Welcome To Corbin's Bend

by Thianna D

  “Okay.” Cadence stubbornly blinked back the tears. She managed a smile, tried to make it one of her brightest. “Couldn’t hurt but to try, right?”

  She got down off the exam table, evading his steadying hand when she wobbled, both knees screaming at the suddenness of having to take her full weight. They were going to scream even more during the long walk back home to Venia’s. Thirteen houses. It may as well be a thousand. How was she going to survive that distance?

  The same way she survived everything else. One step at a time, teeth gritted, eyes staring straight ahead.

  “Let me drive you—”

  Oh, she must really look feeble. She almost laughed, except that might have come out sounding bitter and that just smacked too close to weakness. “No, thanks,” she said tightly, forcing the cheerfulness as she limped toward the door. “I can walk.”

  He made another soft, puffing sound. The sort of sound a man made when he didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed. “It’s not a bother,” he called, trailing behind her.

  “Neither’s walking.” Stepping out onto the porch, she tried to close his front door behind her, but he caught it and followed her outside.

  Damn.

  Cadence kept her head up and struggling to control the limp, which hurt like hell, down each descending stair of those three stone steps.

  “Are you always this stubborn?” Marcus asked. She shot him a withering look over one shoulder. Arms folded across his chest, he had propped one broad shoulder against a front porch post while he watched her go. His eyes were sparkling. Apparently, he’d settled on amused over annoyed. Already one corner of his mouth was losing its fight with the smile he was trying halfheartedly to hide.

  That smile was her undoing. Her own annoyance erupted, surpassing all her best intentions to just leave and leave gracefully. “No, sir. As it so happens, this is my good girl behavior.”

  Just what every good employee ought to say to her boss. Shaking her head at herself, wishing she could just learn to bite her tongue, Cadence headed for home. She was mere steps from the end of the driveway when the doctor called out behind her, “How long are you ‘just visiting’ for, Miss Westmore?”

  “As long as I jolly-well feel like it, Dr. Devon!”

  “And if I hired you?” he called out.

  That stopped her. He had to be playing with her. He just had to be. Except that when she turned around, he had sauntered up the driveway after her, arms still folded across his chest, his dark eyes still dancing with all the amusement that he no longer bothered to hide.

  “Well?” he asked, not stopping until he was standing directly in front of her and they were face to face. “How long would you stay then?”

  He couldn’t possibly be hiring her. He…he just couldn’t.

  She stared at him, trying hard not to get her hopes up. “I would stay as long as I had a job.”

  They stared at each other then, in the wide open of his driveway with her clothes still soaking wet and his expression still amused, yet oddly closed. He considered her quietly and for so long that she almost turned and just started walking again.

  “Can you start tomorrow morning, seven o’clock?” he finally asked.

  Her heart faltered, stumbling in her chest. The resuming beat felt as hard as a physical blow.

  She was going to cry.

  Except Cadence never cried.

  She nodded once. Chin held high, both legs screaming in pain, she turned and walked away.

  He was out of his mind.

  Marcus watched the woman he’d just hired limp off down the road, and there was just no doubt about it, all the wrong parts of him had been involved in giving her the job. She was entirely wrong for the position. Of course, of the four women who had applied, she was the best interviewee, bar none. At barely eighteen and soon to be out of high school, Bethie Ann had been too young. Agnes Hasselhoff, at eighty-two, had been too old and, as Buddy had loudly proclaimed before Marcus sent them all outside to play, smelled funny. A few years younger than himself, Carla Methon was just fine age-wise, but she was less interested in the job than she was in Marcus himself. Two months ago, she’d been far more subtle about her seductress intentions. These days, just walking into the same room with her made him feel like a prize piece of meat on display. Carla was a lovely woman. He should have been flattered by her persistence, but he just…wasn’t.

  And now there was Cadence Westmore, the ‘unofficial’ daughter of Venia Varner, just down the street. He knew Venia. Had been friends with her for years now, practically from the moment he’d come to Corbin’s Bend.

  It would have been so much easier to say no to her, but then…that lift of her chin, that stubbornness, that sass…

  This is my good girl behavior…

  His palm had itched. For the first time in years, his palm had actually itched.

  That more than anything else—her physical limitations, her lack of experience—practically shouted that she was the wrong person for the job. The last thing he wanted was to be physically or, worse, intellectually attracted to his children’s nanny.

  Her good girl behavior.

  God help him.

  Marcus watched her go all the way down the street until she turned into Venia’s driveway and disappeared behind a shield of all the trees and shrubs between here and there. Despite her limp, there had been a truly beguiling swish to Cadence’s hips.

  Running his hands through his short dark hair, Marcus shook his head at himself. He’d just hired her. Beguiling or not, he couldn’t afford to think about her swishes.

  No longer able to see her and knowing he still had his son to deal with, Marcus turned and headed back inside.

  Chapter 5

  But you just got here!” Venia protested, as Cadence packed the last few toiletries into her meager duffel bag. “I can’t believe you’re leaving already.”

  “I can’t sleep on your couch forever,” Cadence replied. “Sooner or later, I’ve got to start being a responsible adult again.”

  Venia frowned “Oh, like you ever stopped.”

  “I’m only going thirteen houses down the street.”

  “Thirteen houses can be plenty far enough when you’re on your own and in over your head.”

  “You said he was a nice man,” Cadence pointed out.

  “Marcus is a wonderful doctor and a very nice man,” the older woman agreed. “But he’s also got three kids, Cady. Growing boys, young and full of energy. I just…I don’t want you to bite off more than you can chew.”

  “You’re the one who wanted me to go after this job! If you didn’t think I could do it—”

  “Oh, I know you can do it,” Venia huffed, with an impatient wave of one hand. “I just didn’t think you were going to leave so soon.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Cadence soothed. “And if I’m not, I’m only a few houses down. That’s not so far away that I can’t walk back in abject defeat.”

  Venia tsked at her. “Don’t make me get the big stick, because I am not so old that I don’t remember where I put it.” She held out her arms, but when Cadence moved in to hug her, it wasn’t Cadence doing the comforting. “You’ll be fine,” Venia said, rubbing her on the back. “In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never let anything defeat you.”

  Funny, as far as Cadence could tell, pretty much everything had defeated her to date. “I’m going to be late for work.”

  That was a lie, actually. It was a good fifteen minutes to seven o’clock. Even with her limp, it wasn’t going to take that long for her to walk to the Doctor’s house.

  “Want me to drive you?” Venia asked, then answered her own question in time with Cadence’s rejection. “Nope.” Venia held up her hands in surrender. “I know, I know. You’ll walk. Lord save me, you’re stubborn.”

  Hefting the duffle strap up over her shoulder, Cadence held up her hand to bid her Mama Venia goodbye, but an odd sound stopped her. Sounds, rather. Many sounds, sharp and slapping, and very quick
ly joined by muffled whimpering, then squeaking, then outright yelping. That sound was as shocking as it was unmistakable. Someone was getting hit.

  She turned around, her wide eyes following the wailing cries to the open window of Venia’s next door neighbor. She swung back to Venia, so shocked that at first she couldn’t make herself give voice to the incredible thought crashing through her head. “Is…is he…beating his wife? Should we call the police?”

  “Oh no, no!” Venia waved her hand, disregarding the notion with a laugh. “Never mind that. They’re, uh…” Venia glanced at what she could see of her neighbor’s house. “Well, they’re a little, um…kinky, I suppose you would say.”

  Cadence was appalled. “Can’t they do that with the window closed?” She lowered her voice when she said it, although for the life of her she didn’t know why. The neighbors obviously didn’t care who listened to them.

  Venia waved that off too. “I hardly hear them anymore. To each their own, right?” She came down off the porch, throwing open her arms for one last hug. “I miss you already,” she said with a sniffle and a smile.

  If Venia meant for the tears in her eyes to be the kick-starting distraction that got Cadence’s mind off the noisy neighbors and hurried her on down the road, then it worked. Cadence was almost halfway to Dr. Marcus Devon’s house before she got her own parting tears under control enough to realize what the older woman had done. By then, all she could do was tsk and shake her head at herself. It wasn’t as if she were moving half the world away, but maybe Venia was right: sometimes thirteen houses was plenty far enough.

  Had anyone accused Marcus of taking more care than usual in his morning dress, he’d have hotly denied it. They’d have been right, but he’d have denied it anyway.

  “Here she comes, Dad!” Daniel called from his post at the window by the front door.

  The scramble of little feet instantly responded from both the living room, where his eldest, Michael, promptly shut off the TV, and from the kitchen where Buddy dumped his breakfast dishes into the sink, before both boys came running.

  “Places,” Marcus announced, checking his hair one last time in the hall mirror before he assembled with his boys by the door. He pointed at them. “Best behavior,” he warned. “I mean it.”

  All three gazed up at him with solemn, wide, innocent-seeming eyes. Yeah, well…the devil had his angels too, and one would have to know his boys to truly understand how the jury might still be out on which way they all swung.

  He pointed at them again, just to make sure they saw how serious he was, but by then, he could hear the step-limp, step-limp as Cadence climbed the three porch steps. He could have opened the door sooner, extended a hand, offered support while she heaved herself that last step higher, but his brief visit with her yesterday had been plenty long enough to tell him exactly how that would have been received.

  There was an awful lot of pride in Cadence’s willowy frame. He could just see it now, the look she’d give his fingers, that heated flush that would pinken her high cheeks right before she lifted her chin, snubbing his attempt to help. That lift of her chin had haunted him for a ridiculously long time last night. He’d actually lain awake in his bed thinking about it. Well, that and the saucy tilt and swish of her hips as she’d limped away from him, determined to walk despite her obvious pain. Determined to do what she could, if she could, all for herself.

  God, he found that sexy. Admirable, too. Maybe just a little bit aggravating around the edges. A woman on her own ought to be self-reliant, and he’d never been drawn to the wilting flower sort. But at the same time, a woman ought to know when to lean on her man’s strong arm.

  Except that he wasn’t her man. Her boss, sure, but not her man. He barely knew a thing about her.

  Her good girl behavior.

  No four words in existence should have this much power to fire a man’s imagination. He’d been alone too long. That was it, in a nutshell. He’d been alone and he was bringing a young, beautiful woman into his house for the first time since Stacy. Well, that wasn’t true exactly. There had been Libby, but right from the start she had been unavailable, already attached at the heart to her young husband. That had to be the difference. He’d never once been tempted by Libby. But Cadence…?

  He’d bet his life she was submissive.

  …my good girl behavior…

  Last night, lying awake in his bed with a mind full of stubborn chin lifts, and sexy hip tilts, and a whole lot of ‘damn, but he knew better than this’ reservations, he’d still fantasized about all the possibilities that could be explored if he chose to cross the line she’d drawn in the proverbial sand using nothing but those four little words.

  “Do you want me to open it, Dad?”

  Marcus startled at Buddy’s hesitant tug at his arm just as a second set of knocks rapped the other side of the door. Oh yeah, he knew better than this, all right. But his heart still quickened and his palm still itched, and he still opened that door, affecting a friendly smile and a wave for her to come on in. “Good morning.”

  She was nervous, he could tell. Though she tried to hide it behind a smile, her eyes got wide when he moved aside and she drank in her first look of his boys.

  “Cadence,” he introduced, “these are my sons. Michael is ten.” He rested his hand on his eldest’s shoulder. “Daniel is nine.” He moved down the line, touching each boy in turn. “And this is Brody, my youngest. He’s six. We call him Buddy.”

  “Hello,” they said, nearly in unison. Michael and Daniel both extended their hands, offering her a smile and a shake.

  Not to be outdone, Buddy followed suit, but he was bouncing with the excitement this kind of newness brought to the family. “I put a flower on your pillow. So, there’s a flower on your pillow, if you’re wondering who put it there. Can we have macaroni for dinner?”

  “Oh, uh…”

  “I haven’t had a chance to talk to Cadence about menus yet,” Marcus smoothly interrupted. “She’s got a lot to do to get settled in now, and you boys are going to be late for school if you don’t hustle up. Lunches!” he called when the line of boys broke, scrambling for book bags and lunches.

  “Should I walk them?” Cadence asked, already preparing to go right back out the door and she hadn’t yet set her duffel bag down yet.

  Buddy came running back from the kitchen with his backpack on his shoulders and his lunch box. “She can hold my hand!”

  “They know where the bus stop is,” Marcus said, herding the boys toward the door. “Hold your brother’s hand,” he told the two oldest as they filed out past him.

  Bouncing out after them, Buddy thrust out both his hands and, rolling their eyes, each older boy took one.

  “Should I have come earlier?” Cadence asked as he closed the door behind them.

  “I have a feeling today is going to be hectic enough for you without adding our three-ring circus morning routine straight off the bat. Come on.” Marcus waved his hand, gesturing for her to proceed him past the stairs that led to the upstairs bedrooms, through the hall that bisected his home office from the waiting room, and into the back of the house where the kitchen and a second family room lay in its customary state of complete chaos.

  Marcus almost winced when he saw it. Bits of breakfast and breakfast dishes were scattered across the dining table and all the way to the kitchen sink. Toys littered the living room rug: footballs and blocks, broken crayons, an explosion of checker pieces and a Tickle-Me Elmo which had been thrown up on top of the high-backed entertainment center, probably because that was the highest point Michael and Daniel could reach that Buddy could not. Living in this every day, it took his standing beside Cadence, trying to see the mess through her eyes, before Marcus realized just how bad this all looked. He was mortified.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologized, bending to scoop up a discarded fork and a pair of Spiderman pajama bottoms on his way to pull out a dining chair for her to sit. He tried to choose the cleanest part of the table and hoped
she wouldn’t be too grossed out by the spilled milk, splatters of jelly and smattering of Cheerios, to want to touch it.

  “It’s fine,” she said, limping in to start clearing the table when he went into the kitchen in search of a cloth clean enough to attempt a wipe down.

  “No, no. Let me get it,” he said, when she brought the first armload of dishes to the sink.

  “Don’t be silly. This is what you’ve hired me for.”

  True. Funny, how that didn’t exactly ease his embarrassment. The urge to apologize remained overwhelming.

  “You’re not seeing us at our best,” he offered, before realizing with a start that the cloth he’d just pulled out of the drawer was actually a pair of his own underwear. For the love of… He quickly wadded it between his hands and stuffed it down into his trousers pocket.

  “Guess I won’t be misled, then.” She moved through his kitchen as if she’d been made for it. Which was ridiculous, since one kitchen was pretty much like any other and, as she had said in her interview, she did know how to clean a house. She’d probably cleaned her own many a time. Except, his brain only too enthusiastically supplied, this was not her house. This was his, and what she was doing now in his kitchen felt so incredibly…intimate.

  He watched Cadence rinse off the breakfast dishes and fish a small plastic dinosaur out of the disposal before turning it on.

  Yeah, this was intimate all right. He’d definitely been alone too long. Now he just felt awkward. He didn’t remember it being like this back when Libby had been cleaning his house.

  Backing out of the kitchen, Marcus ventured back down the hall to his office, digging through the slight stack of papers on his desk until he found the manila file folder he’d made for her last night. By the time he’d returned to the kitchen, she had the dishwasher full of dirty dishes and was washing down the kitchen table.

  “Sit down, please,” he said, taking his customary seat at the head of the table. “Before we get into this too far, I’d just like to go over a few household rules. I’m a big believer in everybody being on the same page right from the start.”