Читать книгу A Match for the Doctor / What the Single Dad Wants…: A Match for the Doctor - Marie Ferrarella, Marie Ferrarella - Страница 12

“Is she going to be coming back, Daddy?”

Madelyn’s questions came right on the heels of the quick greeting she’d given him when he picked her and her sister up from school that afternoon. She looked at him pointedly after she scrambled into the backseat and sat down beside Meghan.

“Is who coming back?” Simon asked absently as he helped Meghan fasten her seat belt and then tested it to make sure it had snapped into place.

“Kennon,” Meghan piped up. She smiled broadly as she gave the absent woman her seal of approval. “I like her, Daddy.”

He glanced at his younger daughter. Meghan was the warm and sunny one. She took after Nancy, while Madelyn was more like him. Cautious. At least, until today, he amended.

He laughed shortly, shaking his head. “You like everyone,” he told her.

“But Kennon’s nice,” Madelyn insisted. Her tone said that she usually agreed with her father, but in this one instance, Meghan was actually right. “So, is she?”

“Is she what?” Simon asked, getting back into the driver’s seat. He quickly strapped himself in, then started up the vehicle.

Madelyn sighed loudly. “Is she coming back?” she repeated her initial question. “Daddy, aren’t you paying attention?” she asked in exasperation.

Now she sounded like her mother, the few times that Nancy had lost her patience with him. Even Madelyn’s inflection was the same. He had to stop doing this, Simon silently lectured himself.

“Sorry,” he apologized, easing away from the curb and waiting for his turn to enter the flow of snail-paced traffic. “My mind was wandering.”

“Where did it go, Daddy?” Meghan asked. At six she was a walking mass of question marks. “I didn’t see it go. Is it really little?” she asked, trying to lean forward. The seat belt restrained her and she wriggled in her seat.

“No, stupid,” Madelyn said impatiently. “Daddy just means he was thinking of something else.”

Which led Meghan to another question. “What, Daddy? What were you thinking of?” the little girl asked him eagerly.

Madelyn joined forces with Meghan and added her voice to her sister’s. “Yeah, what, Daddy?”

He glanced over his shoulder at their inquisitive, lively little faces. God, he wished he could be that young again. That young and able to bounce back from anything.

He couldn’t tell them that he was thinking about their mother, couldn’t chance bringing them down because he was a stickler for the truth. So he lied. It was kinder all around that way.

“I was just thinking about what two little girls might want for dinner.”

“Us, Daddy? Are the two little girls us?” Meghan asked eagerly, her green eyes shining.

“Yes,” he replied. Finally out on the main thoroughfare, he glanced at Meghan in the rearview mirror. The flow of traffic picked up. “The two little girls are you and your sister.”

“You still didn’t answer my question, Daddy,” Madelyn reminded him.

Madelyn was like a bulldog when she got hold of something, he thought. She didn’t let loose until she had what she wanted. In this case, it was answers to her question. This time, he needed no prompting to recall the topic.

“You really liked this woman?”

It was Meghan who piped up first. “Oh, yes, Daddy. She smells good.”

“Not an unimportant quality,” he agreed, amused. The light turned yellow. Alone he would have sped through. But he had the girls with him, so he slowed down and waited. The light turned red a beat later. “Anything else?”

“She talked to us,” Meghan added brightly with enthusiasm.

“All right.” He had already gathered that. So far, he wasn’t sure he understood what the girls’ excitement about the woman was. At least, not on the junior level. Had they been teenage boys instead, he would have easily understood the attraction. Petite, she appeared to have a shapely form and her facial bone structure was such that a plastic surgeon would have wept with envy.

His powers of observation had obviously become more acute.

When had that happened?

Madelyn, his resident little wise woman, apparently had picked up on the fact that he didn’t fully understand what her sister was telling him.

“No, Daddy, she talked to us,” she emphasized. “Not at us, to us. She treats like us people. Like Edna does,” she added in an effort to make him understand what she meant.

And as he didn’t, Simon thought. He knew he was struggling and somewhat remiss in his job as a parent.

As their only parent.

This was tough going. It wasn’t that he didn’t love them—he did, but he just couldn’t show it, didn’t know how to show it or how to express it. Moreover, although they were his blood, he had trouble relating to them.

His own parents had been distant while he was growing up and thus he had no real clue how to talk to his own children, not in the way he felt that Madelyn meant.

That sort of communication had been up to his wife and Edna. They had both dealt with the day-to-day business of the girls’ lives. He had never developed the knack. Work became his sanctuary, his excuse, his very validation. His contact with them heretofore was cursory. He only interacted with them on occasion, making sure that they were fed and clothed and thriving, at least physically. As for how they were faring emotionally, well, that was something else again, something he felt that he wasn’t equipped to handle. But that was all right as long as they’d had their mother.

But now they didn’t have her.

He knew that he had shortcomings. He’d never pretended otherwise. Serious shortcomings, highlighted by the fact that a complete stranger, practically walking in off the street, was better at interacting with his daughters than he was.

“Would you like Miss Cassidy to come back?” He asked the question to humor them. He assumed they’d say yes, but he wasn’t prepared for the loud chorus of “Yes!” that assaulted his ears. For two rather small girls, they had powerful vocal chords when they were motivated.

“Is she going to be our new nanny?” Meghan asked.

Madelyn frowned, instantly thinking ahead. “Doesn’t Edna like us anymore?”

He felt like Pandora several seconds after opening the legendary box. “Of course Edna likes you. She’s just not feeling well and, no, Miss Cassidy isn’t going to be your new nanny.”

“Then what is she going to be?” Madelyn wanted to know.

More than likely, a pain in my butt.

Simon had no idea where that had come from or why he was so certain that it was true, but he was. There was something about the determined look in the woman’s eyes as she had left the house that had put him on notice, telling him he was about to, willingly or otherwise, enter a heretofore undiscovered region.

He hoped he was wrong.

But the girls did like her, as apparently did Edna. The bottom line was that he did need to have the house furnished and he had no time to get involved in doing the job himself. Like most males over the age of five, he hated shopping. This was an additional, overwhelming chore he didn’t want to burden Edna with. She had enough to handle, taking care of the girls. And besides, the woman was getting on in years.

“Miss Cassidy is going to decorate our house,” he told them simply.

“You mean like for Christmas?” Meghan asked breathlessly.

“No, Christmas is in December. This is May,” Madelyn informed her sister haughtily with a sniff. “Don’t you know anything?”

Undaunted, Meghan shot back, “I know lots of stuff. Don’t I, Daddy?” she asked, looking to her father for backup.

“Yes, you do. You both do,” he added quickly. The one thing Nancy had managed to impress upon him was the need to treat the girls equally and to maintain neutrality whenever possible. “Miss Cassidy is going to be buying new furniture for the house.”

“Can we help her buy the furniture?” Meghan asked eagerly.

“Well, I can’t see why not. Sure, by all means, help her,” he agreed.

This way, the woman would be way too busy dealing with the girls to try to rope him into coming along on any of her shopping trips. He viewed it as a win-win situation.

* * *

The moment she walked in the door, Nathan put down the bolts of cloth he was working with and sent a scrutinizing look her way, curiosity rising up in his large, brown eyes.

“So? How did it go?” he prodded.

Kennon felt not unlike someone who had just endured a marathon and was close to being out of breath, except that she hadn’t run a marathon and she had absolutely no reason to feel that way.

Dropping her purse onto her desk, she sank down in her oversize, incredibly soft leather chair. “Strangely, very strangely.”

“You’re going to have to be a little clearer than that,” Nathan told her. He pulled up a chair and planted himself beside her, a vacant vessel eagerly seeking to be filled.

Kennon began with the basic information. “The doctor has—”

“Wait, he’s a doctor?” Nathan repeated the vocation as if it was one step removed from king.

“Yes, he’s a doctor,” she pressed on. “And he’s got a brand-new two-story house that’s completely empty, except for a couple of pieces of furniture here and there.”

Nathan’s appetite was completely engaged and in high gear. Though he only leaned forward, she could visualize him rubbing his hands together. “Great, depending on his tastes and what he wants, that should keep you busy for the next couple of months.”

She frowned and shook her head. “That’s just it, I don’t know his tastes or what he wants.”

Nathan didn’t see the problem. “Ask,” he all but commanded.

She looked at him incredulously. Did he think she was some shrinking violet, afraid to open her mouth?

“I did.”

“And?”

“And he said I should use my judgment.”

Nathan looked two steps removed from dancing around her desk with glee.

“Even better,” he enthused. “He gave you carte blanche,” he said, savoring the term. “Carte blanche, Kennon,” he repeated, unable to understand why she wasn’t overjoyed the way he was. “That means that he won’t be getting in the way or underfoot and you can create the house of your—his dreams.”

That was just the problem. How would she be successful at that if she hadn’t a clue of what the man’s “dreams” were?

She knew that business had been slow and Nathan was visualizing profits, but that wasn’t all there was to consider here.

“I have a feeling that Dr. Simon Sheffield is a very opinionated man and if I don’t guess right about what he likes and doesn’t like, this venture isn’t going to turn out well at all.”

Nathan looked at her knowingly, as if he expected her to make a rabbit materialize without the benefit of even a hat.

“Have a little faith, Kennon,” he coaxed, his eyes locking with hers. “I do. Work a little of your magic. Talk to him a little, get the man to come out of his shell.” He beamed at his mentor. He’d had his pick of people to apprentice with and observe. He’d picked her for a reason, not by chance. “I never knew anyone who could pick up on people’s vibes the way you can. That’s why you’re so good.”

A little stunned, Kennon wondered if she should be checking the parking structure for signs of a pod. “Why, Nathan, is that a compliment?”

One of his thin shoulders rose and fell in an absent shrug. “It could be construed that way,” he allowed vaguely, then warned, “But if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”

Kennon smiled at him. Just when she thought she could read him like a book, down to his last disgruntled comment, Nathan surprised her. It kept things fresh, she mused.

“As long as I know, that’s all that matters.” His words replayed in her head and she paused abruptly, thinking.

Because she’d stopped talking, Nathan looked at her, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to hone in on her thoughts.

“I can hear the wheels turning in your head,” he told her. “What’s going on in there?”

“Maybe a little strategy,” she replied, considering her next move.

Nathan grinned from ear to ear. “That’s my girl,” he declared with feeling. The next moment, Kennon rose to her feet again and tucked her bag strap over her shoulder. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the battlefield,” Kennon replied, tossing the words over her shoulder. “I intend to get to know the subject whether he likes it or not.”

She had more in mind than just that, but this wasn’t the time to fill Nathan in on her game plan. First she would see just how entrenched she needed to get into Dr. Sheffield’s life.

And that was the Kennon Cassidy he knew and loved, Nathan thought. “You go get ‘im, boss,” he called after her.

Kennon didn’t bother turning around. She had work to do.

I fully intend to, Nathan. I fully intend to.

Simon glared and willed the doorbell to be silent.

But it rang again.

Because the girls were within earshot, he swallowed the oath that rose to his lips. He didn’t feel like putting up with anyone. Moreover, he wasn’t expecting anyone. There wasn’t anyone to expect, especially since they were new to the area and, other than the chief of surgery and the principal of the girls’ school, neither of whom had any reason to be ringing his doorbell, he didn’t actually know anyone yet.

Just then, Meghan ran by him like a shot, her focus, the front door.

“Hold it, Meghan!” he called out, exasperated as he came to life and ran after her. “I told you never to let anyone in.”

Looking crestfallen, his younger daughter halted mid-dash, her mission suddenly aborted. “Sorry, Daddy. I was just trying to help.”

He was on the verge of lecturing her that there was a right way and a wrong way to “help,” but she seemed so sad and so earnest at the same time, he found he hadn’t the heart to reprimand her. Instead, he decided to make no comment, feeling it might be better that way.

These days, he operated with a shorter fuse, much shorter than usual, and he didn’t want to risk saying anything in anger that would upset either one of his daughters. Their feelings were particularly fragile and he wasn’t given to apologies. He would have no idea how to reinstate himself into their favor should he ever do anything to bruise their feelings and cause them to look upon him with either fear or a childish sort of disdain.

By the time the doorbell rang for a third time, he’d reached it. Yanking the door open he all but shouted, “Yes?” only to find Kennon Cassidy standing on his doorstep. Again.

A definite sensation of déjà vu washed over him. As did an unexpected, warm feeling he immediately banked down. He did his best to collect his temper and lower his tone. “Did you forget something?”

Now here was a man whose very voice could scare off burglars, she thought. Lucky for her she wasn’t faint of heart. “Yes, that you had no actual pots and pans beyond the one I used for soup.”

And what did that have to do with anything? he wondered. He glanced at the large box she held. By the way she boosted it, he figured it had to be heavy. “And what? You bought a set for us?”

“No, I’m lending you a set.”

As she confirmed his suspicions, Simon took the box from her. He was right, these were heavy. The woman was stronger than she looked.

“These are mine,” she told him, following him into the house. “You can use them until we start outfitting your kitchen.”

Hearing her voice, Madelyn came hurrying into the foyer to join her sister. Both girls wiggled in ahead of him, Simon noted, in their efforts to get closer to this woman who was obviously some sort of modern-day female Pied Piper.

Either that or she’d cast some kind of hypnotic spell over his daughters. He’d never seen them take to anyone so quickly. Or so eagerly.

“You came back!” Meghan cried happily, her eyes shining.

Kennon grinned at her and tousled the girl’s dark hair affectionately. “Yes, I did.”

“Are you going to come in?” Madelyn asked in a sophisticated tone, though it didn’t hide her feelings about Kennon’s return.

Kennon looked up at the girls’ father. He appeared almost stoic, standing there with the box of pots in his hands.

“I don’t know. Am I, Dr. Sheffield?” she asked the man.

He feigned surprise. “You’re actually asking my permission?”

Her expression said that was a given—he had no idea if she was sincere or merely putting him on. He had a feeling that his decorator got her way a lot.

“It is your house, Dr. Sheffield. You can invite anyone you want, or bar them from your property just as easily.”

He supposed, all things considered, it could be that easy—if he weren’t dealing with wistful, turned-up little faces.

“Lucky me.” And then he stepped back, giving her some room. “Come on in. The girls have already invited you. Who am I to stand in your way?”

As if it were that easy, Kennon thought. If the good doctor didn’t want her here, she’d be gone in a heartbeat and they both knew it.

Even as he invited her in, he saw her turn toward her vehicle. Now what?

“Just let me get the rest of the pots and pans out of the car,” she told him.

There were more? Who did she expect Edna to be cooking for? A reserve branch of the marines?

“Can we help?” Meghan asked eagerly.

Kennon paused. “That’s up to your dad, but I would love some help if he says it’s all right.”

How had she done that? Simon wondered. How had she lobbed the ball back onto his court and stolen his team at the same time? He wondered if that was part of her business training or if executing sleights of hand like that just came naturally to her. In either case, this was not the simple, fluffy-looking woman she appeared to be at first encounter.

“Fine.”

Balancing the box she’d given him and shifting it to one side against his hip, he silently gestured for his daughters to go ahead and help the woman retrieve whatever else she’d decided to bring along to “lend” him.

For once, neither Madelyn nor Meghan needed to be told twice.