Father Most Blessed
Marta Perry
COULD SHE GO HOME AGAIN?Paula Hansen had her doubts about returning to Bedford Creek and Alex Caine–the man she'd once loved–but she knew she couldn't deny her aunt's request. So she'd turned to God for guidance, and heard His answer loud and clear. She needed to put memories of their past aside and help bring this proudly independent father and his troubled son closer together….Burdened with saving his family's company, Alex soon discovered Paula was the answer to his prayers. And now that he'd been blessed with a second chance, he'd do anything to make sure that this time, Paula would be in his life forever!
“Why on earth don’t you replace this…stuff?
It’s your house, after all.”
Alex’s gaze lingered on the heavy oil portrait of his grandfather that hung over the dining-room fireplace. “Sometimes I find that hard to believe.”
His words were so quiet, he almost seemed to be speaking to himself. Paula wanted to argue, but instinctively she knew it wouldn’t do any good. She’d been wrong. It wasn’t his house, not in the way she understood those words. It was the Caine mansion, and right now Alex looked as if that were a heavy burden.
She frowned down at the folder in her hand. “I’ll get started on this.”
Alex turned toward her, seeming to shake off the clouds that surrounded him. “Thank you.”
“For what? It’s my job.” It was hard to sound casual when her heart clenched at his closeness.
“For being here. For helping me. I’m glad you’re back.”
MARTA PERRY
wanted to be a writer from the moment she encountered Nancy Drew, at about age eight. She didn’t see publication of her stories until many years later, when she began writing children’s fiction for Sunday school papers while she was a church educational director. Although now retired from that position in order to write full-time, she continues to play an active part in her church and loves teaching a class of lively fifth-and sixth-grade Sunday school students.
Marta lives in rural Pennsylvania with her husband of thirty-seven years and has three grown children. She loves to hear from readers and enjoys responding. She can be reached c/o Steeple Hill Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017.
Father Most Blessed
Marta Perry
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For it is by grace you have been saved, through
faith, and this not from yourselves: it is the gift of
God—not by works, so that no one can boast.
—Ephesians 2:8-9
This story is dedicated with love and gratitude to
the siblings and spouses who add so much richness
to our lives: Pat and Ed, Bill and Molly,
Herb and Barb, Gary and Arddy, and Chris.
And, as always, to Brian.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Letter to Reader
Chapter One
A man who lived in a twenty-room house ought to be able to have silence when he wanted it. Alex Caine tossed his pen on the library desk and stalked to the center hallway of the Italianate mansion that had been home to the Caine family for three generations. The noise that had disrupted his work on a crucial business deal came from beyond the swinging door to the servants’ area.
Frowning, he headed toward the sound, his footsteps sharp on the marble floor, and pushed through the door to the rear of the house. He’d told his ailing housekeeper to rest this afternoon, so there should have been no sound at all to disturb his concentration. But Maida Hansen, having taken care of him since the day his mother died when he was six, tended to ignore any orders she didn’t want to follow.
Well, in this case she was going to listen. If he didn’t find the right words for this delicate negotiation, Caine Industries might not survive for another generation. There might be no company at all to leave to his son.
He winced. What would his grandfather or his father have said to that? They’d assumed they were founding a dynasty to last a hundred years. They wouldn’t look kindly on the man who presided over its demise.
The noise came from the pantry, down the hall from the kitchen. He seized the doorknob and yanked.
The figure balanced precariously on the step stool wasn’t Maida. Maida had never in her life worn blue jeans or a sweatshirt proclaiming her World’s Greatest Teacher. His heart stopped, and he looked at the woman he had thought he’d never see again.
“What’s going on?”
She spun at the sound of his voice, wobbled and overbalanced. Her arms waved wildly to regain control, but it was too late. The step stool toppled, sending her flying toward him. Pans clattered to the floor. In an instant his arms had closed around Paula Hansen.
The breath went out of him. Carefully he set her on her feet and stepped back, clamping down on the treacherous rush of feelings. Paula—here in his house again, looking up at him with what might have been embarrassment in her sea-green eyes.
With an effort he schooled his face to polite concern and found his voice. “Paula. I didn’t expect to find you here. Maida didn’t tell me you were coming.”
Maida’s time outside her duties was her own, and she was perfectly free to have her niece stay at the housekeeper’s cottage whenever she wanted to. But in the almost two years since the plane crash, since what had happened between them, Paula hadn’t returned to Bedford Creek.
“She didn’t tell you?” Surprise filled Paula’s expressive face. She tried to mask it, turning away to right the step stool.
“No, she didn’t.” If he’d known Paula was on the estate, he wouldn’t have betrayed shock at the sight of her. In fact, he’d probably have found a way to avoid seeing her at all.
“But I thought she…” Paula stopped, seeming to edit whatever she’d been about to say. “My school just got out for the summer yesterday, so I’m on vacation now.” Again she stopped, and again he had the sense of things left unsaid.
She’d been on vacation two years ago, when she’d come to Pennsylvania to spend the summer taking care of his son. It had seemed the perfect solution. He had needed someone reliable to care for Jason until kindergarten started in the fall. His housekeeper’s niece needed a summer job. Neither of them had anticipated anything else.
The June sunlight, slanting through the small panes of the pantry window, burnished the honey blond of her hair. Her hair was shorter now than the last time he’d seen her, and it fell in unruly curls around her face. Her green eyes still reflected glints of gold, and that vulnerable mouth and stubborn chin hadn’t changed.
Tension jagged along his nerves as images of the last time he’d seen her invaded his mind—lightning splitting the sky outside the small plane; the brief hope the pilot would manage to land, shattered when the plane cartwheeled and flames rushed toward him; Paula, several rows ahead, trapped in a mass of twisted metal. If an unexpected business trip hadn’t put him on the daily commuter flight the same day that Paula was leaving to go home, what might have happened? Would someone have pulled her from the jammed seat to safety?
“Is something wrong?” She pulled her sweatshirt sleeves down, frowning. “You don’t mind that I’m here, do you?”
“Of course not. I’m just surprised.” He tried for a coolness he didn’t feel. “It didn’t bother you, flying back into Bedford Creek again?”
“No.” She shook her head, then smiled ruefully. “I suppose it might have, if I’d tried to do it. I drove up from Baltimore.”
Her admission of vulnerability startled him. The Paula he remembered had been proud of her self-reliance and determined not to accept help from anyone. Even after the accident, when he’d awakened in the hospital and learned her family had taken her home to Baltimore for medical care, his offer of financial help had been quickly refused.
“Driving instead of flying sounds reasonable to me,” he said. “I don’t enjoy getting on a plane now, either.”
His own admission shocked him even more. Alexander Caine didn’t admit weakness, not to anyone. His father had trained that out of him when he was about his own son’s age.
“I haven’t been on a plane since…” Paula’s gaze flickered away from the scar that accented Alex’s cheekbone.
His mouth stiffened, and he read the reaction he should have gotten used to by now. “The plane crash,” he finished for her, his tone dry. “You can say the words, you know.” He didn’t need or want her pity.
“The drive up wasn’t bad—just long.” She seemed determined to ignore his reference to the crash. She stared at the rows of shelves with their seldom-used dishes as if she really didn’t see them. Then her gaze shifted to him. “As I said, I’m on vacation, so I was free to come when Aunt Maida needed me.” Her expression turned challenging. “You have noticed she’s in pain lately, haven’t you?”
He stiffened at the implication of neglect in her pointed question. Of course he felt responsible for the woman who’d cared for his family all these years. But it wasn’t Paula Hansen’s place to question him.
“I’ve asked her repeatedly about her health,” he said. “She keeps insisting she’s fine.”
She lifted her eyebrows, her gaze turning skeptical. Paula’s face had always shown her emotions so clearly. A picture flashed into his mind of her lips close to his, her eyes soft.
No. He pushed the errant thought away. Don’t go there.
“Aunt Maida always insists she’s fine. But you must have noticed something.”
“She’s been tired and limping more lately.” He reached behind him for the door, hoping he didn’t sound defensive. He was wasting time in this futile discussion—time he didn’t have to spare. “I told her to take it easy this afternoon. She does too much.” He glanced at the pans scattered on the worn linoleum. “Instead, she seems to have enlisted you as assistant housekeeper.”
Her chin came up at that, as if it were an insult. “I’m glad to help my aunt.”
The last time she’d been here, it had been for her brief job as Jason’s nanny. Alex tried again to ignore the flood of memories of that time: the laughter and warmth she’d brought to this house, her face turned toward his in the moonlight, the moment he’d forgotten himself and kissed her—
Enough. He’d gotten through the remainder of her stay in Bedford Creek by pretending that kiss had never happened. Paula was probably as eager as he was to avoid the subject.
“I’ve already told Maida to rest more,” he said. “She won’t listen.”
“It isn’t just rest she needs.” She stared at him, a question in her green eyes. “You really don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?” He couldn’t erase the irritation from his tone. “What are you driving at, Paula? I don’t have time for guessing games.”
Her eyes flashed. “She can’t put it off any longer. Aunt Maida has to have hip replacement surgery.”
Surgery. The implications staggered him. Maida, the rock on which his home life depended, needed surgery. He fought past a wave of guilt that he hadn’t guessed what was going on.
“No, I didn’t know.” He returned Paula’s frown. “I wish Maida had told me, but if she didn’t want to, that was her right.”
“She didn’t tell you because she didn’t want you to worry.”
Paula clearly didn’t consider protecting him from worry a priority. Antagonism battled the attraction he felt just looking at her. Maybe it was a good thing she annoyed him so much. It reminded him not to let that attraction get out of control, as it had once before.
“That’s ridiculous,” he said shortly. “If she needs the operation now, she has to have it. There’s no question of that.”
Even as he frowned at Paula, his mind raced from one responsibility to another—his son, the factory, the business deal that might save them. His stomach clenched at the thought of the Swiss firm’s representative, due to visit any day now. He’d expect to be entertained in Alex’s home. How could Alex swing that without Maida’s calm, efficient management?
“My aunt knows this is a bad time for you. That’s probably why she hasn’t told you.”
He sensed Paula’s disapproval, although whether it was directed at him or her aunt, he didn’t know. “I’ll manage,” he said curtly. “I’ll have to find someone to fill in for her, that’s all.”
He knew when he said it how futile a hope that was. An isolated mountain village didn’t boast an army of trained domestics ready for hiring. He’d be lucky to find anyone at all in the middle of the tourist season.
“It won’t be easy to hire someone, will it?” She seemed to read his thoughts.
“No. I’m afraid Maida has spoiled us.” He should have known things couldn’t run so smoothly forever.
“Aunt Maida thinks she has a solution, if you’ll go along with it.”
He realized Paula was carefully not looking at him, and that fact sent up a red flag of warning. “What is it?”
Paula took a deep breath and fixed him with a look that was half embarrassed, half defiant. “She wants you to hire me as her replacement.”
For a long moment he could only stare at her. Paula—back in his house, cooking his meals, looking after his son. Given what had happened between them the last time she worked for him, he couldn’t believe she’d be willing to try it again.
One thing he could believe, though. Having Paula Hansen in his house again wouldn’t just be embarrassing. Having her there, seeing her every day, no matter how desperately he needed help—that would be downright insane.
The expression on Alex’s lean, aristocratic face showed Paula only too well exactly what he thought of her aunt’s idea. Why on earth hadn’t Aunt Maida told him before Paula arrived? Maida knew this situation would be difficult. She’d said she’d prepare the way. Instead, she’d brought Paula here without saying a word to Alex about it.
Of course, Aunt Maida couldn’t have known her niece would go weak-kneed at the sight of Alex Caine.
“I see.” Alex’s tone was coolly noncommittal, and the polite, well-bred mask he habitually wore slid into place.
It was too late. Naturally he wouldn’t come right out and tell her he didn’t want her in his house again. But she’d seen his swift, unguarded reaction. Her heart sank. She should have known he wouldn’t agree to this.
“Where is Maida? We need to talk about this.”
“She’s not here.” She took a deep breath and prepared for an explosion. Oh, Aunt Maida. Why didn’t you tell him? “She’s already checked into the hospital in Henderson.”
He started to speak, then clamped his mouth closed. Maybe he was counting to ten. She could only hope it worked.
“She’s scheduled for surgery tomorrow.” She might as well get it all out. If he intended to explode, he’d just have to do it once. “I guess she thought I could help out here, at least until you make a decision about replacing her.”
“You said she didn’t want to worry me. Did she think this wasn’t worrying—going to the hospital and leaving you to break the news?”
The fine lines around Alex’s dark eyes seemed to deepen. She longed to smooth them away with her fingertips. The urge, so strong her skin tingled, shocked her. She couldn’t think that, couldn’t feel it.
She didn’t have a good answer to his question. “I thought she planned to tell you. When we talked on the phone last week, she said she would.”
Maida had sounded so desperate. “I need you, Paula. Jason needs you. That child is hurting, and you might be the only one who can help him.” Maida must not have wanted to risk telling Alex, and his finding some other solution to her absence. She could only pray Maida was right.
“Why didn’t you tell me, then?”
Alex’s intense, dark stare seemed to pierce right through her, finding the vulnerabilities she longed to hide. She took a deep breath, trying to quell jittery nerves. She’d known it would be difficult to come back here. She just hadn’t anticipated how difficult. If Aunt Maida knew how hard this was for her—
No, she couldn’t let Maida know that. She’d agreed to do this thing, and she had to do it.
“I am telling you. I mean, now you know, don’t you?” She clenched her hands together, hoping he didn’t realize how much of her attitude was bravado. “Look, all I know is that she said she’d tell you. I thought it was all arranged. That’s why I’m here—” she gestured toward the scattered pots “—trying to fix dinner for you and Jason.”
Alex looked if it was the worst idea he’d ever heard. If he sent her packing, she’d never have a chance to make up for the mistakes she’d made the last time she was here.
“I can cook, you know,” she assured him. “I learned from the best.” Maida had insisted on giving her cooking lessons every time Paula came to visit.
“Of course you’re going to get an education and have a profession,” Maida would say. “But it never does any harm to know how to cook.”
He looked at her skeptically, and her doubts rose. Why was this so difficult?
Lord, if this really is the right thing to do, please let me know it.
“Dinner tonight isn’t important.” His voice was clipped. “I’ll take Jason out for a hamburger—he always welcomes that. As for the rest of it, I’ll make a decision later. You can go to the hospital to see Maida. Tell her I’ll be there tomorrow.”
She nodded, trying not to react to his tone. As heir to the Caine family fortune, he’d probably been born with the commanding manner that assumed compliance with his orders. The quality never failed to irritate Paula, but Alex had a right to make his own decisions about his staff. And if she did work for him, he’d also have a perfect right to give her orders and expect obedience.
Seeming to consider the matter settled, Alex turned toward the front of the house.
She wanted to let him go, because his disturbing presence upset her equilibrium and made her silly heart flutter. But she couldn’t. There was too much yet to be settled. She had to convince him that she was the right person for this job.
She caught up with him at the swinging door marking the boundary between the family’s part of the mansion and the servants’ section.
“Alex—” She put her hand on his arm to stop him, and was instantly sorry. Through the silky broadcloth of his shirt, his skin warmed to her touch. He wore the dress shirt and tie that was part of his usual attire, but the sleeves were turned back at the wrists, exposing a gold watchband that gleamed against his skin.
She pulled her gaze from his hands, fighting for balance, and focused on his face, instead. It didn’t help. He bore lines he hadn’t two years ago, and the narrow scar that crossed his cheekbone added an attractively dangerous look to his even, classic features.
She snatched her hand away. “I mean, Mr. Caine.” She felt her cheeks flushing. Observing the proprieties might help keep things businesslike between them. It might prevent a recurrence of what happened two years ago.
He stopped, looking down at her, his dark eyes unreadable beneath winged brows. Then he shook his head.
“You’ve been calling me Alex since the first time you came here. You were only about Jason’s age.”
She nodded, deflected by memories of the past. At least Alex seemed able to put his antagonism aside for the moment and remember a more peaceful time. That had to be a good sign.
“I was eight. And homesick as could be. You showed me where the children’s books were in the library and told me to help myself.”
She’d been awestruck when Alex Caine, only child of the town’s richest man and the prince in the Caine castle, had made the effort to be kind to her. She’d felt like Cinderella when he’d led her into the elegant room lined with books and shown her the window seat next to the fireplace where she could curl up and read. Not that she’d ever done it when there was a chance his formidable father might find her.
“So we’re old friends.” The smile that came too rarely lit his lean face, causing an uncomfortable flutter somewhere in the vicinity of her heart. “Alex will do.”
“Alex,” she repeated, trying not to linger on his name. “You know how stubborn Aunt Maida can be. I’m sure she was just doing what she thought would cause the least trouble. If she could have delayed the surgery, she would have, but the doctor insisted.”
She wanted to say the words that would convince him to let her stay, but she couldn’t find them. Instead, she swung back to her worries about Maida.
“She told me Dr. Overton retired. Someone else took over his practice.”
“You can have confidence in Brett Elliot,” he said promptly, apparently reading her concern. “He’s an excellent doctor, and I’m sure he’s recommended the best surgeon.” A hint of a smile touched his lips again. “And I’m not saying that because Brett’s an old friend.”
She suddenly saw herself as a child, peering from the housekeeper’s cottage toward the swimming pool. A teenage Alex entertained two other boys: Mitch Donovan and Brett Elliot, his closest friends.
“Aunt Maida seems to trust him. That’s the important thing.”
He nodded, hand on the door. She could sense the impatience in him, as if he wanted to be elsewhere, as if only his deeply ingrained politeness kept him standing there.
She probably should let this go, but she couldn’t. She took a breath. “I know Aunt Maida’s suggestion has put you on the spot. But it really would ease her mind if she knew I was staying.”
She knew instantly she’d pressed too hard. He seemed to withdraw, putting distance between them even though he hadn’t moved. His face set in bleak lines.
Alex had never looked that way when she was growing up. He’d always been surrounded by a golden aura nothing could diminish. But that had been before his wife left, before he’d spent too many weeks in that hospital himself.
“Let’s get the immediate situation taken care of first,” he said. “You settle Maida at the hospital. If she needs anything, she just has to ask.”
“I know that. I’m sure Maida does, too.” She tried to deny a wave of resentment that he could so easily grant any wish of her aunt’s, while she couldn’t.
He clasped her hand, sending a surge of warmth along her skin and stealing her breath. Then he dropped it as abruptly as if he’d felt that heat.
“Maida will be glad to have you with her for the operation. I know how much she enjoyed it when you worked here.”
He almost seemed to stumble over the words, as if he found this situation as awkward as she did. It surprised her. Smooth, sophisticated Alex had never been at a loss for the right phrase. That ability was something else the upper crust seemed to be born with.
All the things she didn’t want to say about the time she worked in the Caine mansion skittered through her mind. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to remind him that his son already knew her. “I appreciated the chance to take care of Jason. How is he?”
“Fine.” His face seemed to stiffen again. “Looking forward to summer vacation after the rigors of second grade.”
She had the sense of something suppressed, something he didn’t want to say about his son, and thought again of Aunt Maida’s worries about the boy.
“He used to be such a happy child. But his mother went away, and then Alex was in the accident and in the hospital all those weeks. Jason’s changed. He’s all curled up inside himself, and I don’t know how to help him.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing him.” She tried to keep the words casual. “Does he really want a fast-food burger, or did you just make that up?”
“Believe it or not, he does. Maida and I try to educate his palate, but he’s very much a seven-year-old in his tastes.” The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled. “I think you gave him his first trip to get fast food when you took care of him, didn’t you?”
“I’m afraid so.” She remembered it as if it were yesterday. Jason’s excitement at ordering from the counter, the awed look on his face as he sat across from her in the booth. The feelings that welled up at how much he resembled his father. That emotion struck her again, as strong as if someone had hit her.
Lord, what’s happening to me? I thought I was over this.
Alex’s dark, intent gaze penetrated the barrier she’d so carefully erected to shield her errant emotions. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She looked up and summoned a smile that felt tight on her lips. “Everything’s okay.”
She’d like to convince him. She’d like to convince herself. Alex couldn’t know that, thanks to the accident, for nearly two years she hadn’t been able to remember the crash or the months that had preceded it.
He didn’t know that the memories of the time she’d spent in this house had fallen out of the hidden recesses of her mind a week ago, as fresh and as emotional as if they’d happened yesterday.
And prominent among them was the fact that the last time she was here, she’d fallen in love with Alex Caine.
Chapter Two
“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.
Chapter Three
A lex hadn’t hired her, and maybe he wouldn’t. But she couldn’t just let things go. Paula pulled into the garage late that afternoon, aware of how pitiful her junker looked in the cavernous building. Aunt Maida was still groggy from the successful surgery, but she’d soon be well enough to demand a report. Paula had to be able to reassure her.
She walked quickly to the back door of the mansion. A small bicycle leaned against the laundry room door, reminding her of Jason and the matches. She should have told Alex, but their conversation had veered off in another direction entirely, and she hadn’t found the words. Maybe she still hadn’t.
Even the geranium on the kitchen window sill seemed to droop in Maida’s absence. Breakfast dishes, stacked in the sink, made it clear that when Alex said he’d fix breakfast for himself and Jason, he hadn’t considered cleaning up. She turned the water on. It wasn’t her job. Alex hadn’t hired her. But Maida’s kitchen had always been spotless, and she couldn’t leave it this way.
This was for Maida, she told herself, plunging her hands into hot, sudsy water. Not for Alex.
She’d been angry at Alex’s implications about the housekeeper position, but she’d been just as guilty of thinking Maida’s job less important than her own. Now it was the job she needed and wanted to fill—if only she could erase the memory of Alex’s kiss.
Enough. She concentrated on rubbing each piece of the sterling flatware. She’d come here to make up for the past by helping Jason through this difficult time. That was all.
She heard the door swing behind her and turned. Jason stood staring at her. For a moment he didn’t move. Then he came toward her slowly. He stopped a few feet away.
“I came to say I’m sorry.”
“Are you, Jason?” Was it regret or good manners that brought him here? Maybe it didn’t really matter. At least he was talking. That was better than silence.
“I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” A quiver of apprehension crossed his face. “Did you tell my dad?”
“No.” She pulled out a chair at the pine kitchen table. “I think Maida has some lemonade in the refrigerator. Want a glass?”
He nodded a little stiffly. “That would be nice.”
He was like his father, in manner as well as in looks, she thought as she poured two glasses of lemonade. Same dark hair and eyes, same well-defined bone structure, same strict courtesy.
He didn’t have the stiff upper lip to his father’s degree of perfection, though. He watched her apprehensively as she sat down across from him.
“I don’t want to tell him.” The words surprised her. Surely she should—but if she did, she’d never get beyond the barrier Jason seemed to have erected against the world. “I think you should, though. It’s pretty serious stuff. You could have gotten hurt.”
“I won’t do it again.” Dark eyes pleaded with her. “Promise you won’t say anything. I won’t do it again, honest.”
She studied his expression. Even at seven or eight, a lot of kids had figured out how to tell adults what they wanted to hear, instead of the truth. But Jason seemed genuinely dismayed at the result of his actions.
She took a deep breath. Let me make the right decision. Please.
“Okay, Jason. If you promise you won’t do it again, I promise I won’t tell.”
His relieved smile was the first one she’d seen from him. Like his father, she thought again. A smile that rare made you want to forgive anything, just to see it.
Jason didn’t seem to have inherited any qualities from his mother. Did he miss her and wonder why she’d disappeared? Maybe by now he’d made peace with his loss.
She watched as he gulped the lemonade. Guilt seemed to have made him thirsty. Finally he set the glass down, looking at it, not at her.
“Is Maida really going to come back?”
The question startled her. “Sure she is. Why do you think she wouldn’t?”
“I heard Daddy talking.” He fixed her with an intent gaze. “He told me she just needed to rest a while, but I heard him tell somebody on the phone that she was in the hospital. Is she going to stay there?”
Never lie to a child; that was one of her bedrock beliefs as a teacher. If something was going to hurt, going to be unpleasant, a child had the same right as an adult to prepare for it.
“Only for a little while,” she said carefully, remembering Alex’s determination to shield his son. “She had to go into the hospital to have her hip fixed.”
His face clouded. “I don’t want her to stay there. Can’t Dr. Brett just give her some medicine?”
The bereft tone touched her. “I know you don’t want her to be away, but medicine won’t fix what’s wrong. She had to have an operation, and they gave her a brand-new joint. Now she has to stay at the hospital and do exercises until she’s better.”
“Like my dad does for his leg?”
“Sort of like that.” She seemed to see Alex again in the workout clothes he’d worn that morning, and her mouth went dry. “Then when she’s well, she’ll be able to come back.”
His gaze met hers, and she read a challenge in it. “You didn’t come back. Not for a long time.”
It was like a blow to the heart. Jason was talking about when she’d been his nanny. Maybe, underneath the words, he was thinking about his mother, too.
She longed to put her hand over his where it lay on the table, but he was such a prickly child that she was afraid of making him withdraw. She prayed for the right words.
“I want you to listen, Jason, because I’m telling you the truth. Maida loves you. If she could have skipped the operation to stay with you, she would have. She’s going to come back, and in the meantime, you’ll be okay.”
“Are you going to stay?” His lips trembled. “Are you? I know I said I wanted you to go away, but I didn’t mean it. I want you to stay.”
Guilt gripped her throat in a vise so tight she couldn’t speak. She’d asked God to show her what to do. Was this His answer, in the voice of a troubled little boy?
She cleared her throat. “I’m not sure, Jason. But I’m going to talk to your daddy about it.”
“When?” Urgency filled his voice. “When?”
Somehow, whatever it took, she had to convince Alex to let her stay. She stood. “Right now.”
Alex had been trying to concentrate on work for the past half-hour, but all he could think about was how he’d manage the coming weeks. His business, his family, his home were too intertwined to separate.
He didn’t have any illusions that it would be easy to replace Maida. First of all, no one could really replace her. She was the closest thing to a mother Jason had.
Tension radiated down his spine. Jason had had enough losses in his young life. It was up to his father to protect him from any more.
It was also up to his father to provide for his future. If this deal with Dieter Industries didn’t go through, and soon, the Caine company would be on the verge of collapse. Their hand-crafted furniture would go the way of the lumber mills founded by his great-grandfather. Probably not even his private fortune could save it. Several hundred people would be out of work, thanks to Caine Industries’s failure.
He didn’t have the luxury of time. Dieter was sending someone over within weeks. Alex had to be ready, or they all lost.
He glanced up at the portrait of his father that hung over the library’s tile fireplace. Jonathan Caine stared sternly from the heavy gold frame, as if he mentally weighed and measured everyone he saw and found them wanting. He would no more understand the firm’s current crisis than he’d be able to admit that his mistakes had led to it.
His father’s stroke and death, coming when he heard the news of the crash, had seemed the knockout blow. But Alex had found out, once he took over, just how badly off the company was. And he’d realized there were still blows to come. He’d spent the past two years trying to solve the company’s problems, and he still didn’t know if he could succeed.
This was getting him nowhere. Alex walked to the floor-length window and looked down at the town—his town. He knew every inch of its steep narrow streets, folded into the cleft of the mountains. Sometimes he thought he knew every soul in town.
Caines had taken care of Bedford Creek since the first Caine, a railroad baron, had built his mansion on the hill in the decade after the Civil War. Bedford Creek had two economic bases: its scenic beauty and Caine Industries. If the corporation went under, how would the town survive? How would he?
The rap on the door was tentative. Then it came again, stronger this time. He crossed the room with impatient steps and opened the door.
“Paula.” That jolt to his solar plexus each time he saw her ought to be getting familiar by now. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t a good time.”
“This is important.”
What was one more disruption to his day? He wasn’t getting anything accomplished, anyway. He stepped back, gesturing her in.
“Is something wrong?”
She swung to face him. “Have you made a decision about hiring someone to replace my aunt?”
He motioned to a chair, but she shook her head, planting herself in the center of the oriental carpet and looking at him.
“Not yet,” he admitted. “Summer is tourist season in Bedford Creek. Everyone who wants a job is probably already working.”
He couldn’t deny the fact that Maida had been right about one thing. Paula could be the answer to his problems. But the uncomfortable ending to her previous stay, his own mixed feelings for her, made that impossible. He couldn’t seem to get past that.
“You have to have someone Jason can get along with.” She hesitated. “I couldn’t help thinking that he’s changed.”
He stiffened. “My son is fine.” Fine, he repeated silently.
“He seems to believe you’re disappointed in his school work.”
Her clear, candid gaze bored into him. “He misunderstood,” he said shortly. “Jason is very bright.” He glared at her, daring her to disagree.
“Yes, of course he is. But that doesn’t mean school is easy for him.”
“Paula, I don’t want to discuss my son with you. Jason is fine. Now, is there anything else?”
She looked at him for what felt like a long moment, and he couldn’t tell what was going on behind her usually expressive face. Then her eyes flickered.
“Just one thing. You should hire me to fill in until Maida is well again.”
Paula’s heart pounded in her ears. She hadn’t intended to blurt it out like that. She’d thought she’d lead up to it, present her arguments rationally. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem able to think in any sensible manner when she was around Alex.
That in itself was a good reason to run the other direction. “You didn’t come back, not for a long time.” Jason’s plaintive voice echoed in her mind. No, she couldn’t let him down. He needed someone, and she was the one he wanted right now.
Alex wasn’t answering, and that fact jacked up her tension level. He was probably trying to find a polite way to tell her he’d rather hire anyone else but her.
He walked to the other side of the long library table he used as a desk. It was littered with papers, and supported an elaborate computer system. Maybe he wanted to put some space between them, or maybe he was emphasizing the fact that this was his office, his house, his decision.
But there, beyond him, was the window seat where she’d curled up as a child. There, on the lowest shelf, were the storybooks she’d read. She had a place here, too.
He looked at her, a frown sending three vertical lines between his dark brows. “Are you sure this is something you want to do?”
She took a breath. At least he hadn’t started with “no.” Maybe he was willing to consider it. “Jason knows me, and Aunt Maida would feel better. I’m sure she’d call me five times a day from the hospital if the doctor would let her, just to be sure everything is all right.”
“That’s not what I asked.” His gaze probed beneath the surface. “How do you feel about it, Paula?”
How did she feel about it? Mixed emotions—that was probably the best way to describe it. But Alex didn’t need to know that. “I want the job. I think I can do it, although I don’t have much experience.” She remembered Aunt Maida’s concerns, and plunged on. “I know you have some important entertaining coming up in the next month. If you’re worried about that…”
What could she say? She couldn’t claim expertise she didn’t have. She’d never put on a fancy party in her life, and she didn’t think her usual brand of entertaining was what Alex was used to. He’d probably never ordered in pizza for guests.
“I’m not.” He glanced toward the portrait above the mantel, then away. “It’s important, of course, but I’ll hire a caterer for that, in any event. Maida’s job would be to oversee the staff.”
It sounded like a breeze compared to the elaborate cooking she’d been imagining. If someone else was doing the work, she ought to be able to manage a simple dinner party. “I think I could do that.”
His gaze assessed her, and she stiffened. Maybe she hadn’t lived all her life in a mansion, but she was smart enough to work her way through college. How hard could this be in comparison?
“Actually, that’s not my concern at the moment.” He looked impossibly remote, as if he viewed her through the wrong end of a telescope. “I want to know how you feel about working for me again, after what happened the last time you were here.”
It was like a blow to the stomach, rocking her back on her heels. She hadn’t dreamed he’d refer to it, had assumed he’d ignore what he probably saw as an unpleasant episode. Or that he’d forgotten it.
“That’s all in the past,” she said with as much firmness as she could manage. “You apologized. You said we’d pretend it never happened.” He’d done a very good job of that, as she knew only too well. The humiliation she’d felt when he’d said those words brought a stinging wave of color to her cheeks. “Why are you bringing it up now?”
“Because I don’t want it hanging between us,” he said. “I don’t want you to spend your time here worrying that I’ll make the same mistake again.”
A mistake, that’s what it was to him. A moment of weakness when the moonlight had tricked him into a brief, romantic gesture he later regretted. Well, he was never going to know it meant any more than that to her.
“Please, forget about it.” She forced herself to keep her voice steady and unconcerned. “I already have.”
She had, of course. For nearly two years she’d forgotten it entirely. Maybe she’d have been better off if she’d never remembered. But just a week ago, the memory had popped out from behind the locked door in her mind. The doctors couldn’t explain why. They’d said she could remember any time, or never.
She swallowed hard. What else might be hiding there? She still didn’t remember anything about those moments when the plane went down. Would she suddenly find herself reliving every painful second of the crash?
“Good.” He was briskly businesslike. “In that case, we can start with a clean slate between us. If you’re really willing to take on this position, it seems to be the best solution for everyone.”
She tried to smile. Position was a fancy word for it. She was about to become an employee in his house. And she’d have to do it without ever letting him know how she felt about him.
“The best solution for everyone,” she echoed. “We couldn’t ask for better than that.”
She had to find a way to keep her relationship with Alex businesslike—pleasant, but businesslike. She was just another employee to him, and as far as she was concerned, this was just another job. It was no different than if she’d been filing paperwork in someone’s office.
Well, maybe a little different. If she were filing papers, she wouldn’t be working for someone who tied her heart in knots.
Chapter Four
P aula put the carafe of coffee on a tray and glanced at the schedule Maida had taped to the kitchen cabinet, tension dancing along her nerves. Okay, so far she was on target, although it had probably taken her twice as long as it would have taken Maida. It was a good thing she’d decided to get up early this morning, Paula thought as she headed through the swinging door to the front of the house and up the stairs. Next on the agenda was to take the coffee to Alex’s room.
The second-floor hallway was as big as the entire living room in the apartment she shared with another teacher back home. She pushed the thought away. If she let herself make comparisons like that, she’d be too intimidated to do her job.
She tapped first, then opened the heavy door—more English oak. She remembered Maida showing her around the mansion on an earlier visit, explaining how one of Alex’s ancestors had imported the paneling and brought artisans over from Germany to create the stained glass. Maida had been as proud as if it belonged to her.
“Paula, good.” Alex strode into the bedroom from the bath, still buttoning his shirt. He stopped, looking at her. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Nothing.” Nothing except that I didn’t anticipate how this much intimacy would affect me. She forced down the flutter in her stomach and lifted the tray slightly. “Where would you like this?”
Instead of telling her, he took the tray, his hands brushing hers briefly. Her skin seemed sensitized to his touch, reacting with awareness in every cell. For an instant his gaze held hers. Was there more than business-as-usual in his eyes? Before she could be sure, he turned away and set the tray on the mahogany bureau. He busied himself pouring out a cup of coffee, his back to her.
She’d like to beat a retreat back to the kitchen, but Maida had said Alex would give his daily orders now. Orders. Paula swallowed a lump of resentment. She didn’t take orders well; she never had. But she couldn’t argue with Alex the way she would have with her father or brothers. In this situation, he was the boss, just as he had been when she was Jason’s nanny. Their kiss hadn’t changed that.
She pulled a pad and pencil from her jeans pocket. She’d taken the precaution of coming prepared, and the sooner this was done, the sooner she could escape. But Alex didn’t seem to be in any hurry.
“Do you have some instructions for the day?” she prompted. Somehow “instructions” sounded fractionally better than “orders.”
He glanced toward her, the lines around his dark eyes crinkling a little as he gestured with his coffee cup. “Let me get some of this down first. Then I’ll be able to think.”
She nodded, glad he couldn’t know how dry her mouth felt at the moment. This was just too awkward—standing in Alex’s private sanctum, watching him drink his morning coffee, noticing the way his dark hair tumbled over his forehead before he’d smoothed it back for the day. But she didn’t have a choice.
She forced herself to stand still, glancing around the room to keep from staring at him. The heavy forest-green drapes and equally heavy mahogany furniture darkened the room, and the deep burgundy tones of the oriental carpet didn’t help to brighten it. The room looked like a period set, in a museum. In fact, it probably was a period piece, but in a private home. She doubted that the furniture had been changed in several generations.
Had Alex had a colorful little boy’s bedroom once, like Jason’s? She smiled at the thought. She’d have to ask Maida. Somehow the idea of Alex with a cowboy or astronaut bedspread made him seem more like a regular person, instead of the blue blood who always stood slightly apart from the crowd.
Alex’s cup clattered onto the tray, and he swung toward her. “Now, about the day’s schedule—” His tone was businesslike, and her image of a little-boy Alex vanished.
“You’ll need to see to Jason and the meals, of course. I won’t be home for lunch, but I expect him to have a balanced meal. I’m sure Maida’s talked to you about all that, hasn’t she?”
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