by Leanne Banks
Emma paused a half beat then continued.
“Why does she keep waking up screaming?” he asked, resting his hands on his hips, clearly perplexed.
Jiggling Emma, she stroked the baby’s back. “It’s not every night. She’s just still adjusting. I think she’ll calm down soon.”
“She has an appointment with the pediatrician soon. Maybe he can tell us something. I’ll want you to go to that appointment,” he said. “If I take her, she’ll just scream the whole time.”
“That’s fine. I’d like a few hours off tomorrow or the next day, though. I have some personal business to take care of.”
“No problem. Sarah will cover for you. I may need to hire someone part-time so you’ll have backup,” he said with a sigh.
“We can give her a little more time. With little ones, they can turn a corner before you know it.” Coco could feel Emma’s rigid frame start to relax against her. “Maybe she wouldn’t be so afraid of you in the dark. Come closer and see.”
“I did that earlier,” he said in a dry tone.
“But this is different. It’s dark and you’re not wearing your hat. Maybe—”
“Maybe not tonight,” he said firmly. “I don’t want to get her riled up again tonight. See you tomorrow,” he said and left the room.
Coco slid into the rocking chair with a sigh. She hated that Emma and Benjamin were so tense around each other. When she’d first accepted the position to take care of Emma, she’d thought Emma’s screaming when her daddy came close was just a phase. True, it had only been a few weeks, but it seemed as if the two of them were growing more tense with each other, instead of less. Benjamin wanted to avoid upsetting Emma, which gave them fewer opportunities to interact.
Coco wondered if she should just set Emma in his arms and leave so the two of them could work it out, but she knew that was probably her lack of sleep talking. She felt Emma’s sweet little body go limp with relaxation. The baby’s trust in her never failed to grab her heart. Rising, she returned Emma to her crib and went back to bed. This time, she fell asleep before her head hit the pillow.
Late the next morning, after Coco put Emma down for her morning nap, she dressed to go into town. Just as she descended the steps from the front porch, she saw a black Mercedes pulling toward the front of the house. Her stomach dipped. This was the same car that had brought the strange men who’d visited her two days ago.
Sweating, she glanced over her shoulder, praying that no one would see the visitors. Her heart pounding in her chest, she walked toward the vehicle as it stopped.
The man in the passenger seat opened the door and rose from the car. He was short with gray hair and squinty eyes. “Miss Jordan, my name is Paul Forno. I represent the House of Devereaux. My associate and I need to discuss an important matter with you.”
The House of Devereaux? Coco wasn’t sure if it was a fashion label or a collection agency. When the driver opened his car door, panic raced through her. “Listen, this is private property. This is also where I work.”
“Yes, ma’am. Please accept our apologies, but this is news that must be delivered in person. If you could give us a few moments of your time—”
“Not right now,” she said. “I’m on my way out.”
The man sighed. “As you wish, miss, but we don’t have a lot of time. Please accept my business card and call me at your earliest convenience,” he said and offered her the card.
Confused, but not wanting to show it, she gave a brisk nod, stuffed the card into her small purse and strode to her car. We don’t have a lot of time. What could that possibly mean? And who was we? Her hands shook as she stuck the key into the ignition of her five-year-old economy car. Looking in her rearview mirror, she felt a microbit of relief when she saw the black Mercedes pull away from the ranch.
Coco opened her car window and took several breaths. The men looked like the same kind who had frequented her mother’s home the last two months before she died. Her mother had fallen deeply in debt, and lenders had become impatient with her inability to pay her bills. Coco had helped as much as she could, but near the end she was only working part-time. Her mother’s care had required the rest of her time and energy.
She wondered if somehow she was responsible for some of her mother’s bills. She’d never cosigned loans, but she had used a credit card when they’d had an electrical problem and her car had needed an emergency repair. She’d thought she’d paid it off, but now she thought she needed to review her check register.
Her mind reeling, Coco drove off the property onto the highway into town. All the time, she wondered what she should do. She remembered a friend who had been a legal assistant. Maybe she could call her.
Reaching the small town of Silver City, she pulled alongside the town diner and got out of her car. She wanted a good cup of coffee or hot chocolate or hot apple cider and maybe a little sympathy from her friend Kim, a waitress at the diner. She’d known Kim back in high school, and Kim had since married and moved to Silver City. Coco and Kim had shared a meal when Coco had first come to town last month. Since then, Coco had dropped into the diner with Emma a couple times.
Coco walked inside the homey diner and the hostess immediately greeted her. “How are you doing, miss? Can I seat you?”
“Fine, thank you. Yes,” Coco said. “Please do. Just one.”
“We’ve got plenty of room. I’ll put you in a booth.”
As soon as Coco slid into the red booth, Kim Washburn winked and waved at her. Coco shot her a weak smile in return.
A couple moments later, Kim trotted to Coco’s table. “Where’s the little one today?” Kim asked.
“I finally got a couple hours off so I left her sleeping with Sarah at the ready to take over. I need to run some errands.”
“I would say so. You haven’t taken a break since you signed on for this gig, have you? What can I get you?”
“Hot chocolate,” she said. “Or apple cider.”
Kim laughed. “You want both?”
“No. I’ll take hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.”
Kim studied her thoughtfully. “Something wrong? Now that I think about it, you don’t look too happy.”
“Just distracted,” Coco said.
Kim shrugged her shoulders, but clearly didn’t believe her. “If you say so. But if you need some help, I’ll give it my best try,” she said, then headed for the kitchen area.
Coco bit her lip. She was so used to fending for herself that she almost didn’t know how to accept help when it was offered. Kim returned with a mug of hot chocolate overflowing with marshmallows.
Coco smiled. “Thanks. Can you keep something confidential?” she asked in a low voice.
“Sure, what is it?”
“I may need some legal advice,” Coco said reluctantly.
Kim’s eyes widened and she slid into the booth across from Coco. “Well, you’re not married, so you don’t need a divorce. I can’t believe you’ve committed any crimes.”
“It’s not that,” Coco said. “I just need to check on what happens to a person’s debts when they die. I need to know if I’m responsible for my mother’s debts.”
“Well, I can tell you that. As long as you didn’t cosign anything, you’re not responsible. How do I know? When my husband Hank’s parents died, they had a boatload of debt and none of the kids had to pay. Now the repo company took everything his parents owned and that meant no inheritance for the kids, but the kids did not have to pay.” She frowned. “Why are you worried?”
“These strange men have come to Benjamin Garner’s house. They remind me of the bill collectors who kept coming around when my mother was sick,” Coco said.
“Well, if they’re angling to get some money out of you, they’re just crooked. You should tell Benjamin. He’ll take care of them in no time.�
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“But he’s my employer. It would be embarrassing to have to tell him about this,” she said.
“If they keep coming around the house, he’s going to find out anyway. Better to nip it in the bud. And trust me, there’s no one better-suited to take care of someone trying to pull some sort of money scheme on you than Benjamin.” Kim thumped the table with her knuckles. “I gotta get back to work. Enjoy those marshmallows and talk to Benjamin.”
Coco stared at the marshmallows, her stomach churning at the prospect of discussing her mother’s debt issues with Benjamin.
* * *
“She’s okay as long as I bob up and down. I just hope it doesn’t make my fillings fall out. You’ll have a high dental bill if that happens,” Sarah warned Benjamin as she jiggled Emma.
Emma had spotted him and was throwing a hard glance at him. It amazed him that a kid under six months old could kill a man with her eyes. Maybe she was a chip off the old block after all. He turned to go to his office.
“Not so fast,” Sarah called. “The least you can do is come here and say hello to your daughter.”
“I’ll just make her cry,” he said.
“I’ll take that risk. You can’t run from your own child forever,” she said.
“I’m not running,” he said. “I just don’t see any need in upsetting her.”
Benjamin slowly walked toward Sarah and Emma. The baby glared at him like a gunfighter ready for action.
“Boo,” he said in a low voice.
Both Sarah and Emma gasped. “Why’d you do that? You’re just gonna scare her even more.”
Benjamin shrugged and walked closer. He lifted his hand to the sweet skin of the baby’s chubby arm. “Hey, Princess, sooner or later, you’ll realize that I’m gonna be around a long time. I can just tell you’re gonna give me hell till you figure that out.”
Emma frowned, but she didn’t cry. She shot him another hard look and stared at his hat.
“Does this bother you?” he asked, removing the hat from his head and extending the Stetson toward her. He thought about the sweet nanny he’d hired. At first sight of the woman, Benjamin had sensed a tender heart. “Coco said it might.”
Emma stared at the hat then at him and for one sliver of a second, he saw a softening in those intense blue eyes of his daughter.
The front door opened and Coco’s footsteps sounded in the foyer. He knew her step already. Benjamin automatically turned and Boomer limped to greet her. “Hey, boy,” he heard her say to the dog. Seconds later, she appeared, breathless, clearly a little concerned. “How was she?”
“Ah!” Emma said.
“She’s fine as long as I jump up and down,” Sarah said in a grumpy voice as Emma stretched her hands toward Coco. “Did you take care of your business?”
Coco’s gaze darkened, taking Emma into her arms. “Mostly, but I—uh—I’d appreciate it if I could maybe talk to you sometime soon,” she said to Benjamin.
Surprised, he shrugged. “No problem. Just let me know when. I’m in the office this afternoon and I have a cattlemen’s meeting tonight.”
Coco stared at him for a moment. “So when is a good time?”
He got an odd feeling in his gut at the expression on her face. He hoped this didn’t mean trouble. Benjamin didn’t need one more iota of trouble in his life. And he sure as hell didn’t need trouble from his daughter’s nanny. He’d hired the woman to alleviate his problems, not exacerbate them.
“I can see you up until six today or after nine tonight,” he told her.
She took a deep breath. “After nine. Emma will be in bed by then.”
He nodded and placed his hat back on his head. “Nine o’clock. Come to my office.”
“Can we, uh, meet in the den?” she asked, surprising him with the request.
He shrugged. “Okay. See you at nine. I’ve got work to do,” he said and walked away.
* * *
That night, just before 9:00 p.m., Emma fell asleep with no struggle. Coco set the baby on her back in her crib. Emma was totally relaxed and Coco had a feeling the baby might sleep through the whole night. She quietly walked from the room and left the door open just a sliver. She had a monitor, but Coco liked the idea of having more than one modality to hear Emma if she cried.
Now she was second-guessing her decision to talk with Benjamin. She’d almost hoped Emma would take a long time to get to sleep, so she wouldn’t be able to meet with him. Her stomach knotted with nerves. Benjamin was a tough man. She just hoped he would be on her side.
Chapter Two
Coco hesitated at the entry to the den. Now she wondered why she’d chosen it with its brown leather furniture and masculine tan, rust and brown palette. Maybe the office would have been better.
Suddenly, Benjamin stood in front of her. Her heart stopped.
“You look like you need a drink,” he said.
She shook her head. “No. I’m fine.”
“Hmm,” he said doubtfully. “Come on in.”
She followed him into the den and gingerly sat across from him on the sofa. He’d sat in the well-worn leather chair. He looked at her expectantly and her throat went dry.
She opened her mouth and a croaking sound came out.
He set his shot glass next to her on the couch. “You need a swallow of something. May as well be some good whiskey.”
She took a sip of the alcohol. It burned all the way down.
“Another,” he said.
She hesitated, but his nod encouraged her and she took a second sip. “Enough,” she said and gave the glass back to him. “I need your help.”
He took a swallow from the squat glass he’d shared with her. “I figured that. What’s the problem?”
“I’m not sure. These men have been trying to see me.”
“Men?” he repeated, a shot of displeasure rising through him.
“They’ve already come to the house twice and—”
“Which house?” he asked, sitting up in his chair.
“This house,” she said. “Your house.”
“Why in hell are they coming here?” he asked. “And why haven’t any of my staff seen them?”
“They’re here to see me.” She pulled a card from her purse and handed it to them. “I have no idea who the House of Devereaux is.” She took a quick, desperate breath and pushed her brown hair nervously behind her ear. “As you know, my mother died a few months ago. She didn’t have much money at the end.” Coco bit her lip. “Bill collectors started coming around. These men reminded me of them.”
Benjamin frowned and set down his drink. He studied the card. “Did you cosign any of her loans?”
She shook her head.
“I’ll call my brother—he’s an attorney—and see if he knows anything about this House of Devereaux. In the meantime, if those guys show up, I want you to call my cell right away.”
She looked hesitant.
“Is there anything else I need to know?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. I’m just not sure I should have dragged you into this.”
“These men came onto my property without an invitation. You are an important employee. That makes it my business.”
The vulnerability she showed grabbed at him, although he sure as hell wouldn’t admit it. Coco had a fresh-scrubbed face and slim body, making her look younger than her years. Sweet and innocent, probably hoping for a Prince Charming to sweep her off her feet. Not his type at all. Benjamin had usually gone for low-maintenance women who knew their way around a man and wouldn’t expect too much of him. Except for Brooke. He’d made a big mistake with Brooke.
“I need your word that you’ll call me if they come around again,” he insisted.
She sighed and nodded reluctantly. “I w
ill, but I’m hoping I’ll fall off their radar.”
Benjamin had a feeling that her wish wouldn’t come true. “Just so we understand each other,” he said and stood. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
* * *
The next day as Coco dressed Emma, she pointed to the photograph of Benjamin she had placed on a dresser in the baby’s room. “Daddy,” Coco said. “That’s your daddy.”
The baby was cheerful and a little less clingy than usual. Coco was pleased with Emma’s progress and hoped there might be an opportunity for Emma and Benjamin to make a little peace.
The doorbell rang as she was feeding Coco her lunch.
Sarah entered the kitchen. “Two men are here to see you. Dever-something?” she said.
Coco’s stomach clenched. She wondered if she should send them away, but remembered her promise to Benjamin. She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “Tell them to wait in the front room, please,” she said and pulled out her cell phone. As soon as Sarah left, she punched Benjamin’s number on her cell phone.
“Benjamin,” he said in a curt voice.
“It’s me, Coco,” she said. “The men are here. They’re in the den.”
“Do you know what they want?” he asked.
“Not yet. I’ve been feeding Emma. I only called because you made me promise,” she said.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said and hung up the phone.
Coco handed the feeding of Emma over to Sarah and made her way to the front room. The two men immediately stood. “Miss Jordan, thank you for seeing us. Again, I’m Paul Forno, and this is my colleague Gerald Shaw.”
Tense, Coco laced her fingers together in front of her. “If this is regarding my mother’s debt, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
Mr. Forno’s face crinkled in confusion. “Your mother’s debt?” he echoed. “I wasn’t aware that Miss London had any debt issues. According to our information, she’s been well cared for, per her agreement with your father.”
“Miss London,” she echoed, not certain who was more confused—she or Mr. Forno. “That’s not my mother’s name. You must have the wrong person.”