by Diana Palmer
It disturbed him somehow that Kasie was cherished by another man who could give her anything she wanted. “He must be a great deal older than she is,” he murmured absently.
“He doesn’t have those kind of feelings for her,” she said quietly, and there was pain in her soft eyes. “He missed out on family life and children. I think he’s sorry about that now. He tried to get her to come and stay with him in Mexico until she got over losing her twin, but she wouldn’t go.”
“One of her other character references was a Catholic priest.”
She nodded. “Father Vincent, in Tucson, Arizona. He was the priest for our small parish.” She sighed. “Kasie hasn’t been to mass since her brother died. I’ve been so worried about her.”
“She mentioned taking the girls with her to church,” Gil said after a minute. “If I can get her to come back to work for me, it might be the catalyst to help her heal.”
“It might at that,” she agreed.
Gil took another cookie and nibbled it. “These are good.”
“My one kitchen talent,” she said. “I can make cookies. Otherwise, I live on TV dinners and the kindness of friends who can cook.”
He sipped cocoa and thought. “How can I get her to go back with me?” he asked after a minute.
“Tell her the girls are crying themselves to sleep at night,” she suggested gently. “She misses Sandy even more than her twin. She and the little girl were very close.”
“She’s close to my girls,” he remarked with a reminiscent smile. “If there’s a storm or they get frightened in the night, I can always find them curled up in Kasie’s arms.” His voice seemed to catch on the words. He averted his eyes toward the hallway. “The light went out of the house when she left it.”
She wondered if he even realized what he was saying. Probably not. Men seemed to miss things that women noticed at once.
“I’ll go and get her,” she said, pushing back her chair. “You can sit by my fishpond and talk with the goldfish.”
“My uncle used to have one,” he recalled, standing. “I haven’t had one built because of the girls. When they’re older, I’d like to put in another one.”
“I had to dig it myself, and I’m not the woman I used to be. It’s only a little over a foot deep. One of my neighbors gave me his used pond heater when he bought a new one. It keeps my four goldfish alive all winter long.” She moved to the door. “It’s just outside the back door, near the birdbath. I’ll send Kasie out to you.”
He went out, his hands in his pockets, thinking how little he’d known about Kasie. It might be impossible for them to regain the ground they’d lost, but he wanted to try. His life was utterly empty without her in it.
Mama Luke knocked gently at Kasie’s door and waited until it opened. Kasie looked at her guiltily.
“I was rude. I’m sorry,” she told the older woman.
“I didn’t come to fuss,” Mama Luke said. She touched Kasie’s disheveled hair gently. “I want you to go out and talk to Mr. Callister. He feels bad about the things he said to you. He wants you to go back to work for him.”
Kasie gave her aunt a belligerent look. “In his dreams,” she muttered.
“The little girls miss you very much,” she said.
Kasie grimaced. “I miss them, too.”
“Go on out there and face your problem squarely,” Mama Luke coaxed. “He’s a reasonable man, and he’s had a few shocks today. Give him a chance to make it up to you. He’s nice,” she added. “I like him.”
“You like everybody, Mama Luke,” Kasie said softly.
“He’s out by the goldfish pond. And don’t push him in,” she added with a wicked little smile.
Kasie chuckled. “Okay.”
She took a deep breath and went down the hall. But her hands trembled when she opened the back door and walked outside. She hadn’t realized how much she was going to miss Gil Callister until she was out of his life. Now she had to decide whether or not to risk going back. It wasn’t going to be an easy decision.
Chapter 9
Gil was sitting on the small wooden bench overlooking the rock-bordered oval fishpond, his elbows resting on his knees as he peered down thoughtfully into the clear water where water lilies bloomed in pink and yellow profusion. He looked tired, Kasie thought, watching him covertly. Maybe he’d been away on business and not on holiday with Pauline after all.
He looked up when he heard her footsteps. He got to his feet. He looked elegant even in that yellow polo shirt and beige slacks, she thought. He wasn’t at all handsome, but his face was masculine and he had a mouth that she loved kissing. She averted her eyes until she was able to control the sudden impulse to run to him. Wouldn’t that shock him, she thought sadly.
He looked wary, and he wasn’t smiling. He studied her for a long time, as if he’d forgotten what she looked like and wanted to absorb every detail of her.
“How are the girls?” she asked quietly. “Is Bess going to be all right?”
“Bess is fine,” he replied. “She told me everything.” He grimaced. “Even Pauline admitted that she’d told you to go and have lunch with what’s-his-name, and she’d watch the girls. She said she slipped and tripped Bess. I imagine it’s the truth. She’s never been much of a liar, regardless of her faults,” he returned, his voice flat, without expression. “They told me you phoned the hospital to make sure Bess was all right.”
“I was worried,” she said, uneasy.
He toyed with the change in his pocket, making it jingle. “Bess wanted you, in the hospital. When I told her you’d gone home, she and Jenny both started crying.” The memory tautened his face. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry that I blamed you.”
She’d never wanted to believe anything as much as that apology. But it was still disturbing that he’d accused her without proof, that he’d assumed Bess’s accident was her fault. She wanted to go back in the house. But that wouldn’t solve the problem. She had to try and forget. He was here and he’d apologized. They had to go from there. “It’s all right,” she said after a minute, her eyes on the fish instead of him. “I understand. You can’t help it that you don’t like me.”
“Don’t…like you?” he asked. The statement surprised him.
She toyed with the hem of her shirt. “You never wanted to hire me in the first place, really,” she continued. “You looked at me as if you hated me the minute you saw me.”
His eyes were thoughtful. “Did I?” He didn’t want to pursue that line of conversation. It was too new, too disturbing, after having realized how he felt about her. “Why do you call your aunt Mama Luke?” he asked to divert her.
“Because when I was five, I couldn’t manage Sister Mary Luke Bernadette,” she replied. “She was Mama Luke from then on.”
He winced. “That’s a young age to lose both parents.”
“That’s why I know how Bess and Jenny feel,” she told him.
His expelled breath was audible. “I’ve made a hell of a mess of it, haven’t I, Kasie?” he asked somberly. “I jumped to the worst sort of conclusions.”
She moved awkwardly to the other side of the fishpond and wrapped her arms around her body. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I knew you didn’t trust Pauline to take care of the girls, but I let myself be talked into leaving them with her. You were right. Bess could have drowned and it would have been my fault.”
“Stick the knife right in, don’t be shy,” he said through his teeth. His blue eyes glittered. “God knows, I deserve it.”
Her eyes met his, wide with curiosity. “I don’t understand.”
She probably didn’t. “Never mind.” He stuck his hands into his pockets. “I fired Pauline.”
“But…!”
“It wasn’t completely because of what happened in Nassau. I need someone full-time,” he interrupted. “She only wanted the job in the first place so that she could be near me.”
The breeze blew her hair across her mouth. She pushed it back behind her ea
r. “That must have been flattering.”
“It was, at first,” he agreed. “I’ve known Pauline for a long time, and her attention was flattering. However, regardless of how Bess fell into the water, Pauline didn’t make a move to rescue her. I can’t get over that.”
Kasie understood. She’d have been in the pool seconds after Bess fell in, despite the fact that she couldn’t swim.
His piercing blue eyes caught hers. “Yes, I know. You’d have been right in after her,” he said softly, as if he’d read the thought in her mind. “Even if you’d had to be rescued as well,” he added gently.
“People react differently to desperate situations,” she said.
“Indeed they do.” His eyes narrowed. “I want you to come back. So do the girls. I’ll do whatever it takes. An apology, a raise in salary, a paid vacation to Tahiti…”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind coming back,” she said. “I do miss the girls, terribly. But…”
“But, what?”
She met his level gaze. “You don’t trust me,” she said simply, and her eyes were sad. “At first you thought I was trying to get to you through the girls, and then you thought I wanted them out of the way. In Nassau, you thought I left them alone for selfish reasons, so that I could go on a lunch date.” She smiled sadly. “You have a bad opinion of me as a governess. What if I mess up again? Maybe it would be better if we just left things the way they are.”
The remark went through him like hot lead. He hadn’t trusted Kasie because she was so mysterious about her past. Now that he knew the truth about her, knew of the tragedies she’d suffered in her young life, lack of trust was no longer going to be a problem. But how did he tell her that? And, worse, how did he make up for the accusations he’d made? Perhaps he could tell her the truth.
“The girls’ last governess was almost too good to be true,” he began. “She charmed the girls, and me, until we’d have believed anything she told us. It was all an act. She had marriage in mind, and she actually threatened me with my own children. She said they were so attached to her that if I didn’t marry her, she’d leave and they’d hate me.”
She blinked. “That sounds as if she was a little unbalanced.”
He nodded, his eyes cold with remembered bitterness. “Yes, she was. She left in the middle of the night, and the next morning the girls were delighted to find her gone.”
He shook his head. “She was unstable, and I’d left the kids in her hands. It was such a blot on my judgment that I didn’t trust it anymore. Especially when you came along, with your mysterious past and your secrets. I thought you were playing up to me because I was rich.”
It hurt that he’d thought so little of her. “I see.”
“Do you? I hope so,” he replied heavily, and with a smile. “Because if I go back to Medicine Ridge without you, I wouldn’t give two cents for my neck. John’s furious with me. He’s got company. Miss Parsons glares at me constantly. Mrs. Charters won’t serve me anything that isn’t burned. The girls are the worst, though,” he mused. “They ignore me completely. I feel like the ogre in that story you read them at bedtime.”
“Poor ogre,” she said quietly.
He began to smile. He loved the softness of her voice when she spoke. For the first time since his arrival, he was beginning to think he had a chance. “Feeling sorry for me?” he asked gently. “Good. If I wear on your conscience, maybe you’ll feel sorry enough to come home with me.”
She frowned. “What did Mama Luke tell you?” she asked suddenly.
“Things you should have told me,” he replied, his tone faintly acidic. “She told me everything, in fact, except why you don’t like the water.”
She stared down into the fishpond, idly watching the small goldfish swim in and out of the vegetation. “When I was five, just before my parents were…killed,” she said, sickened by the memory, “one of my friends at the mission in Africa got swept into the river. I saw her drown.”
“You’ve had a lot of tragedy in your young life,” he said softly. He moved a step closer to her, and another, stopping when he was close enough to lift a lean hand and smooth his fingers down her soft cheek. “I’ve had my own share of it. Suppose we forget the past few weeks, and start over. Can you?”
Her eyes were troubled. “I don’t know if it’s wise,” she said after a minute. “Letting the girls get attached to me again, I mean.”
His fingers traced her wide, soft mouth. “It’s too late to stop that from happening. They miss you terribly. So do I,” he added surprisingly. He tilted her chin up and bent, brushing his lips tenderly over her mouth. His heavy eyebrows drew together at the delight that shafted through him from the contact. “When I think of you, I think of butterflies and rainbows,” he whispered against her mouth. “I hated the world until you came to work for John. You brought the light in with you. You made me laugh. You made me believe in miracles. Don’t leave me, Kasie.”
He was saying something, more than words. She drew back and searched his narrow, glittery eyes. “Leave…you?” she questioned the wording.
“You don’t have an ego at all, do you?” he asked somberly. “Is it inconceivable that I want you back as much as my girls do?”
Her heart jumped. She’d missed him beyond bearing. But if she went back, could she ever be just an employee again? She remembered the hard warmth of his mouth in passion, the feel of his arms holding her like a warm treasure. She hesitated.
“I don’t seduce virgins,” he whispered wickedly. “If that wins me points.”
She flushed. “I wasn’t thinking about that!”
He smiled. “Yes, you were and that’s the main reason I won’t seduce you.”
“Thanks a lot.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You might sound a little more grateful,” he told her. “Keeping my hands off you lately has been a world-class study in restraint.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
She was unworldly. He loved that about her. He loved the way she blushed when he teased her, the way she made his heart swell when she smiled. He’d been lonely without her.
“But I’ll promise to keep my distance,” he added gently. “If you’ll just come back.”
She bit her lower lip worriedly. She did need the job. She loved the girls. She was crazy about Gil. But there were so many complications…
“Stop weighing the risks,” he murmured. “Say yes.”
“I still think…”
“Don’t think,” he whispered, placing a long forefinger over her lips. “Don’t argue. Don’t look ahead. We’re going to go home and you’re going to read the girls to sleep every night. They miss their stories.”
“Don’t you read to them?” she asked, made curious by a certain note in his voice.
“Sure, but they’re getting tired of Green Eggs and Ham.”
“They have loads of other books besides Dr. Seuss,” she began.
He glowered at her. “They hid all the other books, including Green Eggs and Ham, but at least I remember most of that story. So they get told it every night. Two weeks of that and I can’t even look at ham in the grocery story anymore without gagging…”
She was laughing uproariously.
“This is not funny,” he pointed out.
“Oh, yes, it is,” she said, and laughed some more.
He loved the sound. It reminded him of wind chimes. His heart ached for her. “Come home before I get sick of eggs, too.”
“All right,” she said. “I guess I might as well. I can’t live here with Mama Luke forever.”
“She’s a character,” he remarked with a smile. “A blunt and honest lady with a big heart. I like her.”
“She must like you, too, or she wouldn’t have threatened to have you break down my bedroom door.”
He pursed his lips. “Nice to have an ally with divine connections.”
“She does, never doubt it,” she told him, laughing. “I’ll just go throw a few things into my suitcase.”
He watched her go with joy shooting through his veins like fireworks. She was coming back. He’d convinced her.
Now all he had to do was make her see him as something more than an intolerant, judgmental boss. That was not going to be the easiest job he’d ever tackled.
Kasie kissed Mama Luke goodbye and waited while she hugged Gil impulsively.
“Take care of Kasie,” her aunt told him.
He nodded slowly. “This time, I’ll do better at that.”
Mama Luke smiled.
They got into his black Jaguar and drove away, with Kasie leaning out the window and waving until her aunt was out of sight.
Gil watched her eyes close as she leaned back against the leather headrest. “Sleepy?”
“Yes,” she murmured. “I haven’t slept well since I came back from Nassau.”
“Neither have I, Kasie,” he said.
Her head turned and she looked at him quietly. It made her tingle all over. He was really a striking man, all lean strength and authority. She’d never felt as safe with anyone as she did with him.
He felt her eyes on him; warm, soft gray eyes that gave him pleasure when he met them. Kasie was unlike anyone he’d ever known.
“Did Pauline finish keying in the herd records to the computer before she left?” she asked, suddenly remembering the chore that had been left when they went to Nassau.
“She hasn’t been around since we came home,” he said evasively. “I think she’s visiting an aunt in Vermont.”
She traced a line down the seat belt that stretched across her torso. “I thought you were going to marry her.”
He had a good idea where she’d heard that unfounded lie. “Never in this lifetime,” he murmured. “Pauline isn’t domestic.”
“She’s crazy about you.”
“The girls don’t like her.”
She pursed her lips. “I see.”
He chuckled, glancing at her while they stopped for a red light. “Besides, after they found out that I’d fired you, they made Pauline’s life hell. Their latest escapade was to leave her a nice present in her pocketbook.”