Single with Children

He waved away the obvious concern, remembering that she had no car. “Oh, that’s no problem. You can take the station wagon. I prefer the truck, anyway.”

She almost visibly relaxed. “Well, that’s settled, then.”

He smiled and opened the newspaper again, but his mind just wasn’t on local news. “When’s dinner?”

“Any time now, I imagine. Beverly—uh, that is, Cook—said about six.”

Beverly, was it? Even the cook was on a first-name basis with the new nanny. He couldn’t remember that ever happening before. “Fine,” he said from behind his paper, uncertain why this was so difficult. He needed to draw her out, get to know her. He was getting nowhere fast this way, and yet he couldn’t seem to put that paper down. What would he say? What could he ask her without making her feel that he was interrogating her? To his relief, she took the matter out of his hands momentarily.

“Well,” she said, getting to her feet, “time to wash up. We can’t go to the dinner table with dirty hands and faces, now can we?”

Adam hummed noncommittally behind his paper as they exited the room. He heard one of the boys whine something about not getting soap in his eyes, and heard Laura’s low assurance that it wouldn’t happen. Adam shook his head and put the paper aside. What was wrong with him? The woman was wonderful, just as he’d instinctively known she would be. He had nothing to fear, nothing at all, and yet…

“Dinner in ten minutes, Mr. Adam.”

He looked up at the quiet, efficient middle-aged woman who had been cooking his meals for the past eighteen months. “Thank you…Beverly.”

Her eyebrows flew up, and she paused in the act of drying her hands on her apron, and then she smiled, tentatively at first, and then with a blinding show of white dentures. “I’ll be leaving a little early this evening, sir, if that’s all right. My husband, he wants to see a movie, and Laura, she said she’d put the plates and flatware in the dishwasher for me. I’ll wash up everything else before I go…if I may.”

Adam nodded. “Certainly. Ah, tell me, what do you think of our Miss Laura?”

Beverly the Cook beamed. “Oh, she’s a treasure, that one! Took things right in hand, and do you know, I think she actually likes children? Why is it, do you suppose, that so many nannies don’t like children? You’d think they’d do something else, wouldn’t you?”

A very astute observation. Adam smiled. “Enjoy your movie.”

“Thank you. I will, and, um, Mr. Adam, sir, if I may say so, I think she’s just what those young ones need.”

Her eyes said something more, but he wasn’t very good at reading unspoken messages, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she was thinking, anyway. Man, planning war-game strategies and mass mobilizations had been a walk in the park, compared to this life he led now. But maybe it was going to change for the better now, temporarily, anyway. He frowned. Temporary just wasn’t good enough. He couldn’t be hiring a new nanny every two or three months. The children’s lives were continually overset by such changes, and one day—soon, please!—he was going to have a new career to dedicate himself to, not that his search for a compatible business had yielded much so far. He was feeling a new sense of pressure about that, too. His military retirement wouldn’t put children through college or allow the kind of upkeep on a home that winters in Minnesota required, especially as that home grew older. And he couldn’t just sit, day in and day out, perusing the newspaper. He put that aside for good just as Laura returned to the room.

“It’s ready,” she told him, crossing to the sofa.

He nodded and got up out of his chair at the very moment Laura sat down. “Aren’t you coming?”

She sent him a sheepish look. “I wasn’t sure what was…proper in my situation.”

“Well, it’s proper to eat,” he said blandly.

She stood, smoothing her hands over her bottom and the backs of her thighs, as if straightening a skirt. “I just wasn’t certain if I ought to be eating at the table with you and the children.”

In truth, several of the nannies had preferred to take their meals alone. Often, mealtime had been the only time they could get away from the children. He made a sudden decision not to tell Laura that, though. Maybe if they treated her like family she would stay longer. On the other hand, maybe he needed to find out more about her before he pushed her to stay. That, too, could be accomplished at the dinner table. He lifted an arm in invitation. “We’re pretty informal around here. Come on.”

She nodded and bit at her lower lip, and her head was bowed almost shyly as she stepped up next to him. His arm just seemed to sort of naturally curve around her, of its own volition. He didn’t remove it until they reached the dining room.

The kids were giggling when they came in—not a good sign. Sure enough, Robbie had reached into a bowl of mashed potatoes with his hand and was squishing the pulp between his fingers. Adam opened his mouth to snap an angry order, but something in Laura’s demeanor gave him second thoughts. He glanced sideways at her. She had drawn herself up tall and folded her long, slender arms. Her face was impassive, not censuring, not smiling, her gaze as steady as time. Robbie slowly pulled his hand back. Laura moved to the chair opposite him, pulled it out and sank down upon it gracefully, her gaze now studiously averted. Adam sensed a method behind her behavior and calmly copied her. Once carefully ensconced in the chair at the head of the table, he looked around, mentally noted the uncomfortable expression on Robbie’s face as he eyed his potato-encrusted hand and smiled at Laura.

“Would you serve the children, please?”

She sent him a look of approval, nodded and reached for the bowl of potatoes. “Wendy, would you care for potatoes?”

“Yes, please,” Wendy replied in a small voice, and Laura duly dispensed them.

“Ryan?”

Ryan crossed his eyes and waggled his tongue. “Yes, pwease!”

Laura smiled ever so slightly at his antics and spooned creamy potatoes onto his plate. She then turned to Robbie.

“Robbie, would you care for potatoes?”

Robbie nodded and bowed his head, frowning. Adam hid a grin, knowing that his scapegrace son was wondering how such a brilliant prank had turned into a embarrassment. Laura doled out the serving and set down the bowl. Utter silence followed, and then Adam heard the sound of sniffles. He looked at Robbie, whose head was practically in his plate now, then at Laura. Her expression of compassion for Robbie put a sudden lump in his throat. He had to look away.

“Adam,” Laura said quietly, “would you clean Robbie’s hand for him so he can eat?”

Brilliant. She was brilliant. Adam slipped out of his chair and knelt at Robbie’s side, using his napkin to clean Robbie’s little fist. “You know, Rob,” he said gently, “there are reasons for rules. Dining wouldn’t be a very pleasant exercise if everyone helped themselves with their hands, would it?”

Robbie shook his head. Adam followed instinct and patted the boy’s shoulder before moving back to his chair. Laura beamed as she reached for the dish of baked pork chops.

“Robbie, would you care for a pork chop, dear?”

Robbie wiped his nose on his wrist and nodded. Tacitly agreeing to overlook that little faux pas, Laura shared a tiny smile with Adam as she forked a chop onto Robbie’s plate.

Before long, the table was alive with the muted sounds of a pleasant family dinner, the most pleasant in memory, in fact. The giggles that erupted on occasion were not of the mischievous sort, but rather a happy sound. Adam marveled. It was only with effort that he remembered he had reason to question Laura, and only with effort that he found the means to do it.

“So tell me, Laura,” he began with costly aloofness, “what were you studying?”

“Studying?” she echoed blankly, and Adam thought, A-ha. His thoughts must have shown in his face, for she blanched, then recovered swiftly. “Oh, you mean what was I studying in college.”

“Yes. In college.”

She smiled grimly, concentrating her attention on what remained of her food. “Early childhood development.”

“Ah.” Perfect answer, but he’d already determined that she was brilliant.

“Although,” she went on hesitantly, “I hadn’t declared a major yet.”

“Um. When do you expect to return to school?”

She shrugged uncomfortably.

“In the fall?”

“Maybe,” she said. “Then again, I might want to start with summer school, sort of ease back into it, you know.”

Summer. He worked his frown into a smile. “Where were you thinking of going?”

She gulped. “I—I haven’t decided yet.”

He made an understanding sound, utterly convinced that she was lying to him. “Well, no rush,” he said.

She smiled. “Right. No rush.”

He steeled himself for the killing thrust. “Where did you go before?” She yanked her gaze up to meet his, and in the instant before she covered it, he saw what she hadn’t wanted him to see: fear.

“No place you’ve ever heard of,” she murmured.

“Out of state?” he asked pointedly.

She folded her napkin and laid it beside her plate. The gaze she leveled at him was implacable, unapologetic. “Yes,” she said flatly, pushing back her chair to stand. She swept the table with a look. “Excuse me.” Then she turned and left the room without another word.

Adam took a deep breath. She had lied to him, and she was afraid that he knew it, which he did. The question now was why, and what he was going to do about it.

“Bedtime, my lovelies.”

Adam looked at the crew on the couch and chuckled to himself. Bedtime, indeed. Not one of them could keep his or her eyes open. Laura’s change in the evening schedule had been a wise one. Instead of putting off baths until right before bedtime, she had played with the kids for a while after dinner, then bathed them early and cuddled them on the couch, reading. They had slipped, one by one, into a relaxed stupor. Bed undoubtedly seemed delicious right about now. Laura was urging first one and then another twin to his feet when the doorbell rang. Adam got up immediately to answer it, suspecting who would be stubborn enough to call at this time on a cold February night.

Sure enough, he opened the door to find his father flapping his arms on the stoop.

“Adam.”

“Father.”

It was the standard greeting.

Jake moved inside without waiting for an invitation and closed the door behind. “Frigid out there.”

“Some might even be inclined to stay inside,” Adam commented lightly.

“All right, all right, don’t give me any of your attitude. I have a couple of important reasons to be here.”

Adam knew very well what at least one of those reasons would be. He put his hands in the pockets of his pants. “What’s up?”

Jake grimaced. “It’s your sister.”

“Caroline?”

“No. Caroline’s fine.”

Adam was glad to hear it. “Married life seems to agree with her.”

Jake nodded and suddenly grinned. “Who’d have thought it? The career woman has definitely softened. I’ve never seen her so happy.”

At least you’ve finally noticed, Adam thought uncharitably. He said, “Well, that leaves three. Natalie’s the levelheaded one, so it must be one of the twins.”

Jake’s grin abruptly turned to a grimace. “Can we sit down?”

Adam could tell that Jake was genuinely concerned about something, so he led him across the hall to the living room. Laura was herding the kids down the hall toward them, and they brightened predictably at the sight of their grandfather. Instantly they were pelting after them and swarming over Jake the moment he dropped onto the sofa.

Adam squelched a flash of irritation as Jake patted and hugged his children. He was actually relieved when Laura appeared.

“Sorry,” she said.

“No, that’s all right. Laura, I’d like you to meet my father, Jacob Fortune.” Again Adam noted that the Fortune name meant nothing to Laura. Ever the gentleman, Jake stood. She stuck her hand out.

“Hello.”

“Dad, this is Laura Beaumont, our new nanny.”

Jake’s eyebrows went up at that, but he smiled almost flirtatiously at Laura as his big hand swallowed her delicate one.

“My pleasure.”

She smiled apologetically at Jake. “We were on our way to bed.”

“Oh, well…” Jake kissed each child in turn and sent them back to Laura.

“Thank you.”

She smiled at Adam as they exited the room. Jake watched with undisguised curiosity.

“She’s worlds more attractive than that Godiva creature,” he said, reclaiming his seat.

Adam had to laugh. “Yes, well, she’s that much and more a better nanny, too.”

“Truly?”

Adam nodded and wandered over and dropped onto a stiff chair. “She’s accomplished more with those kids in one day than Godiva and all the rest of them put together.”

Jake frowned. “You’ve never understood children.”

Adam gaped. “I’ve never understood—? You’re one to talk!”

“That isn’t fair, Adam. At least I tried—”

“I believe,” Adam said, interrupting firmly, “that you were going to tell me which of my sisters has done the unforgivable.”

Jake’s face turned red, but, to his credit, he gritted his teeth until his anger abated. “Rachel,” he said flatly.

Adam rolled his eyes. He should have known. “Look, Rocky has a right to live her life her own way. I knew you might not approve of Luke Greywolf, but he seems like a decent fellow to me. He’s a doctor, for pity’s sake!”

“She’s pregnant,” Jake told him. “Did you know she’s pregnant?”

Adam kept his face carefully impassive. “Good thing you’re a better grandfather than you were a—” He stopped, feeling the color drain from his face. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“Didn’t you?” Jake curled his hands into fists.

Adam sighed. “I know you’re worried about her,” he said placatingly, “but honestly, I don’t think you have to.”

“You know how careless she is,” Jake pointed out.

“Not careless,” Adam replied. “Adventurous, maybe, independent, definitely, but not careless.”

Jake made a face. “When I spoke with your mother she said that Rocky really loves him.”

“I’m sure she does,” Adam said, “or she wouldn’t have agreed to marry him, baby or no baby.”

“But what about him?” Jake’s voice rumbled dangerously. “That’s what I want to know.”

“Well,” Adam said, sliding his hands into his pockets once more, “I’d say you have to trust Rocky for that.” But Jake Fortune had a hard time trusting any of his children. Adam lifted a hand to the back of his neck. “Look, as independent and stubborn as Rocky is, do you honestly believe she’d settle for anyone who wasn’t absolutely wild for her?”

Jake looked up at him with something very near gratitude. “You’re right. Yes, you’re exactly right.” He sat back and smiled. “I hadn’t looked at it that way.”

Adam smiled to himself, feeling inordinately proud. Maybe there was hope for them, after all.

“Your mother wants to give them a party, sort of a family reception.”

Adam shook his head, grinning again. “Are we welcoming him or disemboweling him?”

Jake scowled. “Your mother means to welcome him, but frankly, I’m not sure it wouldn’t be the other way around, given the current climate.”

Adam folded his hands. “You’re talking about the Monica Malone thing now.”

Jake’s face instantly closed up. “The less said on that subject, the better.”

Adam shrugged. “Fine with me.”

“I only wish my brother and his crew agreed with you.”

“That’ll be the day.”

“I suppose so.”

Adam fingered the crease in his pants silently, sure they weren’t through. He didn’t have to wait long.

Jake drew himself up and put on a stern face. “Now,” he said, “when are you are going to give up this ridiculous search and come to work for the company?”

“Oops!” Adam shot up to his feet. “Time to go. Sorry you can’t stay longer, but for once I’d like to part without daggers drawn.”

“Damn it, Adam, I’m being serious!”

Adam swept a hand over his head. “Will you drop it? I don’t want to have this conversation again.”

Jake came to his feet. “Why can’t you see that you belong with the family company?”

“No.”

“Adam, please, I need you now. The cosmetics company is in dire need of leadership. You’re a natural. You could—”

“No! Damnation! Why do you always do this to me? I won’t step into the great maw of the Fortune companies!”

“Then just what are you going to do?” Jake demanded. “Sell cars? Install central heating?”

“No! I don’t know! But I’ll find something, something right for me.”

“But this job is right for you!”

“No!”

“Won’t you even hear me out?”

“No.”

Jake balled his hands into fists, obviously struggling with his temper. “I don’t understand you.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“You’ve never understood what being part of this family means.”

“It’s not the family,” Adam told him firmly. “It’s the family business that I want no part of.”

Jake looked to be gathering himself for a real explosion when Laura meekly interrupted.

“Can I get you gentlemen anything before I call it a night?”

Jake swallowed whatever he had been about to say and shook his head.

“My father was just leaving,” Adam said, pointedly but quietly. “Thank you anyway.”

“No problem. It was good to meet you, Mr. Fortune. Be careful out in that cold, won’t you?”

Jake nodded and buttoned up his coat. “Good evening, Miss Beaumont.” He started forward, then stopped and passed a look from Adam to Laura. “It is ‘Miss,’ isn’t it?”

Laura blinked, then blushed. “Yes.”

“I thought so,” he murmured. “A pleasure to meet you.” He sent a hard look at his son. “Adam.”

“Father.”

He stormed out of the room, muttering that he could see himself out.

Adam sighed. Would it never change? His gaze went almost involuntarily to Laura. Or had change already begun? She had certainly derailed a shouting match with her timely, gracious interruption. Had she meant to do just that? he wondered as she said good-night and slipped away. Yes, he believed she had. Now if only he could decide how he felt about that and just how important the truth about her was.

Three

Adam used a piece of toast to wipe up the last of the egg on his plate, popped it into his mouth, chewed, swallowed, and followed it with a mouthful of coffee, his pleasure evident. He touched his mouth with his napkin, then laid it on the table in the large, welcoming kitchen, where he sat with Laura.

“Tell me again why these are low-cholesterol eggs?”

Laura balanced her chin on an upturned palm, smiling. “It’s really very simple. Say you want to scramble a dozen eggs. You just whisk up nine egg whites and three whole eggs, add a drop or two of food coloring, heat a nonstick pan, put the eggs in and stir them around. It makes enough for us and the kids.”

“You put something else in these,” he accused teasingly.

She inclined her head. “You can add almost anything to them. I used some of the leftover mashed potatoes from last night—any are okay, as long as they’re already cooked—and some fat-free cheese I found in the refrigerator. It’s a real high-protein, low-fat, low-cholesterol breakfast, especially with toast and a little apple butter—which isn’t butter at all, actually.”

“So that’s how you keep that marvelous figure,” he said, eyes crinkling at the edges with his grin.

Laura felt heat sweep upward from her chest. For Pete’s sake! What was wrong with her? She’d been told that she had a nice figure before—but not by him. Dismayed at her own reaction to a simple compliment, she quickly averted her gaze. “Th-thank you. Uh, now, if you would stop by the grocer’s today and pick up some turkey bacon, we could have that, too.”

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and tossed it on the table, then got to his feet, shaking his head and reaching into his back pocket. “Not today. Sorry. But the roads are clear, so you might as well go and take the kids.” He opened his wallet and extracted a bill, which he thrust at her. “Get whatever you need.”

“Oh, no, it’s not…” Mechanically she glanced at that bill, and then she stared. “A hundred dollars! For turkey bacon?”

“For whatever you need,” he said, laying the bill beside her plate.

She looked up at him with her mouth hanging open. “You can’t go around handing out hundred-dollar bills like that!”

His mouth twitched and his eyebrows rose. “Oh? And why not?”

“It’s too much money!”

He shrugged. “So you have some left over for the next time you need something.”

She shook her head. “I don’t need anything, and if I did, I wouldn’t let you pay for it.”

“No? Okay, then use it for things the family needs, like turkey bacon.”

Laura gulped. “I don’t know if I should.”

He put his foot up on the seat of his chair and leaned over it, his arm crossed over his knee. “What’s the matter, Laura?” he asked lightly. “Can’t I trust you with cash? Is money some kind of great temptation for you?”

She knew then that it was a kind of test. He was willing to pay a hundred dollars to find out whether she was honest or not. In other words, he didn’t trust her, and that hurt more than it should have.

“I’ll give you an accounting,” she said softly, picking up the bill and folding it until it fit snugly in her palm.

He neither moved nor spoke for a long moment, and Laura kept her gaze stubbornly averted, not wanting him to see the sheen of disappointment in her eyes. Well, what had she expected? This whole thing had been an impulsive move on his part, and he would understandably regret that, given time to think about it. She shouldn’t be so bothered by it. She hadn’t been trusted by very many people in her life—and she knew better than to trust anyone else, especially with the truth. If he knew about her…

He took his foot down from the chair and straightened. “Look, you have to go into town anyway. Wendy’s school starts at nine, and I need to be in the office before then. Do you know where it is? The school, I mean.”

“Yeah, I think so. Anyway, I can find it. St. Cloud’s a pretty small town, after all.”

“Right. You can use the station wagon. We keep the boys’ car seats in it. I prefer to drive the truck, anyway. It’s four-wheel-drive.”

“Fine.” Laura nodded without looking up.

“You can drive, can’t you?” he asked, his voice teasingly light, and yet she knew he had reason for concern.

“Certainly. I had driver’s training in high school, and I’ve never had an accident or ticket of any kind.”

“How old are you, Laura?” he asked gently, surprising her into looking up and blurting the truth.

“Twenty-two.”

He smiled apologetically. “I knew you were young.”

She bit her lip, but she couldn’t keep from asking, “How old are you?”

He laughed, his eyes sparkling fondly. “Thirty-one.”

“That’s not exactly ancient.”

“No, it isn’t. To hear my father tell it, I’m practically a teenager still.”

She heard the faint tone of bitterness. There was definitely trouble there, and she hated fighting or discord of any kind, especially between family members. She remembered what she’d overheard the night before, and it occurred to her that she might owe Adam an apology. “Um, about last night… I wasn’t eavesdropping on your argument with your father. I was just coming down the hall, and I couldn’t help hearing.”

“Yeah, well, as to that,” he said lightly, withdrawing eye contact, “we always wind up shouting, and your timing was excellent. Thanks. You didn’t have to step in.”

“I didn’t mean to, actually,” she admitted. “I’m afraid I did it without thinking. I hate conflict, just hate it.”

“Well, conflict’s about all there is between me and Jake,” he said.

That was so sad to hear that the awfulness of it nearly choked her. She closed her eyes and whispered, “I never knew my father.”