by Linda Warren
Nicki rubbed her head against his leg. “No. Don’t like her.”
“You liked her yesterday.”
“No, I didn’t. I wanna go to my room. Daddy, please.”
Becca could see Cord weakening. “Would you get my bags, Cord?”
Didn’t she notice he had a child attached to his leg? Then Cord realized this had to be one of her maneuvers to get him out of the way. He disentangled himself from Nicki, but she ran after him crying, “Daddy! Daddy!”
Becca caught her before she could follow him to the car. She carried Nicki, kicking and sobbing, into the house and sat her firmly on the sofa.
“Leave me ’lone,” she whimpered, and reached for Dolly.
Becca held her face between both hands, rubbing her thumbs over the girl’s wet cheeks. “No, I’m not leaving you alone. I’ve come to spend some time with you and that’s what we’re going to do.”
“Don’t want to.”
“Why?”
“’Cause.”
“’Cause why?”
“’Cause you’re mean.”
“We had fun last night. I was a chicken, you were a cow and Daddy was a horse. Remember?”
“Yeah.” She hiccuped.
Cord came into the room and set down her bags. As soon as she saw him, Nicki threw out her hands and started to cry again. “Daddy, I wanna go to my room.”
Cord took a ragged breath. “Baby, we’re not going to your room.”
She drummed her legs on the sofa in a temper tantrum. “Daddy, please! Daddy, please!” she wailed.
Becca stood and walked over to Cord, whose face had turned a grayish white. “Just leave, Cord. I’ll handle her.”
“Becca.” Her name sounded more like a groan.
“It’ll be all right. I promise.” She gently pushed him toward the door. As she did she noticed that two women had come to stand in the doorway, one tall and thin with gray hair, the other short and on the plump side.
Cord looked back at Becca. “This is Mrs. Witherspoon, the nanny.”
The plump lady stepped forward and shook Becca’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Talbert.”
“And I think you’ve met my sister, Edith,” Cord said.
“We call her Edie.”
Becca smiled at the older woman. “Yes, it’s good to see you again, Edie.”
Nicki’s wails drowned out her words.
Becca gave Cord a knowing look, and he slowly made his way out the door, preceded by the two women.
Nicki’s cries continued and Becca sat beside her. She could understand now why everyone was so reluctant to make Nicki leave her room. This type of behavior was hard on the nerves. She waited for a moment, trying to figure out the best approach to this situation. Her attention was drawn to the doll clutched in Nicki’s arms, and she started to talk.
“Dolly, do you know what you and I are going to do today? No? Well, I’ll tell you. We’re going outside. The sun is shining. The birds are singing. It’s a beautiful day. Of course, I’ll have to put some sunscreen on you. Your skin’s so light and we have to protect it. My skin, I don’t have to worry too much about. I just get brown. Still, it never hurts to be careful with the sun. When I was little, I was in the sun all the time. My mother called me a brown-eyed Susan. I never knew what that was, and it confused me. My name’s Becca, not Susan. What do you think of that, Dolly?”
The wails stopped, and Nicki opened one eye and stared at Becca. “Dolly can’t talk.”
“That’s a pity because I like Dolly.”
“She don’t like you.”
Becca brought one hand to her chest. “That breaks my heart.”
Nicki opened her other eye. “It does?”
“Yes.”
“What does that feel like?”
“It feels sad. Does Dolly feel sad?”
“Yes.”
“Everybody’s sad sometimes, but it’s not good to feel sad for too long.”
Nicki smoothed Dolly’s hair. “No.”
Becca knew it wasn’t the right moment to delve further, so she got to her feet. “Tell you what. Why don’t you and Dolly show me to my room and help me unpack?”
Nicki’s eyes narrowed, and Becca was waiting for an I don’t want to, but instead Nicki scooted to the edge of the sofa. “’Kay.”
Becca picked up a suitcase just as Edie returned to the room.
“Let me help you with those.” Edie had to be in her seventies, but she was still agile, her posture as straight as that of a younger woman.
“Thank you,” Becca said, pretending she couldn’t lift the other case. “I think I need help with this one.”
“I’ll help,” Nicki piped up and ran over to Becca. It was the response Becca had wanted. Together, the trio clambered up the stairs.
On the landing, Becca looked around. There was a long hall with half a dozen doors. She remembered Della’s saying that Cord had locked up Anette’s room. She wondered which room it was. She shook her head; it didn’t matter. Still, Anette had died over a year ago, and Becca felt that Cord should have disposed of her things, kept some for his daughter, perhaps given the rest away. Maybe the task was still too painful for him.
“Which room is mine?” she asked to divert her thoughts.
Nicki shrugged.
“The one at the end of the hall,” Edie said. “Mine’s at the other end, and—” she pointed to a door on the right “—that’s Cord’s. Blanche has the big suite downstairs.”
“Thanks,” Becca replied, entering the room. It was elegant with dark furniture and a four-poster bed. The decor was in peach and pale green, and very soothing. She was going to like it here.
“If you don’t need anything else, I’ve got a function at the church I need to attend.”
“No, and thanks for helping, Edie.”
“Sure.” Edie glanced at Nicki, who had crawled onto the bed. “Good luck. Bye, Nicki.”
“Bye, Edie.”
That was all very polite, but Becca knew it wouldn’t last. Nicki had been allowed to do whatever she wanted for too long. When she couldn’t get her way, she became angry and defiant. Becca would try to change all that because she knew it stemmed from Anette’s death. Inside Nicki was still hurting…and so was Cord.
Becca opened her suitcase and began to put her clothes away in an old-fashioned wardrobe that looked priceless. She loved the antique furniture in this house.
Nicki sat, still on the bed, watching her. When Becca opened her makeup bag and set out the contents on the dresser, Nicki’s eyes grew big.
“My mommy had thin…” Her voice trailed off as she realized what she was saying.
Becca sat beside her. “It’s all right to talk about your mother.”
“No, I don’t want to.” Nicki hung her head.
“Are you mad at your mother?”
Nicki didn’t answer.
“I used to be mad at my mother.”
Nicki glanced at her. “Why?”
Becca wasn’t sure how much to say, but she went with her gut instincts. “Because she gave me away when I was a baby and I didn’t know she was my mother until I was seventeen years old. I did mean and bad things because I thought she didn’t love me.”
“Did she?”
“Oh yeah.”
“How you know?”
Becca placed a hand over her heart. “I know in here. Just like you know in there—” she put her hand on Nicki’s chest “—that your mother loved you.”
Nicki’s eyes widened as she tried to understand what Becca was saying. Becca waited a minute, then said, “It’s almost lunchtime. Why don’t we go and see what Della’s fixing?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Well, I am. I only had coffee this morning.”
“I wanna go to my room.”
Becca took a deep breath. “Nicki, sweetie, we’re not going to your room. Please try to understand that. We’ll do anything else that you want—swim, play dolls, swing…anything.”
�
�No, I’m going to my room.”
Before Becca could stop her, she jumped off the bed and ran for the door. Becca caught her halfway down the hall and swung her up. Nicki kicked and screamed, and Becca joined in as before.
CORD CAME THROUGH the back door, wiped his boots on the mat and stopped in his tracks. Screams. Oh God, how did he deal with this? He walked into the kitchen and asked Della, “Has this been going on since I left?”
Della looked up from the stove. “No, it just started.”
Suddenly the screams stopped, and Cord wondered if he should interfere. He’d wait, he decided; he had to give Becca a chance. He felt sure she knew what she was doing. But it wasn’t easy to hear his child in torment.
BECCA AND NICKI EYED each other. Nicki rubbed her eyes with one hand, still clutching Dolly with the other. “Why you do that?”
“Because I don’t like it when you scream.”
“I don’t like it when you scream, either,” Nicki muttered crossly.
“Well, then, let’s not scream.”
Nicki gave her an assessing look. “’Kay.”
Becca smiled. It was a very tiny step, and there were so many more. “Ready to go downstairs and have lunch?”
Nicki shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”
Another step to take, Becca thought. “That’s okay. You can watch me eat.” She set Nicki on her feet and they walked downstairs.
When they entered the kitchen and Nicki saw Cord, she ran to him, crying, “Daddy, Daddy, I wanna go to my room!”
It seemed to be a statement Nicki routinely used to get her way. Her room was where she could grieve in peace—but that wasn’t happening anymore. Becca would insist on it.
They ate at the kitchen table. Della had prepared hamburgers, homemade French fries and cut-up fruit. Just like last night, Becca didn’t force Nicki to eat; she filled Nicki’s plate and cut the hamburger into four pieces so she could eat it easily. She poured lots of ketchup on her plate, then left Nicki alone and started on her own food.
“This burger is absolutely delicious,” she said as she took a bite.
“Triple Creek beef. It’s the best,” Della told her.
“It certainly is,” Becca agreed. “So you eat the beef raised here on the ranch?”
“Sure do,” Cord said. “I won’t sell something to a consumer that I won’t eat myself.”
Beef was something Becca got at the supermarket, not something in her yard. Or was that pasture? She didn’t think she could possibly eat a cow she was personally acquainted with. But if she said that, Cord would laugh. She was a city girl, not used to country ways. Didn’t mean she couldn’t learn, though.
“Do you have a lot of cows?”
“Sometimes more than I want.”
“I’ve never even touched a cow.”
Cord raised his head. “You’re kidding.”
“No, like I said, I was raised on the coast. I’ve touched plenty of fish, but I’ve never even been near a cow.”
A smile curved his lips. “We’ll have to change that—give you a close-up view.”
As they talked, Nicki started to eat her burger and nibble on the fruit. Cord looked at Becca and smiled. They were making progress, and she was warmed by that light in his eyes.
Della placed a bowl of chocolate pudding on the table.
“Look, Becca, it’s chocolate,” Nicki said with her mouth full of fruit.
“So I see.” Becca grinned and spooned some into their bowls.
Nicki stuck her finger in hers, then glanced guiltily at Cord.
“It’s okay, baby, you can eat it any way you want,” he assured her.
Which she did. She got it on her face, her clothes and the table. Finally Becca took Nicki upstairs to wash her and change her outfit. The child was falling asleep. Staying up had taken its toll, and now she needed a nap. Becca carefully laid her in bed, covering her with a sheet.
Cord was waiting for her outside the door. Her stomach tightened as she encountered him—his tall lean frame, his rugged features and dark eyes. Funny how her body reacted to him.
“Thanks, Becca. I didn’t think I was gonna survive after this morning. She fought me every step of the way. She doesn’t seem to do that with you.”
“She knows you’ll give in,” Becca said as they walked downstairs to the den.
“Yeah, but it’s so hard to discipline a child when you know she’s hurting.”
“It’ll get better.”
“With you here, I know it will. You have a magic touch with her.”
“Thank you” was all she could say.
They gazed at each other for a few seconds, then Cord said, “I’d better get back to work. I’ve got hay being baled and calves that need vaccinating. I’ll see you later.” He turned, then stopped. “Oh, Mrs. Witherspoon asked if she could have some time off to go see her sister, who’s not feeling well. I said I’d have to ask you.”
Becca shrugged, amazed that he was clearing this with her. “Sure, as long as Nicki knows she’s coming back.”
“Good.” He nodded and left the room.
BECCA WAS ABOUT TO SIT DOWN in the den, when Blanche breezed in, wearing yet another skintight knit dress.
“I see you’ve arrived, sugar.”
“Yes,” Becca said curtly, not wanting a scene with Blanche.
Blanche looked at herself in a mirror on the wall and fluffed her hair, then she turned to Becca. “Let’s get one thing straight,” she said coolly. “This is my house and I’ve agreed to let you stay here for Nicki’s sake. Cord seems to think you can help her, but at the first sign of trouble, your ass is out of here.”
“Okay, Blanche,” Becca replied in an equally cool voice. “You want to be straight? I will, too. First of all, I do not need a place to stay. I have my own apartment. I’m at the ranch to help Nicki—that’s it. You keep referring to trouble, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about my boys, sugar. Cord and Colton.”
“So?”
“You have to be incredibility naive or just plain stupid. Colton’s has been seeing you for years and now you’re here with Cord.”
Becca drew a patient breath. “I am not here with Cord, and Colton and I are just friends.”
“Sugar, if I know anything, it’s men and women, and they can never be friends. There isn’t any such animal when it comes to the sexes.”
“Then, you don’t know your son because—”
“Oh, please,” Blanche interrupted sarcastically. “Colton’s been hanging around you all these years for one reason and one reason only. He wants you.”
Was that true? She remembered how uncomfortable Colton had been when she’d brought the subject up this morning. She also remembered that he’d said he knew she didn’t have “those feelings” for him. Oh God, that meant he did have “those feelings”—for her. All these years, and they’d never talked about it until today. They’d always been thrown together at family events, gone to movies and out for dinner, enjoyed each other’s company. Maybe she was naive, because Gin saw Colton’s attraction to her, and so did Blanche. Why hadn’t she done something about it? Because they were friends and she didn’t want to lose that friendship. Now what? She didn’t know. Well…yes, she did. She simply had to let go of Colton so he could find the woman of his dreams. That woman was out there; it just wasn’t her.
“I can see you know what I’m talking about,” Blanche murmured.
Becca raised a hand to her throbbing head. “Blanche, it may be hard for you to believe, but Colton and I are friends. I met Cord at the funeral, and I saw him yesterday for the first time in a year. There’s nothing going on between us. I hardly know him. As I already told you, I’m here to help his daughter. Nothing else.”
“You’re lying to me, sugar, and you’re lying to yourself. And I don’t think you even know it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Last night when I walked into this room, I saw the way
you were looking at Cord and the way he was looking at you. There was enough electricity to jump-start Hoover Dam.”
“Don’t—”
“No, you listen to me,” Blanche cut in. “Cord hasn’t looked at a woman in over a year, so don’t take those glances seriously. He just needs what all men need, and it has nothing to do with those fairy tales in your head.”
Becca’s eyes narowed. “You’re a very crude person.”
“I’m also realistic. You’re a doctor with a medical practice, and here you are baby-sitting a five-year-old girl who throws temper tantrums.”
“It’s much more than that,” Becca insisted.
“I don’t think so. Cord and that witch, Edie, have just pampered Nicki since Anette’s death. They haven’t even tried to address the real issue, but I’m staying out of it. I’ve got better things to do.”
Becca frowned. “I can see you love your granddaughter as much as you love everyone else.”
Blanche peered at the diamond watch on her arm. “Damn, I’ve got to run. I’m gonna be late for my luncheon.” She whirled toward the door. “Help yourself to my house, sugar, and anything in it, even my son.” She threw the words over her shoulder in a baiting tone.
Becca felt the urge to stomp her feet and scream like Nicki. Blanche had that effect on her. She probably had that effect on most women. Becca wondered about her relationship with Anette; from the remarks Blanche had made, it didn’t sound like a good one. And how did Nicki fit into the picture? Blanche didn’t seem to care for her at all. Becca ran both hands through her hair and sank onto the sofa. The Prescotts were hard to take. She’d only been here a few hours and she was already yearning for the love and closeness of her own family. Maybe you had to leave something before you could truly appreciate it.
Becca leaned against the sofa and tried not to think about the things Blanche had said, but they were pounding through her head. She wasn’t attracted to Colton in a sexual way, and Colton knew it. Then, why had he hung around all these years? Oh, Colton, she prayed, please don’t love me. She couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him. Colton had told her not to worry, but she did. They had to talk again, and soon.
Enough electricity to jump-start Hoover Dam.