by Sharon Swan
And now, as it turned out, someone had apparently done it on purpose—which, of course, only gave rise to more questions. Namely, who had done it? And why?
AMANDA CONTINUED to mull over the pavilion matter as she drove home with her purchases resting in the back of the minivan. She left Big Draw Drive and turned down Maple Street, still wondering what might possibly lead anyone to bring down a structure that had been a part of Jester for so long. Then, as she approached the house, the sight of a strange car in the Devlins’ driveway had her considering another question entirely.
Who was their unexpected visitor?
She pulled up next to the blue sedan, switched off the engine and got out. Although far from new, she noted that the car seemed well maintained. And for the life of her she couldn’t come up with a possible owner.
Not one of the recent millionaires, that was certain. Late-model luxury vehicles, once a rarity in Jester, had become a fairly common sight. Set against the backdrop of the old buildings lining Main Street, they offered a marked contrast. Tradition going back to pioneer days versus modern conveniences the rugged people who had first settled Jester would probably have gawked at with all the wide-eyed wonder a spaceship landing from outer space would produce during present times.
Amanda’s mouth curved at the thought. It widened to a full-blown smile when she opened the front door and the smell of fresh baking greeted her. These days, Mabel not only used the oven at her own home to good effect but had also taken to filling the Devlin place with sweet and now familiar scents.
“You’ve worked your magic again, Mab—” Amanda started to say. Then her voice died right along with her smile at the sight of the two women seated in the living room.
One was Mabel, holding Betsy in her lap and looking even more like Mrs. Claus in a ruffled red apron.
The other was Louise Pearson, looking exactly like a no-nonsense government representative in an olive suit that couldn’t have been more plain. It had official written all over it.
“Hello, dear,” Mabel said brightly. “As you see, we have a visitor.”
Amanda plastered another smile on her face, hoping it didn’t look as forced as it felt. “Yes.” She met the social worker’s gaze across the room. “We weren’t expecting you,” she said as lightly as she could manage.
“No, you wouldn’t be,” Louise didn’t hesitate to tell her. “Child and Family Services doesn’t give any notice when it conducts an inspection. We’ve found that’s the best way to learn the true state of things.”
An inspection. A unexpected inspection. Well, they would just have to deal with it, Amanda told herself as she walked across the room and sat on the sofa next to Mabel.
“Mandeee!” Betsy cried in a bid for attention that transformed to giggles when Amanda pulled the little girl into her lap and nuzzled her nose in the crease of a tiny neck.
“Did you have a good day, honey?” she asked, straightening.
Betsy’s chin went up and down in a rapid nod. “Cookies,” she replied, as if that explained it all.
“Mabel made some,” Amanda summed up.
“And the children helped,” Mabel added. She looked at Louise. “They’re getting very good at cutting out the dough and putting sprinkles on top.”
Seated across from the sofa in an overstuffed chair, Louise merely dipped her head in response.
While Betsy quietly clapped her hands and sang a garbled version of a Sesame Street song, Amanda leaned back and tried to relax. There was nothing to worry about, she assured her nerves, at least not as far as the children were concerned. Family Services would find that things were going as well as anyone could expect. Liza and Caleb had shown no reluctance to attend school, and Patrick and Betsy were undeniably content to spend their days with Mabel. When they were all together, Amanda had done her best to create a loving family atmosphere.
Not, of course, that everything went smoothly all the time. Caleb was inclined to try a slide down the staircase banister when he thought he could get away with it, and Patrick had to be regularly reminded to put his toys away. The children also had disagreements between themselves, although less than many siblings. Losing their parents at such a young age had clearly created even closer bonds than usual.
As far as dealing with the most recent change in their lives, only Liza obviously remained wary, as though she couldn’t quite believe that there was no longer any need to be concerned about the future. Amanda longed to see one of the sunny grins Betsy so readily displayed on Liza’s face. Somehow she knew that when that happened she could let go of her own concerns about the eldest Bradley child.
All in all, though, no one could say that her sisters and brothers were worse off for having come to Jester. Just the opposite, in fact. No, as far as this impromptu inspection was concerned, Amanda felt safe in concluding that only thing to possibly worry about was—
“When will your husband be home, Mrs. Devlin?” Louise asked.
Yes, that could well be the problem area. Amanda knew it by the way the social worker’s gaze lit with a we’ll-just-see-about-this gleam. It seemed that, although she’d consented to allowing the Bradley children to be placed in Amanda’s care, Louise still had her doubts about the hasty marriage in Pine Run. Fortunately by now the bride and groom had gotten some practice at playing the role of happily wedded couple.
“Please call me Amanda,” she said, her tone staunchly polite. “Dev will be home in plenty of time for dinner. We usually eat at six o’clock.”
“They like to keep the children on a fairly fixed schedule,” Mabel explained to Louise, “and I think it’s best, don’t you?”
“Yes, I believe it is.” The gleam in the social worker’s eye didn’t dim a wait. “The dinner hour can also be an important time for children to benefit from parental influences. How the group interacts at mealtimes can be very…telling.”
Amanda hesitated, then decided to take a risk. “You’re more than welcome to join us,” she said, and couldn’t help but be pleased when the invitation seemed to startle Louise, at least for a moment.
“You should,” Mabel told their visitor. “This is such a nice family. Ike and I are so glad to have them as neighbors. And as for the newlyweds—” eyes sparkling, she slid a sidelong glance at Amanda “—well, as I’ve said before, it’s so wonderful to see young love in bloom.”
A second of sheer silence followed that statement. Then, frowning thoughtfully, Louise said, “Since my husband is currently out of town on business, perhaps I will accept.”
“Good.” Amanda plastered another smile on her face and met the challenge. “We’ll be happy to have you.”
“But first,” Louise told her, “I was waiting for you to return before I inspected the children’s rooms and had a private word with the older ones.”
Mabel rose to her feet and looked down at Amanda. “I’ll be going, dear. Liza’s upstairs doing her homework, and the boys are in the family room watching television.” Leaning over, she patted one of Betsy’s chubby legs. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
Betsy grinned. “Cookies?”
Mabel laughed. “I do believe she’s going to become my best helper.”
Amanda stood, still holding Betsy. “I think you’ll find the children’s rooms will pass muster,” she told Louise.
Nodding, the social worker got up in one efficient motion. “It’s merely a formality. My report has to state that they have certain necessities.”
Amanda pursed her lips, thinking that the woman who conducted surprise visits could well wind up being surprised herself once she got a look at how many necessities the Bradley bunch had, including closets now filled with new clothes to replace the undeniably worn clothing they’d brought with them. And while a private talk with the children might unearth a few complaints about regular baths with thorough ear washings and vegetables that couldn’t be ducked at mealtimes, Amanda was fairly sure all would go well there.
The real question was: Would today put an end to Louise’s doub
ts about the Devlin marriage?
It wouldn’t hurt, Amanda decided, to call her husband at the Heartbreaker and warn him that the happily wedded couple had another performance in store for them.
To satisfy one particularly eagle-eyed representative of Family Services, she knew it would have to be good.
Chapter Eight
“Sweetheart, I’m home!”
With those ringing words, Dev closed the front door behind him. After stowing his hat and jacket in the closet, he started toward the rear of the house, grateful that Amanda had given him a heads-up. He’d at least had the short walk from the saloon to prepare for the prospect of dealing with the formidable Mrs. Pearson. Too bad he’d already discovered that he was more likely to suddenly sprout wings than charm the social worker into anything with an easy grin.
He couldn’t say it was a first, either. Any charm he might lay claim to had also seemed to be wasted on the hardheaded female he’d been denied so much as a glimpse of lately when he got back to the house after his second shift at the Heartbreaker. By ten o’clock, she’d been tucked away in her room.
Which was just as well, he told himself. Keeping his mind off the one occasion when they’d shared a late-night conversation—and a lot more—in front of a flickering fire was bound to be harder if they spent too much time alone.
“Hello, dear.” His wife gave him a blinding smile as she met him at the doorway to the family room. “We have company.”
Figuring their company could well be watching, he bent and planted a brief kiss on her lips, knowing better than to linger over it. That would only get him into trouble. “I saw a car in the driveway.”
“Unfortunately I had no idea who it belonged to when I saw it,” Amanda told him in a hasty whisper before raising her voice to add, “Family Services stopped by to see how the children were doing.” Summoning another smile, she took his arm and led him into the room where four kids lounged on the plush ivory rug in front of the TV while a large-boned woman with graying hair scraped back in a bun sat, spine straight, at the end of the sofa closest to the doorway. “I’m sure you remember Louise Pearson.”
I wouldn’t be likely to forget her, Dev thought, dredging up a slow grin despite being all but certain that it wouldn’t do him a lick of good. “Nice to see you again,” he told their visitor.
Predictably, the social worker merely narrowed her gaze and dispensed with any small talk. “I wouldn’t have considered my report complete unless I saw you, Mr. Devlin.”
He didn’t miss the meaningful edge to that statement. Even if Amanda hadn’t warned him, he’d have been pretty fast in concluding that their rushed wedding was still being questioned. “Then I’m glad you’ll be able to do a thorough job, Mrs. Pearson,” he said, keeping his tone mild.
“No need to stand on ceremony with each other,” Amanda broke in, still holding on to her smile. By her fingernails, Dev suspected. She couldn’t have failed to notice the undercurrents in that last exchange any more than he had.
“Louise is going to stay for dinner,” she explained to her husband as if she were passing along that news for the first time. “Under the circumstances, she and I have already agreed that it would be more comfortable to be on a first-name basis.”
“Sure thing,” he replied as he switched his gaze back to the social worker. “Feel free to call me Dev.”
“Deveee!” Betsy wasted no time in countering from her spot on the rug.
That did what the man once known for his wily ways with women had failed to do. It had Louise’s straight-as-an-arrow lips curving at the tips as the pint-sized girl toddled over to him and raised her arms. “Up!”
“Yes, your little majesty.” He lifted her in one smooth motion. “I live to serve.”
“They get along so well together,” Amanda cheerfully informed their guest.
“The kid has turned out to be as crazy about me as my wife is,” Dev found himself contending as a small devil sparked to life inside him and urged him on. “In fact, neither of them can keep their hands off me.”
“Is that so?” Louise asked, arching a brow.
“Absolutely,” he replied.
While Amanda stood stock-still beside him, Betsy readily backed him up by tugging on one of his ears. He gave her a short bounce he knew by now was guaranteed to produce giggles. It took a few more bounces, and a lot more giggling, before she demanded, “Down!” and toddled back to join Liza and the boys.
“Well, dinner’s almost ready,” Amanda said, tucking her casual cream-colored top more firmly into the waistband of her tan slacks. “Want to help me get it on the table, dear?”
“Absolutely,” Dev replied for a second time. “Will you excuse us…Louise?”
At the social worker’s nod, Amanda added, “When this program is over in a few minutes, kids, you can go up and wash your hands. And make sure you take any toys you brought downstairs with you and put them away.” The last comment was offered with a pointed glance at Patrick.
With that, the Devlins left the room and headed for the kitchen at a fast clip. Once they were safely out of hearing distance, Dev said, “Sorry you got blind-sided by this. How has it gone so far?”
“As well as can be expected, I think.” Amanda retrieved some pot holders from the counter and pulled a large casserole dish from the oven. “The children’s rooms passed her inspection with flying colors, and she seemed satisfied after the private talk she had with them.”
He rolled up the sleeves of his denim shirt. “Don’t worry, we’ll get through the rest of it. Some tasty food mixed with a helping of friendly conversation, plus a couple more sweethearts and dears tossed in for good measure, should get the job done.”
She blew out a breath. “At least Mabel is on our side. She’s so convinced of how happily wedded we are, she didn’t hesitate to rave about it before she left.”
“That can’t have hurt,” he allowed.
“I suppose not,” Amanda agreed as she started for the dining room with the casserole in hand. But the thought that dogged her heels as she walked down the hall was that Mabel was one thing, and Louise another.
She set the heavy white dish at one end of the long pine table and cast a critical eye over the paisley place mats she’d chosen to compliment the new maroon drapes. With a small spray of fresh herbs acting as a centerpiece, the room looked comfortably homey, if she did say so herself. At the moment she could only be glad for the effort she’d put into decorating the house. No one, not even the most discriminating of people, could contend that the Devlin place wasn’t a good spot to raise children.
It had to weigh in their favor when it came to filling out Louise’s report. Now if they could just get through dinner without any stumbles on the path to winning the social worker over once and for all. No, if she could get through dinner, Amanda amended. Something told her that the man she’d married would have little trouble furthering a friendly, not to mention convincing, conversation.
By the time she was dishing out second helpings of baked chicken and creamy rice, that theory had proved to be true. Liza had been her usual quiet self, and the large black cat curled on the floor beside her only offered a purr now and then when she did her best to secretly drop a bite of something his way. But between Betsy’s merry babbling, the two boys’ cheerful bantering, and the man of the house’s knack for playing the contented husband, all traces of the undercurrents evident in his earlier exchange with their unexpected company had disappeared.
Things were going well. Amazingly well, Amanda thought as her spirits took a definite turn for the better.
Before long dessert was finished and the older children were helping Dev clear everything off the table. For her part, Amanda could have slumped in her seat and looked heavenward in sheer gratitude, she was that relieved. Inviting Louise Pearson to join them for dinner had been the right decision. Somewhere along the way, the woman with the admirably straight spine had even relaxed enough to lean back in her chair.
“T
hat was delicious,” Louise said from her place at one side of the table. “You’re a good cook, Amanda.”
More than the words, the cordial tone in which they’d been issued was music to her hostess’s ears. “Thank you, Louise.”
“You and husband interact well with the children. And,” Louise added after a short pause, “you also seem to deal well with each other.”
If you only knew how much we once would have gone out of our way not to deal with each other. “Living together has proved to be a, ah, stimulating experience,” Amanda said with a wide smile, hoping she wasn’t laying it on too thick. Not that it wasn’t true that it had been stimulating, she reminded herself. Maybe too much so in some respects, because even though Dev Devlin had told an out-and-out whopper earlier by saying that she couldn’t keep her hands off him, she knew she wouldn’t be making sure she was upstairs before he came home for the night if the thought of her hands on him had no effect on her.
They should have both kept their hands—and lips—to themselves right from the day they’d stood before the judge and said “I do.” Of that, Amanda was certain.
“Do you have a restroom downstairs?” Louise asked. “I probably should use it before I head home.”
Amanda nodded. “The quickest way is to go through the family room,” she instructed. “It’s the door on the far side of the room, just past the television.”
“All done!” Betsy announced as Louise left the dining room. With no teddy bear currently seated beside her, the little girl settled for scraping her spoon on the high chair’s tray instead of dumping the bowl that had held her ice cream over the bear’s head. “Kitkat!” she added with a look down at Rufus. As though he had no intention of risking having something dumped on him, the cat took off.
Amanda stood and hoisted Betsy up. “I’m glad you’re eating good, honey, even if you are getting heavier every—”
A startled cry—a woman’s cry—suddenly broke in, followed in a heartbeat by a loud thump.
It could only be Louise, Amanda thought as she gripped Betsy tighter and rushed out into the hall. Dev and the other children, coming from the kitchen, were a short step in front of her as they all raced into the family room. There, they found the social worker stretched out full length on the rug and staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.