“I’ll not turn Mikey into a specimen for some kind of crazy experiment just for the benefit of Seth Wyatt.” Meg’s voice penetrated loud and clear through the wires. “He’s never done one damned thing for this town and we return the favor.”
“He’s trying to do something for the town,” Pippa pleaded. “If there isn’t an adequate facility, I’ll twist his arm until he builds one. But the kids would have the benefit much sooner if the school will provide the use of their gym.”
“Why is he doing this?” Meg demanded suspiciously.
“For his son. Chad needs therapy and he needs friends. Don’t you see? This is the break you and the town have been waiting for. If we get Seth involved in community activities...” At the sound of feet in the corridor outside, Pippa halted. “Listen, think about it. I’ll call you later.”
She hung up just as Seth walked in.
He plopped a plate of chocolate chip cookies still warm from the oven on the desk. “Tell me exactly what the doctor said,” he demanded.
He never asked, never offered a “please” or “thank you,” he just commanded his troops and expected them to snap into line. Pippa wondered what kind of childhood had created such a man.
“The doctor is sending a full report,” she reminded him. “I doubt there’s anything new about his physical condition. Children are remarkably resilient. There’s been some definite growth and improvement in the nerve damage, but nothing to give hope that he’ll ever walk again. With proper therapy, he might eventually develop his upper body so that he can obtain mobility with crutches for brief amounts of time.”
Did she imagine it, or was that uncertainty flickering in the Grim Reaper’s eyes? For just a moment, he appeared almost human, a father who wanted what was best for his son but didn’t know what it was. That expression tugged at her always vulnerable heartstrings and stirred something deep inside her. She resisted the tug easily as his face froze up again.
“I don’t want him laughed at,” he said coldly. “He’s only known encouragement, and I don’t want that changed. A child’s mind is just as important as his body.”
“One affects the other,” Pippa answered quietly. ‘“Build strong minds with strong bodies’ is not just a hackneyed cliché. You cannot protect him forever. What would happen to him if you were hit by a truck tomorrow?”
His icy features turned glacial. “That’s a fear I live with every day of my life. Set up your gym, Miss Cochran. I want approval of every step.”
He stalked back to his office and closed the connecting door after him.
Maybe it was time she found out a little bit more about Seth Wyatt, a.k.a. Tarant Mott, Pippa mused as she glared at the closed door. She’d met controlling men before, but this one seemed bent on twisting the world to suit his own obsessions.
For her own peace of mind, she should understand his obsessions.
***
A rifle shot shattered the cool dusk as Pippa rolled Chad over a rough cobblestone on the terrace. At the dangerous crack, she hastily shoved the boy toward the open French doors and safety.
She recognized rifle shots when she heard them. She’d grown up in a part of the country where hunting was practically a religion. Did they have hunters in California? She supposed they must. She just couldn’t imagine what hunting season would be open this time of year. Or why they’d be so close to private property.
Glancing up to where Chad’s father had been sliding down a slope in search of a particular oak leaf for Chad’s science project, she saw Seth duck behind a ridge as another shot rang out, splintering a tree limb not far from his head.
Stunned, Pippa sought the spot where she’d last seen Seth. She couldn’t see him from behind closed doors.
“Hunters again,” Chad announced calmly. “Dad will get rid of them.”
She’d seen what misguided rifle shots could do to innocent bystanders. In a fury at the hunter’s carelessness, she ordered Chad to return to his room and reached for the phone. Did California have sheriffs?
Holding the phone, watching through the French doors, she saw Doug burst from his garage apartment, shouting obscenities as he loped down the hill where Seth had disappeared. Just as she wondered if she should call an ambulance, she watched Seth emerge near the stand of trees at the lawn’s edge. Damn, that man could move fast.
Pippa nearly swallowed her tongue as Seth dived into the trees, tackled a red-capped hunter, and rolled onto the lawn with him. The telephone in her hand beeped frantically at the incomplete connection.
In fascinated horror, she watched the hunter clip Seth with his rifle and make a break for the trees. Seth kicked his long legs, twisted, and hurled the other man to the ground again. Ouch. A fall like that had to hurt. When the hunter tried to rise, Seth used his fist to lay him out cold.
How had she thought herself safe in a household with a man who lost his temper and used his limbs for weapons?
As Doug slid down the hill to the trespasser, Pippa slowly lowered the receiver back to its hook. Maybe it was better if she didn’t call the sheriff just yet. Seth certainly appeared to have taken matters in hand. She winced as she watched Seth empty the rifle and break it against a tree.
Not her business, she decided, turning away from the sight and hurrying after Chad. She wondered if the warnings of Garden Grove’s inhabitants didn’t have a little more truth to them than she’d wanted to believe.
Seth Wyatt was definitely a dangerous man. And living with dangerous men could be hazardous to the health.
Chapter 10
“What if they don’t like me?” Chad whispered as Pippa rolled him up the ramp to the old high school gym Meg had recommended.
“They probably won’t if you throw a tantrum to get your way.” Pippa shrugged as she tipped the chair back over a broken piece of pavement. The incident with the hunter had faded with the break of day and under the importance of Chad’s introduction to town. “Whether they like you or not is entirely up to you. Scary, ain’t it?”
“Dad said you ain’t supposed to say ‘ain’t,’ “ Chad muttered, avoiding a reply.
“Just think about how you’d like to be treated, and treat other people the same way,” Pippa suggested, as if she’d been asked.
“They’ll be dorks,” he scoffed, watching the gray double doors with apprehension.
Pippa cuffed him affectionately. “You’re a dork.”
“Am not.”
“Am too.”
“You can’t say ‘am too’!”
Son of a writer, all right. She could push all his buttons. Grinning, Pippa halted before the nonautomatic steel doors. “Well, if we decide on this place, your father will have to do something about those doors. They must have been built in the prehistoric age.”
“By the dinosaurs!” Chad exclaimed happily, still entranced by his expedition to Jurassic Park at Universal.
Lord, but the boy could run the full scale of emotion in two minutes flat. He exhausted and exhilarated her at the same time. If it weren’t for her stubborn, irritable employer, she’d love this job.
Someone jerked the doors open from inside.
“There you are!” Meg jammed a door peg under one of the doors and helped pry the chair over the doorstep. “We thought you got lost.” Her eyes danced with curiosity as they quickly took in Chad’s militant expression and Pippa’s grin. “Did Durwood run you into another tree?”
“Doug brought us.” Determined to hold the center of attention, Chad jumped in unrepentantly. “The Rolls had a flat. Dad says the Mercedes won’t be delivered until Friday.”
Pippa knuckled his head. “Don’t speak until spoken to, and wait to be introduced.” She frowned at Mary Margaret’s raised eyebrows. “Mrs. Kelly, this is Chad Wyatt. Chad, this is Mrs. Kelly. Say ‘how do you do,’ scamp.”
“Why?” Chad demanded, turning to look at her over his shoulder, his thin face puckered in a studious frown. “It’s a silly question. How do you do what?”
Meg laughed,
grabbed the wheelchair from Pippa, and shoved it across the gym floor in the direction of a similarly chair-bound child.
“Tell Miss Cochran she needs to brush up on her training in dealing with six-year-olds,” Meg said gaily. “Just try to remember my name and I’ll be happy.”
“Mrs. Kelly,” Chad parroted agreeably, but his gaze had fixed on the other child.
“Right you are. And this is my son, Mikey.”
The two boys stared at each other.
Mikey finally broke the silence. “My mom says you’re filthy rich.”
Meg groaned, and Pippa laughed.
Chad took it in stride. “I’ve got the new Nintendo.”
“Cool. Could I play with it sometime?”
Meg shook her head and, grabbing Pippa’s elbow, steered her away. “Boys and toys. It never ends. Quit watching him as if he’s dancing on a cliff’s edge. He won’t fall off. Come look at what this place has. After all, that’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
Frowning, Pippa glanced over her shoulder. Chad was showing Mikey the buttons that spun his chair around. Maybe it would work. Maybe. If it didn’t, Seth would probably not only fire her, but kick her ass into the next county, and sue her for what little she possessed. She shivered and tried to remember if her liability insurance was paid up.
She hid her gloomy thoughts with more rational ones. “Okay, let’s see the place. It must be falling down if the school built a new one.”
“This was the original high school gym. It’s been here since 1940. The board replaced it last year and they want to tear it down and build a new middle school, but with the plant closing and everything, they’ve put it off. The middle school we have was built about the same time as this place.”
“Then they should have replaced it first,” Pippa said scornfully. “Typical, the athletes get first priority.”
“It’s more than that, so get your nose out of the air, Miss Priss.” Meg opened the doors to the locker room. “The high school gym is our community center. We get together for games, meetings, dances, graduations, everything and anything. Just like home.”
Pippa heard the warning in her friend’s voice. This might be California, a whole new world for her, but it was still a small town. She’d better watch what she did and said.
She hadn’t thought about it when she’d fled Billy and Kentucky, but she’d run smack-dab into a whole new life. She didn’t have to be Pollyanna Pippa, but somehow, she doubted she would be different. Now that she was away from the security of familiar people and surroundings, uncertainty gnawed at her underpinnings. She needed the “cheer up and smile” attitude to keep functioning.
“Do you have any idea what a physical therapy room needs?” Pippa asked as she surveyed the grim interior of peeling metal lockers and cement floors.
“Nope. I thought you did. You’re the RN.”
“Physical therapy is a whole ’nother degree.” Pippa stared glumly at a door sagging on one hinge, then carefully checked around the corner at the shower stalls. She grimaced. “Maybe six-year-olds don’t need to shower,” she offered hopefully.
“If we fix this place up, then it’s got to be for everyone,” Meg reminded her. “The school board can’t provide the entire facility for private use.”
“I suppose,” Pippa sighed. “How many others in this age group can we expect?”
Meg ticked the list off on her fingers. “Beth’s daughter lost her leg in a car accident last year. She’s eight. And if we count all disabilities, Toby has severe diabetes and needs a restricted exercise program. Anna’s arm is deformed by a birth defect. They’re all in the five-to-nine age group.”
“That’s a good start,” Pippa murmured as she inspected the remainder of the locker room. “We really need a swimming pool.”
“That’ll be the day.” Meg glanced out the door to see what the boys were doing. “The swim team uses the pool at the hotel.”
“That figures. Some things never change.” Remembering her own dream of being the next Olympic swim star when she was a kid, Pippa stalked back to the gym where the boys were racing their chairs across the warped floor. The rural high school she’d attended didn’t have a pool either. And there hadn’t been any friendly hotel pool available. “Seth has one going to waste. He never uses it. But he doesn’t want anyone up there.”
“It’s too far for most of the kids anyway. Their parents don’t have chauffeurs and Rollses to drive them around in. I figure I’ll end up picking most of them up in the van.”
“I doubt if a Mercedes or even a Rolls can hold many wheelchairs, but Doug can pick up the ones who don’t need chairs,” Pippa offered idly, without thinking about it.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Meg muttered. “The whole town is falling apart, and the Grim Reaper decides to build a gym. It will never happen.”
“Pessimist,” Pippa hissed.
“Optimist,” Meg hissed back.
They laughed at the old epithets.
Watching the boys cavorting like any two six-year-olds, Pippa vowed to make it happen. She’d almost swear Chad was losing the race on purpose. His state-of-the-art electronic chair could run circles around Mikey’s ancient one. This was precisely what Chad needed, even without the therapist.
“I’m interviewing three therapists tomorrow. Got any input?”
With determination, Pippa started taking notes. The Grim Reaper would just have to start acknowledging that a world existed outside his fortress—not that that world was a very friendly one, she realized. That hunter had to have known whose land he was on.
***
Pippa contemplated screening the therapists from the relative sanity of Meg’s kitchen, but Seth had insisted on sitting in on the interviews. Since she didn’t think her reclusive employer would appreciate the eyes of the town on him in the fishbowl of Meg’s home, she reluctantly arranged for the interviewees to visit the mansion.
The mentally challenged gardener accidentally anointed the first candidate with a hose, soaking her carefully hair-sprayed coiffeur. As Doug hastened to her rescue, the tiny blonde took one look at the hulking black ex-football player racing in her direction, screamed, and leapt back into her car. Pippa watched her screech her Civic down the drive and shook her head.
“No stamina,” she said as Doug stopped on the porch stairs and watched the car speed off.
Doug grunted. “If that means no brains, you’re right.”
Pippa grinned. “That’s what it means, all right. Let’s sic Chad on the next one.”
Doug threw her a suspicious look. “You ain’t supposed to be enjoyin’ this so damned much.”
“If I’m not, who is?” Lifting an eyebrow, Pippa returned his look with aplomb. This bachelor household didn’t need cute blondes swinging their hips around anyway.
The next candidate agilely dodged sprinklers, Doug’s menacing arm-crossed stance, Nana armed with blue wig and vacuum, and Chad’s mutinous “She’s butch” insult. Pippa gave the woman credit for keeping a cool head. But the newcomer’s reaction to Seth showed how little six-year-olds knew about sexual preferences.
Tall, blond, and stacked, the therapist stopped cold in her tracks as Seth stood to greet her.
“Why, Mr. Wyatt, I had no idea you were so young,” she purred.
As if a six-foot Amazon could purr, Pippa added to herself. And since the Amazon was clearly just out of college, and Seth was pushing his late thirties if she knew anything at all, the Amazon was lying through her gleaming, milk-fed white teeth. Thirty-somethings were ancient to twenty-two-year-olds.
Get a grip, Pippa, she muttered to herself as she gestured Miss Amazon toward a chair. Seth was a big boy. If he wanted to play with children’s toys, that was his business. She pulled out her clipboard of prepared questions.
Seth glowered silently, staring out the window as Pippa worked her way through the basics of education and experience. Other than having very little experience with children, Miss Amazon qualified on all counts
. Pippa still didn’t like the woman any better. She wished Seth would lend a hand here. He was the one who had insisted on sitting in on the interview. He was supposed to have corporate business experience. He ought to know how to ask those tricky questions that caught out the irresponsible types.
Diving into treacherous waters, Pippa threw away the prepared list and plunged into her own concerns. “You’ll be dealing primarily with a five-to-nine age group, both boys and girls. Your experience has been mostly with adults. Are you prepared to handle their hyperactive energy? How would you deal with a child who doesn’t cooperate?”
Miss Amazon smiled confidently. “I have two younger siblings and I baby-sat the neighbor’s children for years. When they got out of hand, I just bopped them on the rear or whacked their hands and they straightened out. Children need discipline.”
Pippa’s mouth dropped open. Too astonished to form a reply, she merely stared.
Seth reared up from his cave and towered over them. “The interview is over. You may go now.” He stalked out without further explanation.
Well, she’d have to give him credit for terminating an interview without wasted breath. Standing up, Pippa gestured toward the doorway.
The bewildered therapist looked from the doorway to Pippa and back again. Shaking her head, she stood up. “What did I say?”
“You just suggested physical abuse to the father of a child who is already physically damaged. I’d suggest you acquire a little experience dealing with children before seeking employment in this field. Corporal punishment might have its place; that’s not an issue I’m prepared to argue. I just know that it has no place with these kids. They’ve already suffered enough. Good day.”
Pippa watched her second candidate depart. If these were the best the area offered, what the hell was she going to do? Take physical therapy classes and teach them herself?
She found Seth stalking up and down her office, wearing a path in the Persian carpet. She liked that carpet. The browns and golds had faded and blended into a pattern that intrigued her imagination. It would be nothing but bare threads if he didn’t halt soon.
Blue Clouds Page 9