite of the fact it would hurt Lilly if—or when—she found out.

* * *

Elijah Turner was brushing down his horse when Aiyana found him. At the sound of her footsteps, he didn’t need to turn in order to see who it was. If he didn’t come for dinner when she invited him, she tracked him down. She always acted as if she had some official reason, some business question to ask him, but he knew she was simply assuring herself that he was okay. Whenever he complained that he was too old for that kind of coddling, she’d say it didn’t matter, that he’d always be her boy.

“How was your ride?” she asked.

He lifted Atsila’s foot and used a pick to gently clean his horse’s front left hoof. “Relaxing.”

“Cora Kelly arrives tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“Is the cottage ready?”

He moved on to the other front hoof. “Of course.”

“Are you ever going to explain that decision to me?”

“What decision?” he said, but he knew what she was going to say before she explained.

“To hire Cora Kelly. You knew, as well as I did, that Gary Seton, from right here in Silver Springs, was waiting for that job to open up.”

“I interviewed Gary, too—gave him a chance.”

“And...”

“I thought Ms. Kelly was better suited for the position.”

“She’s pretty.”

“That had nothing to do with it.”

“Let’s say that’s true—you’re not worried that she might be a distraction to the boys?”

“You’re saying I should’ve discriminated against her because she’s attractive?”

She gave his shoulder a little shove. “Stop it.”

“You were talking about her looks!”

“Because I wanted to see if you agreed with me.”

“That she’s pretty? I’d have to be blind not to see that.”

“So...do I surmise a bit of interest on your part?”

“None. I’m not the marrying type. You should know that by now.”

“I’d like grandkids at some point.”

“You have plenty of other sons to give you grandkids.”

She sighed as if he was being purposely stubborn. “Fine. Obviously, you don’t like talking about this subject.”

He didn’t argue. There were moments he wondered if he truly wanted to be alone for the rest of his life. But he also saw nothing to be gained from allowing his happiness to hang on the love or will of another person.

“You missed dinner tonight,” his mother said.

“You said to come by if I was hungry.”

“You should’ve been hungry. It’s nearly eight.”

“We’ve talked about this before,” he responded. “I’m too old for you to worry about.”

“You’ll never be too old for me to worry about. And you know why? It’s called caring.”

His problem was that he had the tendency to care too much, to be too intense. “I’m fine.” He started on Atsila’s fourth and final hoof. “I’ll grab a bite while I’m in town tonight.”

She leaned against the fence post. “Whoa, don’t tell me you’re leaving the ranch for a social outing. You don’t do that very often.”

He gave her a look that let her know he didn’t appreciate the sarcasm.

Unperturbed, she smiled. “Your dark looks don’t frighten me the way they do everyone else.”

“They should.”

“Why? I know you love me, even if you rarely say it.”

“What good are words?” His parents used to claim they loved him, but they only loved themselves and the twisted joy they received from tormenting him. “Words are empty, meaningless.”

“Hopefully, someday, you’ll regain your trust.”

He winked at her. “Don’t hold your breath. But... I am very grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I hope you know that.”

“Stop!” She started to walk away.

“What?” he called after her.

“That wasn’t a leading statement. I’m not looking for your gratitude.”

She wasn’t comfortable with it, either. “You want me to fall in love.”

“I want you to be able to fall in love. I want to see you lose your heart—and not be afraid to let it go. Then I can rest easy, knowing you’re completely fulfilled.”

“You never married,” he pointed out, but she offered the usual lame excuse.

“Because I’m married to this place.”

Knowing that was all he’d ever get out of her on the subject, he studied her retreating figure. “Yeah, well, so am I.”