“Then you didn’t get to the end, did you?”
Taylor appreciated the amateur analysis, but in his opinion the guy couldn’t have been further off the mark. His relationship with Zelda was definitely at the end of the road. He drained the last of the coffee and tossed a couple of bills onto the bar. The bartender shoved them back.
“The coffee and the pep talk are on me this time.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“Sure you can. Just come in sometime and let me know how it turns out.”
“Yeah, right. I’ll invite you to the wedding,” he said dryly.
He drove to an inn in the heart of old Charleston and checked in. He couldn’t see one single reason to go back to Port William tonight. With any luck Zelda would be gone by morning and temptation would be out of his life once and for all. The prospect didn’t bring him much satisfaction.
He flipped on the TV, took a shower and settled down to read the depositions he’d picked up earlier in the day. The words blurred on the page, and his concentration was shot. The background noise from the television irritated him. He finally switched it off.
Wide awake and determined not to think about Zelda and that soft, vulnerable look in her eyes, he decided he’d call his service one last time.
“Mr. Matthews, thank goodness,” Wilma said. “You need to get yourself one of them beepers.”
“Why, when I have you?”
“It’s your girl, sir.”
His heartbeat seemed to skid to a stop. “Caitlin?”
“Yes, sir. Your secretary…”
Secretary? He didn’t have one anymore. “Darlene?”
“No, the new one. Miss Zelda. She called earlier this evening and said Caitlin was taken sick at school.”
A sense of unreality spread through him. Dread had his pulse hammering. “I’ll leave right away. Could you call over there and tell them I’m leaving Charleston now?”
“She’s not at the school. Miss Zelda went and picked her up. She’s at home. Checked on her myself not more than an hour ago. Her fever hasn’t broken yet, but the doctor told Miss Zelda not to worry. Kids spike these fevers all the time. I have four young ones of my own. Every one of them scared the bejesus out of me a time or two. Don’t you go driving too fast to get home, you hear?”
“Thanks, Wilma.”
It took Taylor less than ten minutes to dress, pack up his briefcase and get on the road. For the first time in his life, he wished he had a car phone so he could call and see for himself that Caitlin was not seriously ill. He hadn’t wanted to waste a single second making that call before leaving the hotel.
She’s with Zelda, he reminded himself. Whatever his doubts about Zelda and about their own future, he knew she would die herself before she allowed anything to happen to his daughter. Given everything else he knew about her, he wasn’t sure why he felt so strongly about this, but he believed it with all his heart.
Chapter Fifteen
It was after midnight when Taylor finally pulled into the driveway at home. Every light in the house seemed to be burning. Why? What had gone wrong? He took off for the front door at a dead run, not certain what he expected to find inside. Doctors? Paramedics? His parents? All foolish thoughts given the lack of a single vehicle in front of the house other than his own and Zelda’s bright red convertible.
He opened the door quietly, then listened. There wasn’t so much as a faint sound of stirring anywhere. Encouraged by that, he took a quick survey of the downstairs rooms, his mouth dropping open at the mess in the kitchen. Apparently Zelda had tried to fix something to tempt Caitlin’s appetite. Judging from the chaos, it had taken several attempts.
Frozen juice cans littered the sink. Eggshells, a tin of cinnamon and an empty milk carton hinted at an attempt to make custard, which he could have told her was a waste of time. Two pieces of burned toast remained in the toaster as if she’d just taken one look at them and given up that idea. A smile tugged at his mouth. He had to give her high marks for determination, anyway.
He flipped off the kitchen light, dismissing the mess until morning, then climbed the stairs. Up here, the bathroom and hall lights were on, though only a faint glow showed from Caitlin’s room. Her night-light. She wouldn’t sleep without it. Had she told Zelda or had Zelda guessed?
He walked quietly down the hall and stepped into the dimly lit room, his glance going straight to the bed. It was empty.
Then he looked at the rocking chair, one Maribeth had bought when Caitlin was a baby and which Caitlin had climbed in herself from the first day she could reach it, content to rock for hours. What he saw now brought a lump to his throat. Emotions he hadn’t wanted to feel, had thought he could dismiss, crowded in as he studied the two people who were most precious to him in all the world. One of them, his daughter, he had a right to love, a duty to protect. The other was a woman he had to force himself to sacrifice, for all their sakes.
Zelda was sound asleep. Exhaustion had left faint shadows under her eyes. The bump on her forehead had turned an interesting combination of purple and yellow. Though Zelda had to have been in pain herself, Caitlin was cradled protectively in her arms, wrapped in a blanket, the thumb she hadn’t sucked in years tucked in her mouth.
He crept into the room and knelt beside them. He brushed his fingertips across Caitlin’s brow and discovered it was cool to the touch. A profound relief spread through him. She was okay. Zelda had seen to it. Even as angry as she must be with him, she had cared for Caitlin. He would be forever in her debt for that.
His daughter stirred. Blue eyes sleepily sought his. “Hi, Daddy. I’ve been sick.”
“So I heard,” he whispered, indicating Zelda’s sleeping form. “How’re you feeling now?”
“I’m all better. Zelda made me custard.”
He grinned. “I thought you hated custard.”
“That was your custard,” she said imperiously. “Zelda’s was good.”
“I see.” He reached out to pick her up. “Let’s get you into bed. It’s late.”
“But I’ve been sleeping and sleeping.”
“It’s one in the morning. A little more sleep will do you good.”
“What about Zelda?”
Just then Zelda’s eyes blinked open. Her gaze met Taylor’s then skittered away. Instantly she touched her hand to Caitlin’s forehead. The worried expression on her face disappeared.
“The fever’s gone,” she pronounced with evident relief. “How do you feel, pumpkin?”
Caitlin rolled her eyes at the nickname she barely tolerated from Taylor or his parents. “Better. I told Daddy you make the best custard of anybody. Is there any left?”
“I made enough for an army,” Zelda admitted. “The refrigerator is filled with it.”
“Can I have more?”
“Now?” Zelda asked incredulously. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“But I’m hungry. I’ll bet Daddy is, too.”
“I did miss dinner,” Taylor confessed. “How about you?”
“I wasn’t especially hungry,” Zelda admitted.
“Then that does it. Custard all around,” he said, then scowled at his daughter. “Then you, my little one, are going back to sleep.”
“Can we eat downstairs?” Caitlin asked, already scrambling out of Zelda’s embrace and darting for the door. Her flu or whatever it had been evidently forgotten.
Taylor didn’t miss the expression of sadness that suddenly stole over Zelda’s face. He knew how it felt to be suddenly bereft. He waited for her at the top of the stairs, then touched her hand. “Thank you. I’ll never forget what you did.”
“I did it for Caitlin,” she said stiffly, still refusing to look directly at him.
He touched her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I know that,” he said softly. “I’m grateful just the same. Maybe more than you can possibly imagine.”
* * *
Seeing the gratitude in Taylor’s eyes, the sudden warmth, Zelda felt her
spirits slowly begin to lift. It was going to be okay, after all. She was almost sure of it.
Almost.
It was that one tiny shred of uncertainty that made her cautious. Convictions held for as long as Taylor had clung to his about her didn’t turn around overnight. She’d learned that lesson just a day or two ago to her bitter dismay. But surely after these tense hours when Caitlin had been left in her care he had seen indisputable evidence of the woman she’d become, not the reckless girl he remembered. Surely that would count for something, she thought, then hated herself for placing her emotions at his mercy.
“Will you read me another story?” Caitlin pleaded just then, interrupting Zelda’s thoughts.
Zelda smiled at her. She had agreed to stay on for another day or two until the doctor gave Caitlin permission to return to school.
“Which one do you want?” she asked. She’d been reading Little House on the Prairie for hours already. She’d re-read all of Angelina Ballerina at least a dozen times, as well.
“The ballerina one,” Caitlin said this time. “I asked Daddy if I could have ballet lessons.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said when I get well we’d talk about it. Do you think he’ll let me? It would mean moving back home.”
Zelda was surprised that Taylor hadn’t dismissed the idea out of hand. He’d never been willing to bring Caitlin home before. “If your father said he’d consider it, then I’m sure he will.”
Caitlin regarded her intently. “He’d need someone to help him, if I came home,” she said slyly.
Zelda glanced into guileless blue eyes. “Oh?”
“You could do it. He already likes you. You don’t have a little girl of your own at home, so I could be your little girl and then I’d have a mommy and a daddy.”
Zelda wiped at the tear that tumbled down her cheek at the ingenuous suggestion. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at Caitlin. Suddenly she felt two little arms go around her neck. She heard a faint sniff.
“I’m sorry,” Caitlin whispered. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
Zelda hugged her. “Oh, baby, knowing that you’d like me to be your mommy doesn’t make me sad. It’s the nicest thing anybody’s ever said to me.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“Oh, just grown-up foolishness.”
“Does that mean I can tell Daddy you’ll do it?”
Zelda chuckled at Caitlin’s persistence. “No, you may not. I think this is one situation you’ll have to leave entirely up to your father to handle,” she said, regretting more than she could say that she couldn’t encourage Caitlin to give the bullheaded man a gentle shove.
* * *
To Zelda’s astonishment, Taylor did agree to let Caitlin stay at home until after the holidays. Maybe her bout with the flu, as mild as it had been, had awakened him to the fact that she ought to be home where he could look after her. He promised the school he would hire a tutor to see that she kept up with her lessons. Just as he hung up the phone after working out the details with Ms. Patterson, Zelda heard herself volunteering to do it. It was amazing how little relationship there was between her brain and her tongue.
Taylor’s startled gaze clashed with hers. “I thought you were leaving.”
She shrugged. “I’m in no rush. Christmas is less than a month away. I can always go back to Los Angeles after New Year’s.”
“If you’re going to stick around, you could keep your job with me,” he suggested, his gaze fixed on her as if he were trying to gauge her reaction. “That would make more sense.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Afraid to be in the same room with me?” he taunted.
“You’re the one who ought to panic at the thought,” she said dryly. “You know what everyone says about my temper.”
“You’re a pushover,” he contradicted. “Anyone who can read the same book over and over and over without screaming is an old softie.”
“Then let me keep on doing that,” she said. “There’s no point in hiring a stranger for just a few weeks.”
Still, Taylor hesitated. It finally dawned on Zelda why.
“You don’t trust me with her, do you?” she said, swallowing hard against the hurt that seemed lodged in her throat.
“Of course I do,” he said too quickly.
Zelda regarded him belligerently. “Then prove it.”
“This isn’t some game of I-dare-you,” he chided.
“No,” she agreed softly. “It’s far more important than any game we’ve ever played. It’s a matter of trust and respect.”
“It’s a matter of my child’s well-being.”
“Damn it, Taylor, don’t you realize that I would protect your daughter with my life? You know what happened just days ago. It might have turned into something more serious, but it didn’t. I watched over her every second. I stayed in constant touch with the doctor.”
A sigh shuddered through him. “I know that. Deep in my gut I don’t question that at all, but up here…” He tapped his head. “Up here, I keep seeing her mother’s car at the bottom of that ravine. But for the grace of God, Caitlin could have been in it with her. And no one loved our daughter more than Maribeth did.”
“I am not Maribeth!” Zelda snapped, then threw up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Why am I doing this? How many times will I allow you to humiliate me with your unreasonable doubts? I can’t prove something to a man who won’t even see what’s right in front of him.” She grabbed her coat. “I’m out of here. Kiss Caitlin for me and tell her I love her and that I’ll miss her.”
Shaking with anger, she was all the way through the front door and on the porch before she felt Taylor’s fingers lock around her wrist. Though his expression was still filled with doubts, he said quietly, “Go upstairs and tell her you’ll be helping with her tutoring for a while.”
“Go to hell,” she retorted, wrenching free.
“Don’t punish Caitlin for my stupidity.”
The plea reached her as nothing else might have. Caitlin wanted so badly to be back at home again. Could she deny her this chance to live at home like a normal little girl again? Perhaps by the end of the holidays, Taylor would see that Caitlin was where she belonged, at home with him. It could be her gift to the little girl she’d come to love.
“I’ll be here first thing in the morning,” she agreed finally. “After you’ve left for work.”
Taylor’s expression hardened, but he nodded. “Fine.”
“I’ll stay until you get home in the evenings, but not one second longer. Understood?”
He sighed. “Yes, Zelda. The ground rules are perfectly clear.”
She looked into his eyes, hoping to see something that would make this easier, but all she saw was a man who had to struggle to trust her. She hated him for that. More, she hated herself for sticking around for this one pitiful crumb he’d deigned to toss her. Only Caitlin’s welfare allowed her to live with the decision.
* * *
It might not have been so awful spending her days with Caitlin and avoiding Taylor, if it hadn’t been Christmastime. It was a season for joy, a season for families and forgiveness, her very favorite time of year.
It was also a season for the worst loneliness of Zelda’s life. She felt cut off from everyone she loved, especially Taylor, and he was close by.
She bought presents for Kate and her other friends in Los Angeles and mailed them off. Suddenly she longed to be back there, to be back in a job where she was respected and trusted, back in a place where she felt a part of things, rather than an outsider, always wanting what she couldn’t have. In L.A. anything was possible. She resolved to go back immediately after the first of the year. She would talk to Kate soon and set the wheels in motion for her return.
In the meantime, Caitlin wanted to go Christmas shopping for her father, and Zelda had promised to take her.
“What are you going to get Daddy?” Caitlin asked as they strolled through th
e mall looking in every decorated window. Carols blared over the loudspeaker system. Santa Claus sat in a winter wonderland display, listening patiently to children’s wish lists. Despite their mission, she was having the time of her life. Her depression began to lift.
“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Zelda said. “We probably won’t exchange gifts.”
“He’s already bought yours,” Caitlin confided.
Zelda was startled by the revelation. “Oh?”
“I’m not supposed to tell what it is.”
“Then I guess you’d better keep it a secret.”
Caitlin looked disappointed by Zelda’s refusal to plague her with questions. The truth was, Zelda didn’t want to know what impersonal little trinket Taylor might have bought for her. A scarf, probably. Something he’d had Darlene pick out, now that she was working in the office for him again until he could locate another replacement.
“Now, then,” Zelda said briskly. “Have you decided what you want to get him?”
“He said he needs a new shirt. A white dress shirt,” Caitlin said. She glanced up at Zelda. “I think that sounds awfully dull.”
“I agree,” Zelda said, suddenly grinning. “Let’s choose a shirt with a little pizzazz for him.”
Caitlin regarded her uncertainly. “What’s pizzazz?”
“Trust me.”
“He said white.”
“What does he know? He’s a man.” She led Caitlin to the men’s department and zeroed in on a table filled with shirts with stripes, colored shirts with white collars and French cuffs. There wasn’t a plain white shirt in the lot.
Caitlin immediately reached for one with gray stripes. Zelda would have picked something besides gray, but it definitely had more pizzazz than Taylor’s usual selections. She picked one in mauve and gray. Despite her reservations, Caitlin’s eyes lit up.
“These are definitely better than white, but I can’t afford two.”
“You get the gray stripes. I’ll get the mauve. Now let’s look at ties.” She found a couple that were classic in design, but done with more fashionable colors. She draped two choices over the shirts. “What do you think?”
“Beautiful,” Caitlin said. “Do you really think Daddy will like them, though?”
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