Читать книгу A Father's Love - Cheryl Wolverton - Страница 8

“Come here, che’rie. Just give me the baby powder and we’ll be okay.”

Max Stevens, covered from head to toe in white dust, was down on all fours near the edge of the queen-size bed, holding out his hand coaxingly as he peppered his speech with Cajun words, trying to persuade the diaper clad little girl to hand over the dusting powder.

Kaitland stood at the door and held back her laugh.

“No! No! No! No! No!” The toddler accentuated each no with a bounce of her knees and a squeeze of the powder container, which puffed out its fine white sheen all over the forest green carpet.

Max winced, shook his dark glossy hair in exasperation then promptly sneezed when he inhaled the dusty powder that floated in the air. Only a few hours had passed since he’d discovered the children, yet somehow, it felt longer. Much longer, Max reflected.

“Come on, che’rie. Just give it to Uncle Max and let me change your diaper.”

“No!” the little girl squealed, then threw the container at him and turned, dancing away on her toes toward the bed.

“Thank you,” he said with the desperation of one totally besieged, but saw relief in sight when the little girl started to crawl up on the bed. He placed his hand on the mauve and green comforter to push himself up, but the other twin, who had been trying to pull off his shirt, suddenly decided it was playtime.

“Horsey!” the young boy whooped. With a lunge, he shot forward, landing in the middle of Max’s back.

“Oooaf!”

Max went down.

Kaitland burst into peels of laughter. “Felled by your own son, Max. I’m surprised. And you, who used to play football.”

Max’s head jerked around at the familiar voice and his eyes widened incredulously. “Katie?” he gasped.

“That’s right, Max. At least you remember my name…or should I say the name you’ve always called me.”

She strode into the room, gliding into it as if she had every right to be there. Ignoring him, she crossed to where the little girl was lying on the bed, one toe in her mouth, the other foot waving around as she waited for a diaper. Grabbing a diaper bag, Kaitland pulled out the wipes and then quickly, efficiently cleaned and diapered the child.

Max couldn’t get over how good Katie looked as he knelt there in the middle of the powder-caked floor.

It had been five years. She hadn’t aged, just gotten more graceful. Her honey blond hair was now straight instead of permed, but it was more beautiful, swaying to and fro with every step she took. She’d filled out a little, was more rounded, softer-looking, not as coltish as he remembered. Long, graceful hands worked quickly and expertly to diaper and dress the girl in a pink romper that was in the bag she’d pulled up onto the bed.

Her high cheekbones were slightly flushed with color and her lips were puckered as she made cooing noises to Maddie. Maddie laughed and kicked both feet in approval to whatever Kaitland had said.

And those eyes.

Her green eyes still sparkled like jewels when she laughed.

Five years and he’d thought never to see her in his house again…His eyes widened. “What are you doing here?” he blurted out, realizing he was seeing her in his house and had no idea why.

Kaitland glanced over her shoulder, a sardonic brow lifted. “I’m changing a diaper, Max. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a diaper changed.”

Chagrined by her answer, Max opened his mouth to tell her he knew exactly what she was doing and that was not what he’d meant, but Kaitland continued, “The girl doesn’t look much like you, but now the boy…My, Max, he could be your twin, but you already have one of those, don’t you?” Her light tone was in contrast to her sudden intense stare at the child.

“They’re not mine.”

“Oh, really?” Kaitland asked, lifting Maddie in her arms. “And what is this one’s name?” she asked, bouncing the little girl on her hip.

“Madeline Renée.”

“And the boy?”

“Maxwell Robert,” he replied, suddenly realizing how Kaitland would take the fact that the boy’s first name was the same as his own.

“And he’s not yours,” she said so falsely that Max flushed. She was always able to goad his temper.

“No. They are not!” He enunciated each word.

“I see, little Max,” she said, winking at the boy.

“I’ve been calling him Bobby.”

“Bobby?” Kaitland asked before giving Maddie a peck and letting her down on the floor.

“Well, it would seem rather odd to call him Max, now, wouldn’t it?” Max demanded as she crossed the room.

“I don’t know,” Kaitland mused aloud, pausing to tap her chin as if in deep thought. Then, for the first time, she pierced him with those deep green eyes. “A lot of people name their firstborn son after themselves.”

“He’s not my firstborn son!”

“You have another?” she asked, all innocence.

“I don’t have any son,” he growled, then took a deep breath. “Look. It’s hard to explain. I woke up to what I thought was a cat brawl and found these two at the bottom of the balcony steps near the kitchen.”

“I see.”

“No. You don’t see. I have no idea who they belong to. Though it’s probably someone who reads those stupid rag magazines and believes I’m out to populate half of Louisiana.”

“You sure it’s not the other half that believes you’re Mr. Perfect?”

He frowned at her words.

“I’m sorry, it was only a guess.”

“I don’t know,” he finally said, brushing off his pants. “It doesn’t really matter. All I can figure out is some woman dropped off her kids hoping I’d give them a better life. For all I know, Max and Maddie aren’t their real names.”

Both children turned at those words. Kaitland laughed. “I’d say that’s their correct names, all right Now, as to their parentage—”

“They’re not mine!” he said so forcefully that Kaitland’s eyes widened.

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“You’ve already said it twice.”

“No. I said the boy looks like you.” She smiled. “But if the shoe fits—”

“Things aren’t always as they look,” he muttered.

Kaitland suddenly lost her smile and even paled slightly. “Don’t I know that,” she murmured, the air in the room suddenly charged with memories, a time when things hadn’t been like what they’d looked.

Max remembered that time with clarity, and remembered the irrefutable proof that he’d produced to show her he knew she had been lying to him. Pain that he thought long dead and buried resurfaced, grabbing his heart and giving it an unexpected squeeze. Longing swept through him. If it could only have been different. If you hadn’t lied to me, had even just trusted me a little. But that was in the past, the best place for it to remain. These children were the present. And Katie’s presence in his house.

Kaitland walked over to the door where he only now realized Sarah stood. “Someone needs to sweep up here, Sarah,” Kaitland said. “Will you see to it?”

“Of course,” his housekeeper replied, and with an infinitesimal nod turned crisply on her heel and strode off down the hall.

“Thank you,” Kaitland called out and then returned her attention to the room as she surveyed it through narrowed eyes.

“Wait a minute,” Max protested as Kaitland looked around as if the room were a bug under a microscope. “You can’t go ordering my servants around.”

Max stepped away from the bed, attempting to disengage Bobby from where the child hung on to his pant legs. Looking down, he realized the child had drooled all over his trousers. “Aw, no,” he moaned. “These are two-hundred-dollar slacks.”

Grimacing, he pulled the child away and then, not knowing what to do, he lifted the boy into his arms.

“Have they had lunch?” Kaitland asked as she went around the room, picking up objects on lower tables and moving them to higher places and rearranging other things.

Max stared in disbelief, unable to figure out just what she thought she was doing. The baby suddenly grabbed Max’s paisley tie and jerked. He tried to disengage the choke hold Bobby had on him. Looking distracted, he glanced away from the deceivingly cherubic bundle in his arms. “What?” he asked, already forgetting what Kaitland had said.

“Lunch, Max? Have you fed the children yet?” Kaitland looked downright exasperated with him. “I don’t remember you having a memory or hearing problem. Has that changed lately?”

Max growled low in his throat, managed to disengage the child’s unnaturally strong grip then snapped rather curtly, “No, Katie. That hasn’t changed. I’m a little overwhelmed at the moment. I’ve never been around kids before, and never two at once…Watch out!”

He went running across the room to where Maddie had just grabbed a tablecloth and pulled. Potpourri spilled everywhere. “No, no, Maddie, che’rie,” he said. “Don’t put that in your mouth.”

Kaitland strolled over and picked up the cute little girl, easily removing the dried rose petals from the child’s mouth. “This room is definitely not meant for children. Where are you keeping them?”

“Um…” He looked around the room, then shrugged sheepishly.

“Oh, Max. They can’t stay in here. They need baby beds, and there are no child protectors in the plugs—”

“Child protectors?” He looked thoroughly confused.

“And those lamps won’t last an hour. Kids tend to gravitate toward the forbidden. You need to get your staff up here and have them baby-proof this room right now. Get rid of all these tablecloths that hang down and replace them with shorter ones. The kids look to be about fifteen months, is that right?” Kaitland stared at him expectantly.

“I don’t know.” He felt like a helpless green recruit in an army full of generals—or one general in particular, he thought sourly, eyeing Kaitland with a suddenly wary eye.

She shot him a reproachful look, and he had the vague thought that she was thoroughly enjoying his discomfiture. This was the first time cool, debonair Max had ever been less than the perfect sophisticate in front of her.

“Well, that’s about the right age,” she continued. “They can walk, but still use things to pull themselves up.”

Bobby began to fuss and Max looked panicked.

“Bounce him gently on your hip, like this,” Kaitland instructed.

Max watched Katie bounce Maddie, then imitated her.

Bobby immediately threw up. “Ugh!” Max hollered and thrust the child out at arm’s length.

“What did you feed them for lunch?” Kaitland demanded, instantly setting down Maddie and gathering Bobby to her.

Max looked at the brown stain with revulsion. “Cookies.”

“And?” she asked when he didn’t say anything else.

“And milk.” What did she want? A whole list down to the bug Maddie had tried to eat from the floor the last time she’d gotten out of the chair that he’d had to sit her in every two minutes.

“That’s all?” Kaitland’s eyes widened.

“They seemed to like it,” he added defensively, realizing belatedly that his mother had never allowed him cookies for any meal when he had been a child…or, come to think of it, as an adult, before she’d died.

“They’ll both have tummyaches,” she warned.

As if out of sympathy with her brother, Maddie suddenly tossed her own cookies, all over the green carpet. Kaitland gathered her up in her free arm. “There there, little one,” she comforted as the baby began to whimper.

“Well, this room is definitely out for a while. Find me a nearly empty room for these two…maybe your library, and bring some blankets. It’s nap time. I need to put them down and then we’ll talk.”

“Talk? About what?”

“Why, their schedule. What else?”

“Their schedule? You make them sound like army recruits.”

“You really don’t know anything about babies, do you?”

Max ran a weary hand through his hair. “You know I don’t. But I’ve sent for someone from the agency. I was assured they’d have someone out here by this afternoon.”

Max’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “Which brings me back to the original question I was going to ask you before you sidetracked me. What are you doing here?”

“Surprise,” Kaitland said brightly and headed toward the door.

“Surprise? What does that mean?” he asked, grabbing the diaper bags and starting after her.

“It means, Max, that I’m the new nanny.”

The thud of the bags hitting the floor could be heard all the way out in the hall.