A Haven for Her Heart

by Susan Anne Mason

  The fact that his eyes drew hers like a magnet only increased her frustration. “I’m fine, now that I’m away from him.” However, the man’s vile words echoed in her mind, and she shuddered.

  “You’re cold. Here. Take this.”

  Before she could protest, Mr. Reed had removed his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Warmth enveloped her, along with the spicy scent of his aftershave.

  “Would you like to go back inside? Or perhaps I can see you home?”

  While part of her wanted to take him up on his offer, the other part didn’t quite trust him. It was too much of a coincidence that he was attending their fundraiser when only the other day he’d been trying to convince Ruth to sell her house. And just now he’d tried to dissuade Mr. Peterson from supporting their venture. She squared her shoulders. “Why are you here tonight, Mr. Reed? To discourage anyone who might wish to invest in our home?”

  The light left his eyes, and his gaze shifted to the sidewalk. He seemed to debate his answer before releasing a long breath. “It’s not a crime to make sure potential investors have all the facts. I’m merely bringing their attention to the concerns of the business owners in the area.” He gave an unapologetic shrug, the wind flapping his white shirtsleeves.

  She frowned. “What concerns?”

  He shifted from one foot to the other. “To be honest, Miss Rosetti, there’s a fear that your home might attract some . . . undesirable types. Ones who might hinder clients from frequenting the businesses in the neighborhood.”

  He seemed to be talking in riddles. “What sort of undesirable types?”

  A flush moved into his cheeks. “I don’t like to say the word in front of a lady.”

  She frowned. “You mean streetwalkers?”

  He nodded.

  “That’s the most narrow-minded, judgmental—” She inhaled sharply in an attempt to gain control of her emotions. “We intend to run a very respectable establishment, Mr. Reed, no matter who frequents our doorstep. We will provide women in need with a place of refuge, no matter their circumstances, until they’re back on their feet with a plan for their future.”

  “Are you speaking from experience?” he asked softly.

  She froze, every muscle tensing. Had he been looking into her background? Trying to find something to use against them? She fought to keep her expression neutral as she recalled the answers Ruth had made her practice. “As you no doubt heard Mrs. Bennington explain, I . . . fell on hard times recently, and Ruth was kind enough to offer me a place to stay.”

  He studied her, his blue eyes darkening. “So you decided to extend her kindness to other troubled women?”

  She couldn’t tell if he was mocking her or was genuinely interested. “In a manner of speaking, yes. We both have our own reasons for wanting to do this. Reasons that don’t concern you.” She turned on her heel and headed toward the hotel entrance.

  “Miss Rosetti, wait. I didn’t mean to pry. I’m honestly trying to understand what’s behind this venture.” His long strides brought him up beside her.

  Once inside the lobby, she came to a halt. Then she removed his jacket and handed it back to him. “If you really want to know what we’re all about, Mr. Reed, I challenge you to leave your preconceived notions behind and come see our operation with an open mind. Perhaps you’ll learn something if you do.”

  He stood, staring, an expression of admiration creeping over his face.

  A surge of power rushed through her. For once, she’d stood up for something she believed in, and amazingly enough, someone had actually listened.

  “And when you report back to your employer, Mr. Reed, I hope you’ll make him understand once and for all that Bennington Place is not for sale.”

  9

  Darius walked through the reception area of Walcott Industries, heading directly toward his office. The meeting with a potential client had not gone the way he’d envisioned at all. He’d thought he had the deal for a property on Bay Street wrapped up, but now the owner seemed to be wavering. Darius sensed that someone else might be making a more lucrative offer. Unless he could figure out who his competition was and what they were proposing, he wouldn’t know how to make the proper counteroffer.

  On top of that disappointment, his conversation with Miss Rosetti from two nights ago had left him strangely unsettled. Her insinuation that he had some sort of misguided bias against the maternity home grated on him.

  “If you really want to know what we’re all about, I challenge you to leave your preconceived notions behind and come see our operation with an open mind. Perhaps you’ll learn something if you do.”

  He snorted. Why did her low opinion of him rankle so much?

  Scowling, he shoved the key into his office door. With a bit more force than necessary, he tossed his briefcase on the desktop. The only good thing about today was that Mr. Walcott was out for the afternoon. Darius’s report on the Bay Street property could wait until tomorrow.

  A familiar laugh echoed down the hallway, breaking through his thoughts. Darius froze, his shoulders instantly tensing.

  What was Meredith doing here? He searched his memory for some plans they might have made but couldn’t recall anything.

  He headed toward Kevin’s office, where the sound of voices coming from the open door made him pause.

  “Why, Mr. Caldwell, I think you’ve missed your calling in life.” Meredith’s laughter tinkled out. “You should be on stage as an entertainer.”

  Kevin’s throaty chuckle followed. “You’re too kind, Miss Cheeseman. I’m happy I could keep you amused while you wait. Though if I were Darius, I’d never leave such a lovely woman alone for long.”

  Darius peered around the doorway. Meredith was seated on the corner of Kevin’s desk, beaming a smile at him. In her matching yellow dress and hat, she resembled a living ray of sunshine. Kevin stared up at her with a besotted look on his face, oblivious to Darius’s presence.

  What was he up to? Kevin knew Darius was courting Meredith. So why would he home in on Darius’s territory?

  A prickle of irritation itched the back of his neck, but he schooled his features into a pleasant expression before entering the room. “I thought I heard a familiar voice. Meredith, you didn’t tell me you were dropping by today.”

  Her eyes went wide as she jumped to her feet. “Darius, there you are.”

  Kevin shoved his seat back and rose, a deep flush invading his cheeks.

  “I was about to give up on you.” Meredith smoothed her dress. “Mr. Caldwell was kind enough to keep me company until you returned.”

  “So I see.” Darius shot Kevin a look. “Thank you, Kevin. I believe I can take it from here.”

  The man had the grace to look sheepish. “Yes, sir. It was a pleasure, Miss Cheeseman.”

  “Likewise. I hope to see you again, Mr. Caldwell.” With a flick of her sleek blond curls, Meredith sailed out the door.

  Darius followed her into his office. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit, Meredith?”

  Her poise seemingly back in place, she graced him with a coquettish smile as she came over to straighten his lapel, a tiny gesture that hinted at an intimacy Darius found reassuring. Maybe he’d misinterpreted the flirting between her and Kevin. Then again, flirting seemed to be as natural as breathing to Meredith.

  “I came to invite you to dinner tonight. Mama and Daddy insist.” She pouted. “You always have an excuse, but—”

  “I’d love to come to dinner.”

  Her brows arched. “You would?”

  “It happens I have a free evening.”

  The Cheesemans usually dined later than his own family. If he left the office soon, he could spend a couple of hours with Sofia before heading out. Then he wouldn’t have to feel guilty for another night away from his daughter.

  “Wonderful.” Meredith clapped her hands together, her attractive features brightening. “We’ll expect you at seven, then.”

  “Seven it is.”

  She rea
ched up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. The floral scent of her perfume enveloped him like a promise. “I’ll see you then, darling. And don’t be late. Daddy abhors tardiness.”

  Satisfaction spread through Darius’s chest as he watched her walk away. Meredith was beautiful and sophisticated, a true Toronto blue blood—exactly the type of woman he hoped to marry one day. With the prominent Cheeseman family behind them, Sofia would be accepted into all the right social circles—ones Darius could only dream of—guaranteeing his daughter the bright future she deserved.

  Perhaps if things between him and Meredith continued to blossom, he could give Sofia a new mother sooner than anticipated and get her away from her grandparents’ influence before his little girl became too ethnic for her own good.

  “Has any of the fundraising money started to come in yet?” Olivia asked Ruth as they washed the supper dishes. Two days had passed since the gala and they hadn’t spoken at any length about the event.

  “As a matter of fact, I received a few donations today.” Ruth placed a newly dried teacup in the cupboard. Though they had a cook to prepare the main meals and a maid to help with many other household chores, Ruth and Olivia often helped tidy the kitchen in the evenings. “I do wish we could have pinned the mayor down for an endorsement. I’m certain that once he gives us his backing, the floodgates will open and even more money will start pouring in.”

  “Is there a reason why he’s hesitating?”

  “I presume he’s waiting to see which way the wind blows, politically speaking. He wouldn’t want to alienate any potential voters.”

  Olivia scrubbed a pot with a brush. She’d never paid much attention to politics. Whenever Papà talked about it with her brothers, she usually tuned them out. But now that Olivia was starting her own nonprofit venture, she should probably learn as much as she could about the way the city operated.

  “Excuse me, Mrs. Bennington. There’s someone at the door.” Margaret appeared in the kitchen doorway. “It’s a woman, and she asked for you.”

  “Thank you, Margaret.” Ruth hastily dried her hands. “Olivia, you’d better come too in case it’s a potential new guest.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Ruth had started calling the women who stayed at Bennington Place guests, a lovely term that made Olivia think of a cozy hotel or inn.

  She followed Ruth down the hallway to the front entrance, where a young woman stood, suitcase in hand. Her loose-fitting dress did a poor job of concealing her expanded girth.

  “Good evening. I’m Ruth Bennington. And this is Olivia Rosetti.”

  “Hello.” The woman bit her lip, anxiety radiating from her. “I’m Nancy Holmes.”

  “Nice to meet you, Nancy. Won’t you come into the parlor so we can chat in comfort?”

  The woman followed them into the front room, where they took seats around the coffee table. Miss Holmes set her suitcase beside her chair and clutched her hands on her lap. Red-rimmed eyes darted nervously around the room.

  “Would you care for something to drink?” Olivia asked. “Tea or lemonade?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Olivia longed to give her a hug and tell her everything would be all right. But she didn’t dare yet, not until the woman felt more comfortable.

  “I read about your home in the newspaper,” Miss Holmes blurted out. “And I’d like to know how much it costs to stay here. I don’t have much money, but I could pay something.”

  “We don’t require compensation,” Ruth said in a soothing voice. “All we ask of the women staying here is that they help with the chores in any way they can.”

  Miss Holmes blinked. “Oh, I see.”

  She looked to be in her mid-twenties with plain features, her light-brown hair pinned back in a bun. Her gaze continued to bounce around the room.

  Olivia slid closer on the sofa. “How far along are you, Miss Holmes?”

  The woman’s gaze darted to Olivia’s face, then away. “Almost five months. And please call me Nancy.”

  “What about the baby’s father?” Ruth asked.

  Nancy’s features hardened. “He wants nothing to do with me. He doesn’t believe the baby is his.”

  Not an uncommon occurrence as Olivia was discovering. “I’m so sorry. But please know that you’re more than welcome to stay here if that’s what you decide.”

  Nancy’s whole frame slumped. “I have nowhere else to go. My father just returned from an extended business trip and told me I had to leave.”

  “I know what that’s like, believe me.” Olivia’s throat tightened as she forced away memories of her own father’s reaction. “You don’t have to worry, Nancy. You have a safe place with us.” Olivia’s chest warmed as it always did when she said those words. Words she only wished she could have heard.

  “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much that means.” Nancy’s voice broke.

  “Have you eaten dinner?” Ruth asked.

  The girl shook her head. “I’ve been sitting in the park for hours trying to figure out what to do.”

  “Then I’ll heat a plate for you while Olivia gets you settled in.” Ruth rose from her seat. “Welcome to Bennington Place, Nancy. I hope you’ll soon feel right at home.”

  Seated at the Cheesemans’ dining room table, Darius sipped from his water glass while discreetly studying the room. A magnificent room at that, with vaulted ceilings and an ornate chandelier hanging over the long mahogany table. Crystal, china, and silver graced the long expanse, with several vases of fresh flowers spaced evenly along the way.

  This was exactly the type of house Darius envisioned owning one day. Classy and elegant. Not filled with mismatched furniture and worn carpets.

  “It’s good to finally have a chance to speak with you, Mr. Reed.” Meredith’s mother, a tall, stylish woman with the same coloring as her daughter, pierced him with a shrewd gaze. “Meredith has told us wonderful things about you. And of course my husband knows you from your business dealings.”

  “I’m honored to meet you too, ma’am.” Darius set down his glass and shifted slightly on the plush chair.

  “So, tell us a little about yourself. How long have you lived in Toronto?”

  “All my life. My parents moved here before I was born.”

  “Ah. And what does your family do?”

  With effort, Darius held the woman’s gaze and did his best not to flinch, picturing his father’s grease-stained overalls and perpetually dirty fingernails. A mechanic’s lot in life, Papá always said. “My father owns his own business. My mother looks after my daughter while I’m at work and takes care of the family.” Had Meredith told her parents that he had a daughter? He ran a finger under his collar.

  “What type of business is your father in?” Mr. Cheeseman picked up his fork. “Property management like yourself?”

  “No, sir.” Darius hesitated. “He owns an auto repair shop.”

  Mr. Cheeseman’s hand stilled for a moment before he continued to cut his steak. “I imagine business must be brisk now that so many people have cars.”

  “Very much so.” Darius picked up his water and took a sip.

  “You should see Darius’s office at Walcott Industries, Mama,” Meredith jumped in. “It overlooks the whole downtown.”

  “How did you end up working for Mr. Walcott?” Mrs. Cheeseman peered at him over her wine glass.

  Darius tried not to squirm as he swallowed his last bite of steak. This felt more like a job interview than a friendly dinner. “I started in the mail room and worked my way up while taking business courses.”

  “Impressive. Are you still studying?” Mr. Cheeseman asked.

  “Yes, sir. I take a course at the university on Saturday mornings. It will take a while to earn my degree, but I will eventually do it.”

  “I admire a young man with ambition.” Mr. Cheeseman pointed a fork at him. “Judging by our dealings with your company, I know you’ll go far there.”

  “That’s my plan, sir.”
<
br />   “I understand you live with your parents at present.” Mrs. Cheeseman made it sound as though it were a sin not to have a place of his own.

  “A temporary arrangement, so my mother can watch Sofia while I work.”

  Why did Darius feel the purpose of this whole meal was for Mr. Cheeseman to convince his wife that Darius was worthy of their daughter? And why did he feel that he was failing most miserably?

  Meredith pushed away from the table. “Darling, I’d love to show you Mama’s gardens out back before we have dessert.” She held out a hand to him.

  “Good idea.” Mr. Cheeseman beamed. “It’s a lovely summer evening. And Marion’s roses are something to behold. We’ll have coffee and cake in the parlor when you’re ready.”

  Ignoring Mrs. Cheeseman’s disgruntled look, Darius followed Meredith through the house to a rear door that led to the garden.

  Once outside, Darius exhaled a long breath, grateful for the reprieve. What an incredible yard. Slightly outside the downtown core, this neighborhood allowed for larger expanses of lawn and beautiful landscaping. He had no doubt that despite Mr. Cheeseman giving his wife credit for the amazing floral display, a hired gardener was most likely responsible for its manicured upkeep.

  Meredith took his arm as they made their way along the flagstone path. “I’m sorry for all Mama’s questions,” she said. “I know Daddy will have a word with her while we’re out here. Hopefully she’ll be more hospitable when we return.”

  “That’s all right.” Darius smiled down at her. “It’s only natural to want to know more about the man who’s dating her daughter.”

  A gleam of interest lit her features. “And this is only natural too.” Without warning, she tugged him behind a tall cedar tree and kissed him smack on the lips. His pulse immediately thudded to life, but he quickly pulled away from her.

  What was she thinking? Her parents could be watching from any window.

  Meredith’s blue eyes swirled with a mixture of hurt and embarrassment. “Darius, don’t you find me attractive?”