Читать книгу Father Most Blessed - Marta Perry - Страница 9

“D ad, is Maida going to come back?”

The forlorn note in his son’s voice touched Alex’s heart. What did Jason fear? That Maida had gone away and would never come back, like his mother?

Careful, careful. “What makes you think she won’t come back?”

Alex glanced across the front seat of the car. Jason, who’d seemed happy enough at the restaurant, now sat clutching the plastic action figure that had come with his meal.

He frowned down at the figure, then looked up, his small face tightening into the mask that frustrated Alex as much as it did Jason’s teachers.

Where has he gone, Lord? Where is the sunny little boy Jason used to be?

He felt almost embarrassed at the involuntary prayer, and his hands tightened on the wheel with determination. He was all Jason had, and he wouldn’t let him down.

His son shouldn’t have to worry, about Maida or anything else. Naturally he’d had to tell Jason something to explain Maida’s absence, but he’d said as little as possible.

“She’s just tired,” he said now, trying to sound cheerful. “She needs to rest more. It’s nothing you have to be concerned about. She’ll be back before you know it, and everything will be fine.”

They passed twin stone pillars and swung into the driveway. Paula, still wearing the jeans and sweatshirt that seemed to be her uniform, was bending over the trunk of a disreputable old car in his garage. She looked up at their approach, and he pulled into the bay next to her. When he got out, she was already explaining.

“I hope this is okay. Aunt Maida said you wouldn’t mind if I parked my car here.” She glanced down the row of empty bays, a question in her eyes.

“No problem. I got rid of the other cars after my father died.”

Nobody needed five cars. His father had insisted on trying to relive the old days, when a full-time chauffeur had taken loving care of a fleet of vehicles, a full-time gardener tended the roses, and Maida supervised a staff of three indoors. Now they made do with a cleaning company and a lawn service, with Maida watching Jason when he wasn’t in school.

He waited for Paula to make some comment, but her attention was fixed on the small figure coming around the car.

“Jason, hi. It’s good to see you again.”

Jason nodded warily, always seeming on guard with strangers. Not that Paula was exactly a stranger, but at his age, two years was a long time.

“Hey, you got the green Raider.” She touched the action figure Jason held. “Good going. He’s the best, isn’t he?”

His son’s protective stance relaxed a little. “One of the guys in my class says the orange one’s better, but I like the green one. He can do cool stuff.”

“He sure can. Did you see the story where he rescued the princess?”

“Yeah. And when he set all the horses free. That was neat.” Jason’s face grew animated as he talked about the latest adventure of his action hero.

How had Paula gotten past his son’s defenses so quickly? Alex felt something that might have been envy, then dismissed it. She was a teacher—she should be good with children.

Paula pulled a duffel bag from the trunk, and Alex reached out to take it from her. It was heavier than it looked, and for a moment their hands entangled.

“Rocks?” he enquired, lifting an eyebrow.

“Books.” She made an abortive movement, as if to take the bag back, then seemed to think better of it. “I never go anywhere without them.”

He glanced into the car’s trunk. One cardboard carton overflowed with construction paper, and a plastic Halloween pumpkin poked improbably from another. “It looks as if you’ve brought everything you own.”

He meant the comment lightly, but a shadow crossed her face. It told him more clearly than words that how long she stayed depended on him. She shrugged, turning to pull out another bag.

“Most of this stuff is from my classroom. I loaded it up the last day and didn’t take the time to unload before I left to come here.”

“I’ll carry that one.” Jason reached for the small bag.

“Thanks, Jason.” She smiled, surrendering it to him, then hefted a box out and slammed the trunk. “I think that’s it.” She glanced at Alex. “If you’re sure it’s okay for me to leave the car here?”

“It’s fine,” he said firmly. He’d rather see that poor excuse for a car hidden behind garage doors than parked in his drive. Lifting the duffel bag, he led the way around down the walk toward the rear of the house.

The setting sun turned the swimming pool’s surface to gold as they neared the flagstone patio. He hadn’t done the water exercises for his injured leg today, and it took an effort to walk evenly carrying the heavy bag. He’d already seen Paula’s expression at the scar on his face. He didn’t want to see more pity if she caught him limping.

What did she really think about this idea of Maida’s? Had it made her remember what happened between them the last time she was here?

One kiss, that was all. It was ridiculous to worry about the effect of one kiss. Of course he shouldn’t have done it. She’d been working in his house, and that alone made her out of bounds to him.

Even if that hadn’t been the case, he’d learned something when his wife’s death, so soon after she’d left him, had made patching up their failing marriage impossible. Even if Karin had survived, even if she’d come back to the small-town life she detested, he’d known then that finding the love of a lifetime was an illusion. Reality was raising his son properly and maintaining the business this whole town relied on. He didn’t intend to chase any more romantic rainbows.

So what was he doing watching Paula’s smooth, easy stride, eyeing the swing of blond hair against her shoulder when she looked down to smile at Jason? He should have better sense.

She paused at the pool, bending to dip her fingers in the water. “Nice. I’ll bet you’re in the pool all the time, now that school’s out.”

Jason shrugged. “Mostly my dad uses it. To make his leg better.”

Alex braced himself for the look of pity, but she just nodded.

“Good idea.”

“If you’d like to use the pool while you’re here, please do.” He disliked the stilted tone of his voice. Paula’s presence had thrown him off balance. She was part of an embarrassing incident in his past, and she was also a reminder of the plane crash.

But she’d probably long since forgotten about that kiss. As for the accident, that was something every survivor had to deal with in his own way.

“Thanks.” She stood. “I don’t know if I’ll be here that long.”

Her words challenged him, but he wouldn’t be drawn in. He’d ignore that particular problem for the moment. Jason had gotten several strides ahead, leaving them side by side. As they headed for the housekeeper’s cottage, Alex lowered his voice. “How did Maida seem when you visited her? I hope she’s not too worried about the surgery. Or about not having told me. She needs to concentrate on getting well, rather than worrying about us.”

She hesitated, frown lines creasing her forehead. “She seems to trust the doctor to put things right. We didn’t talk long.”

“That sounds a bit evasive.”

She shot him an annoyed look. “Don’t you think it would be more polite not to say so?”

He’d forgotten that directness of hers. It made him smile—when it wasn’t irritating him. “I’m worried about Maida, too. Remember?”

“Are you?”

“Yes.” All right, now he was annoyed. Maybe that was a safer way to feel with Paula, anyway. “Believe it or not, you’re not the only one who cares about her.”

Her clear green eyes seemed to weigh his sincerity. Then she nodded with a kind of cautious acceptance. “The surgeon says she should come through the operation with flying colors, and then Brett will supervise her rehabilitation. That’ll take time, and he wouldn’t guess how long until she can come home.”

He glanced at his son. “I haven’t mentioned the surgery to Jason. I just said Maida needed a rest. The less he knows, the better.”

She frowned as if disagreeing, but didn’t argue. She moved toward his son. “Just put that on the porch, Jason. I’ll take it in later.”

She dropped her bags and sat down on the step, then patted the spot next to her. “Have a seat and tell me what’s been going on. I haven’t seen you for a long time.”

Jason sat cautiously, seeming ready to dart away at a moment’s notice.

Had Alex been that shy when he was Jason’s age? He thought not, but then his father had always insisted on the social graces, no matter what he actually felt. Maybe, if his mother had lived, things would have been different. He stood stiffly, not comfortable with sitting down next to them, not willing to walk away, either.

“Bet you’re glad school’s out for the summer,” Paula said. “I know my kids were.”

Jason glanced up at her. “You have kids?”

“My students,” she corrected herself. “I teach kindergarten. My school finished up yesterday, and everyone celebrated. Did you have a party the last day?”

Jason nodded. “We played games. And Maida made cupcakes for me to take.”

Alex hadn’t known that, but, of course, it was the sort of thing Maida would do. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to ease the pain in his leg. With the crucial business deal pending, he’d had trouble keeping up with anything else lately, including second-grade parties. He should go in and get back to work, but still he lingered, watching Paula with his son.

“I’ll bet the kids liked those,” she said. “Maida makes the best cupcakes.”

Jason nodded, glancing down at the step he was scuffing with the toe of his shoe. Then he looked up at Paula. “Did you come here to teach me?”

“Teach you?” she echoed. “Why would I do that? School’s out for the summer.”

Jason shrugged, not looking at either of them. “My dad thinks I should do better in school.”

Shock took Alex’s breath away for a moment. Then he found his voice. “Jason, I don’t think that at all. And it’s not something we should talk about to Paula, anyway.”

Paula ignored him, all her attention focused on Jason. Her hand rested lightly on his son’s shoulder. “Hey, second grade is tough for lots of people. I remember how hard it was when I had to start writing instead of printing. My teacher said my cursive looked like chicken scratches.”

“Honest?” Jason darted a glance at her.

“Honest.” She smiled at him. “You can ask Aunt Maida if you don’t believe me. She probably remembers when I used to try to write letters to her. Sometimes she’d call me to find out what I’d said.”

She’d managed to wipe the tension from Jason’s face with a few words. Alex didn’t know whether to be pleased or jealous that she’d formed such instant rapport with his son. Paula seemed to have a talent for inspiring mixed feelings in him.

Her blond hair swung across her cheek as she leaned toward Jason, saying something. The impulse to reach out and brush it back was so strong that his hand actually started to move before common sense took over.

Mixed feelings, indeed. The predominant feeling he had toward Paula Hansen wasn’t mixed at all. It was one he’d better ignore, for both their sakes.

Paula stood on the tiny porch of the housekeeper’s cottage the next morning, looking across the expansive grounds that glistened from last night’s shower. The sun, having made it over the steep mountains surrounding Bedford Creek, slanted toward the birch tree at the end of the pool, turning its wet leaves to silver. The only sound that pierced the stillness was the persistent call of a bobwhite.

The stillness had made this secluded village seem like a haven to her when she was a child. She’d arrived in the Pennsylvania mountains from Baltimore, leaving behind the crowded row house echoing with the noise her brothers made. Four brothers—all of them older, all of them thinking they had the right to boss her around. Her childhood had sometimes seemed like one long battle—for privacy, for space, for the freedom to be who she was.

Here she’d stepped into a different world—one with nature on the doorstep, one filled with order and quiet. She couldn’t possibly imagine the Caine mansion putting up with a loud game of keep-away in its center hall. It would have ejected the intruders forcibly.

Paula glanced toward the back of the mansion, wondering how much Alex had changed it since his father’s death. The room on the end was the solarium. She remembered it filled with plants, but Alex had apparently converted it to a workout room. She could see the equipment through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Next came the kitchen, with its smaller windows overlooking the pool. She should be there right now, fixing breakfast for Alex and Jason, but Alex had made it very clear he didn’t want that.

Aunt Maida wasn’t going to be happy. The last thing she’d said the night before had been to fix breakfast. Paula’s protests—that Alex had told her not to, that Alex hadn’t agreed to let her stay yet—had fallen on deaf ears.

Maida’s stubborn streak was legendary in the Hansen family. Paula’s father was the same, and any battle between Maida and him was a clash of wills. She vividly remembered the war over Maida’s determination that Paula go to college. If not for Maida, Paula might have given up, accepting her father’s dictum that girls got marriage certificates, not degrees. Her dream of a profession might have remained a dream.

But Maida wouldn’t allow that. She’d pushed, encouraged, demanded. Paula had worked two jobs for most of the four years of college, but she’d made it through, thanks to Aunt Maida.

She leaned against the porch rail, watching a pair of wrens twittering in the thick yew hedge that stretched from the housekeeper’s cottage toward the garage. If only she could find a way to help her aunt, to help Jason, without being a servant in Alex Caine’s house.

She and Jason had played on the flagstone patio when she was his nanny. They’d sat in the gazebo with a storybook, and he’d leaned against her confidently, his small head burrowed against her arm. She remembered, so well, the vulnerable curve of his neck, the little-boy smell of him. He’d look up at her, his dark eyes so like his father’s, sure he could trust her, sure she’d be there for him. And then she’d gone away.

What am I supposed to do, Lord? If Alex said no, would she be upset or would she be relieved? Only the guilt she felt over Jason kept her from running in the opposite direction rather than face Alex Caine every day and remember how he’d kissed her and then turned away, embarrassed.

Infatuation, she told herself sternly. It was infatuation, nothing more. She would stop imagining it was love.

She remembered, only too clearly, standing in the moonlight looking up at him, her feelings surely written on her face. Then recognition swept over her. Alex regretted that kiss. He probably thought she’d invited it. Humiliation flooded her, as harsh and scalding as acid.

She’d mumbled some excuse and run back to Aunt Maida’s cottage. And a few days later, when she’d realized the feelings weren’t going to fade, she’d made another excuse and left her job several weeks earlier than she’d intended, prepared to scurry back to Baltimore.

The flow of memories slowed, sputtering to a painful halt. Her last clear recollection was of Alex lifting her suitcase into the limo next to his own, saying he had to take the commuter flight out that day, too. Then—nothing. She’d eventually regained the rest of her memories, but the actual take-off and crash remained hidden, perhaps gone forever.

When she’d recovered enough to ask questions, her parents had simply said she’d been on her way home from her summer job. If she’d remembered then, would she have done anything differently? She wasn’t sure. The failure had lain hidden in her mind.

Now, according to Aunt Maida, anyway, God was giving her a chance to make up for whatever mistakes she’d made then. Unlike most of the people Paula knew, Aunt Maida never hesitated to bring God into every decision.

Whether Maida was right about God’s will, Paula didn’t know. But her aunt was right about one thing—Jason had changed. Paula pictured his wary expression, the way he hunched his shoulders. The happy child he’d been once had vanished.

Of course, he was old enough now to understand a little more about his mother’s leaving. That traumatic event, followed so soon by the plane crash that injured his father, was enough to cause problems for any child. And he must know that his mother wouldn’t be coming back. Maida had told her the details that hadn’t appeared in Karin’s brief obituary—the wild party, the drunken driver. Paula frowned, thinking of students who’d struggled with similar losses.

A flicker of movement beyond the yew hedge caught her eye. Between the glossy dark leaves, she glimpsed a bright yellow shirt. She’d thought Jason was at breakfast with his father. What was he doing?

She rounded the corner of the cottage and spotted the child. The greeting she’d been about to call out died on her lips. All her teacher instincts went on alert. She might not know Jason well any longer, but she knew what a kid up to something looked like. Jason bent over something on the ground, his body shielding it from her view.

She moved quietly across the grass. “Jason? What’s up?”

He jerked around at her voice, dropping the object he held. The crumpled paper lit with a sudden spark, a flame shooting up.

She winced back, heart pounding, stomach contracting. Run! a voice screamed in her head. Run!

She took a breath, then another. She didn’t need to run. Nothing would hurt her. It’s all right. She repeated the comforting words over in her mind. It was all right.

Except that it wasn’t. Quite aside from the terror of fire that had plagued her since the accident, what was Jason doing playing with matches? Another thought jolted her. Was this connected with his father’s narrow escape from a fiery death?

Carefully she stepped on the spark that remained, grinding it into the still-wet grass. The scent of burning lingered in the air, sickening her.

She looked at Jason, and he took a quick step back. “Where’d you get the matches, Jason?”

His lower lip came out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have any matches.”

“Sure you do.” She held out her hand. “Give them to me.”

Maybe it was the calm, authoritative “teacher” voice. Jason dug into his jeans’ pocket, pulled out the matchbook and dropped it into her hand.

She closed her fingers firmly around it. She wouldn’t let them tremble. “Where did you get this?”

For a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer. He glared at her, dark eyes defiant. Then he shrugged. “My dad’s desk. Are you gonna tell him?”

“I think someone should, don’t you?” It would hardly be surprising if Jason’s unresolved feelings about his father’s accident had led to a fascination with fire. Not surprising, but dangerous.

“No!” His anger flared so suddenly that it caught her by surprise. His small fists clenched. “Leave me alone.”

“Jason…” She reached toward him, impelled by the need to comfort him, but he dodged away from her.

“Go away!” He nearly shouted the words. “Just go away!” He turned and ran toward the house.

She discovered she was shaking and wrapped her arms around herself. Jason had made his feelings clear. His was definitely a vote for her to leave.

Alex put the weights back on their rack and stretched, gently flexing his injured knee. Brett Elliot, one of his oldest friends as well as his doctor, would personally supervise his workouts if he thought Alex was skipping them. And Brett was right; Alex had to admit it. The exercise therapy had brought him miles from where he’d been after the accident.

He toweled off, then picked up his juice bottle and stepped through the French doors to the flagstones surrounding the pool. The water looked tempting with the hot June sunshine bouncing from its surface, but he had another goal in mind at the moment. Jason was off on some game of his own. It was time Alex talked to Paula. He had to find some graceful way to get them both out of this difficult situation, in spite of the fact that he hadn’t yet found someone else to replace Maida.

His timing seemed perfect. Paula was coming around the pool toward the house, dressed a bit formally for her. Instead of her usual jeans, she wore neat tan slacks and a bright coral top—probably a concession for a trip to the hospital. She briefly checked her swift stride when she saw him, and then she came toward him.

“Good morning.” He tossed the towel over his shoulder and set his juice bottle on the patio table. Business, he reminded himself. “I hoped I’d have a chance to see you this morning.”

Paula rubbed her arms, as if she were cold in spite of the June sunshine. “Aren’t you going to the factory today?”

“Not until later,” he said. “I’ll work at home for a while, then stop by the hospital to see how Maida’s doing.” He hesitated, looking for words, but since Paula was so direct herself, she should appreciate the same from him. “We should get a few things settled.”

For just an instant Paula’s eyes were puzzled, as if she’d been thinking about something else entirely. Then she gave him a wary look and took a step back.

“I have to leave for the hospital.” She glanced at her watch. “I want to be there when Aunt Maida wakes up from the operation.”

“This will take just a few minutes. We’ve got to discuss this idea of Maida’s.” He knew he sounded inflexible, but he didn’t want to put this off. The longer he waited, the more difficult it would be.

He pulled out a deck chair for her. Looking reluctant, she sat down. He settled in the seat next to her and instantly regretted his choice. They were facing the gazebo at the end of the pool. They shouldn’t be having this conversation in view of the spot where he’d kissed her.

But it was too late now, and maybe it was just as well. That embarrassing episode should make her as reluctant as he was to pursue Maida’s scheme. He’d give her an easy way out of this dilemma, that was all. And she’d be ready to leave.

Paula tugged at the sleeves of her knit top. Apparently she did that whenever she was nervous, as if she were protecting herself. He tried not to notice how the coral sweater brought out the warm, peachy color in her cheeks, or how the fine gold chain she wore glinted against her skin.

Stick to business, he ordered himself. That was a good way to think of it. This was just like any business negotiation, and they both needed to go away from it feeling they’d gained something.

“Be honest with me, Paula. You don’t really want to work here this summer, do you?”

She glanced up at him, a startled expression in her eyes. “What makes you say that?”

To his surprise, he couldn’t quite get the real reason out. Because the last time you were here, I kissed you and created an awkward situation for both of us. Because in spite of that, I still find you too attractive for my own peace of mind.

No, he didn’t want to say any of that. He tried a different tack.

“You probably had a teaching job of some sort lined up for the summer, didn’t you?”

She shook her head, a rueful smile touching her lips. “There’s not much teaching available in the summer. I was signed up with a temp agency for office work.”

“Office work?” He couldn’t stop the surprise in his voice, and realized instantly how condescending it sounded. “Why? I mean, couldn’t you find anything else?”

Her expression suggested he didn’t have a clue as to how the real world worked. “Kindergarten teachers aren’t exactly on corporate headhunters’ wish lists, you know.”

“But aren’t there courses you want to take in the summer?” He didn’t know why the thought of Paula taking temporary work to make ends meet bothered him so much. His reaction was totally irrational.

“I can’t afford to take classes.” She said it slowly and distinctly, as if they spoke different languages. “I have college loans to pay off.”

Belatedly he reminded himself he was supposed to be dissuading her from working for him. “Even so, I can’t imagine that you’d want to come here to cook and take care of Jason, instead.”

He saw immediately that he’d said the wrong thing. In fact, he’d probably said a lot of wrong things. Paula had that effect on him.

She stiffened, and anger flared in her face. “Cooking is honest work. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in what my aunt does,” she snapped, and she gripped the arms of the deck chair as if about to launch herself out of it.

“No, of course not.” He seemed to be going even farther in the wrong direction. “I didn’t mean to imply that.”

She stood, anger coming off her in waves. “I really have to leave for the hospital now, Alex. I’ve told my aunt I’m willing to fill in for her here as long as necessary, but, of course, you may have other plans. Either way, it’s up to you.”

She spun on her heel before he could find words to stop her. He watched her stalk toward the garage, head high.

Great. That was certainly the clumsiest negotiation he’d ever attempted. If he did that poorly in the business deal, the plant would be closed within a month.

Paula had thrown the decision right back into his lap, and she’d certainly made her position clear. If he didn’t want her here, he’d have to be the one to say it. Unfortunately, where Paula was concerned, he really wasn’t sure what he wanted.