Vaguely she heard Cade close his book and cross the room. He stood beside her and they both watched Mother Nature's display in rapt silence. Finally she spoke.
“It’s so beautiful. Don’t you think?”
“Yes.” Something about his tone made her glance up and she caught him watching her instead of the sunset. He reached out and took one of her curls in his hand. “Just like burnished copper.”
She smiled up at him shyly. “I was talking about the sunset.”
His eyes crinkled and a smile played at the corners of his mouth. She was flirting with him and he knew it. She could see it in his eyes.
She tugged the curl from his hand and turned to the old piano as a diversion tactic.
“Did your mother play?”
He nodded. “Do you?”
She laughed softly. “Chop sticks.”
A brow quirked and he motioned to the bench. “Have a seat. Let’s play a duet, then.”
She made her way clumsily through one episode and then watched as his long fingers moved gracefully over the keys. The tune was haunting and yet somehow soothing. He coaxed one melody after another from the old piano until finally he folded the lid down.
“That’s enough. I don’t want to bore you to death. It’s getting late.”
“I’m not bored, but it is getting late.”
“And tomorrow is a long day. I’m trying to get everything caught up so I can spend a little time with Claudette.”
“Are you beginning to looking forward to seeing her?”
He shook his head and ran his fingers along the rich top of the piano. “No.”
"But she’s your sister. You must have had some good times.”
“Not really.” He stretched. “See you in the morning.”
She watched his tall figure move gracefully down the hall, forcing unwelcome warmth to crawl up her neck. Some people lived their entire lives without ever being close to anyone. Maybe he simply wasn’t capable of having a relationship deeper than surface friendship. At any rate, it was none of her business. A fact he had made abundantly clear.
When Claudette arrived, the room was finished and the house in order. Cade answered the door and ushered his sister into the family room where Cynthia was doing some last minute dusting. She glanced up as they entered - and then stared.
Claudette was a knockout. She had large brown eyes with thick black lashes and matching hair that was stacked becomingly on top of her head. From her long neck to her slender ankles, Claudette was dainty and feminine. Her rosebud mouth curved into a smile that never reached her eyes. She was attached to the arm of good-looking man wearing a business suit.
Cade made the introductions.
“This is Cynthia Turley. I hired her as a housekeeper a few months ago. Cynthia, this is Claudette Lander and her husband Carl.”
Cynthia offered a hand to Carl and he accepted it cordially. “Nice to meet you,” he said. “I didn’t know Russell had a maid.”
Claudette glanced around the room. “It’s about time he did something with this old house.” Finally her gaze came back to Cynthia. “I assume you’re the one responsible for the new look. Nice job.”
Cade was standing behind Claudette and her husband. He winked and made the OK hand sign. Obviously the room had passed an important inspection. He picked up the luggage.
“I’ll show you where you will sleep while Cynthia gets supper on the table.”
Supper was ready and the table set. Cindy carefully laid out the food in an attractive manner and retired to the kitchen. A few minutes later Cade popped his head around the door.
“Is everything ready?”
“Yes. It’s all on the table. Go ahead and eat. I’ll bring desert in after a little while.”
He frowned and stepped into the kitchen. “You’re not eating? Are you feeling ill?”
“No. I’ll eat later.”
He shook his head. “No. You’ll eat with us.”
“But it wouldn’t be proper. I’m the hired help.”
He scowled at her. “I don’t care. You eat with us. That’s an order.”
“Yes sir.”
“And none of that yes sir stuff, either. I want someone who can contribute intelligent conversation, not grovel at my feet.”
She lifted her brows. “And so you asked me? Don’t you think you’re setting yourself up for a disappointment?”
His eyes twinkled and he jabbed a thumb at the dining room. “Save the smart talk for later. Get on in there and set yourself a place - or do I have to do that?”
She wrinkled her nose at him as she brushed by and he tugged playfully at her hair. She quirked a brow and made an exaggerated point of putting her hair back in order, tossing her head pertly and smiling up at him.
Claudette and Carl were waiting patiently in the dining room when Cynthia and Cade entered. Sobering, Cynthia addressed them.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I didn’t realize I was supposed to dine with you. Go ahead and take a seat while I set another place.”
Ignoring the raised brow that Claudette gave her husband, Cynthia hastily set another place and graciously submitted to improper treatment as Cade helped her with her chair and then seated himself. It was hard to tell whether he was trying to impress his sister or shock her. Somehow the latter seemed more likely with Cade.
During and after supper, conversation seemed to continually migrate back to Cynthia. Were the Landers actually interested in her mundane life, or was there some other reason for their questions? The evening was long and she was grateful when Cade announced he was going to bed.
Once she was certain Cade and his guests were comfortable, she retreated to her room with a book. She wasn’t actually tired, but reading was relaxing. Inside the quiet room, the balcony beckoned, so she slid the patio door open and stepped out into the balmy night. She leaned on the banister and breathed deeply of the clean air. Down by the pond, frogs were singing their night songs and the sky was filled with bright stars. Somewhere out on the range a lone wolf called, its eerie howl reminding the intruding humans that they had not yet won. She sighed contentedly. This was heaven on earth. How could it get any better? And then she thought of Cade. A cool breeze touched the warmth of her cheeks. Why couldn’t she stop thinking of him that way? What was it about him that attracted her so? No matter how often she asked herself the question, the answer remained elusive. Could it be that his stoic personality was the very thing that kept her interest perked? People always wanted what seemed unobtainable. Was that the case? If he returned her affection, would she grow tired of him?
She turned away from the beauty of the ranch, reminding herself that she had made the decision to leave. How could she stay, feeling as she did about Cade? Sooner or later it would become obvious to Cade himself. And then what would he do - suggest she find attention elsewhere? So many questions and so few answers. She settled into the old rocker and snapped on the lamp. A few chapters would take her mind off Cade.
But it didn’t, and even when she slept, she dreamed of him again. This time they were on the balcony, gazing into the night, his arm around her waist. She snuggled against his body, but this time when she lifted her lips for his affection, he laughed.
She woke with a start. She rolled over and punched her pillow. Now that was a good example of her imagination working over time. Cade laughing? Did Cade secretly laugh at the way she flirted with him? The idea brought a rush of heat to her neck. She tossed her head to throw the curls from her face and rolled over in bed. Stop thinking about him. It was that simple. All she had to do was put her mind to it.
The clock ticked away the minutes and she finally sat up and squinted at it - four-thirty. What time would Cade want to get up this morning? She threw back the covers. She might as well shower and dress. She wasn’t going to be able to sleep any more.
With her bed made, she crept down the stairs and across the family room floor. A sliver of light under Cade’s door suggested he was already awake.
She quietly crossed to the kitchen and put some water on the stove for coffee. Scruffy was meowing at the kitchen door. Taking a zip-lock bag of scraps from the refrigerator, she opened the door and stepped out into the cool dawn. Scruffy limped to the bowl and she kneeled beside him.
“Come here, kitty. What’s the matter with your foot?”
She lifted the cat to her lap and turned so the light from the doorway would fall on the foot. One of the claws was ripped almost completely out. She shuddered.
“Poor little thing. What happened? Did you get caught in a trap?”
A tall figure darkened the doorway and she looked up to find Cade watching her. He knelt beside her and reached for the cat.
“Let me look at him.”
To her surprise, the cat gave him no resistance. Cade examined the claw and stood. “I have some salve in the barn. Let’s go put some on it.”
“Should we bandage it?”
His features twisted into what might have passed for a wry smile. “Bandages are for humans, not animals - not for things like this, anyway. He’ll limp around for a week or so and then he’ll be fine.”
She smiled up at him. “You like him, don’t you?”
He eyed her sourly. “I hate cats.”
“Right. That’s obvious. “Her smile broadened into a grin as she reached for the cat. “Come on scruffy. Daddy wants to fix your foot.”
Cade handed her the cat and cuffed her playfully. She giggled and cuddled the cat close. “He’s so soft. Don’t you think he’s cute?”
“Yeah,” he commented dryly as they turned toward the barn. “You’ve been around that furry thing so long that you’re beginning to look like him.” He reached out and brushed her hair away from her face. “You’re even getting hair in your ears.”
She made a face and he smiled. Not a twitch of the mouth or a brief glimpse of teeth, but a regular smile. She caught her breath, realizing for the first time that he was actually an attractive man. How sad that his smile was so rare.
“Do you realize that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you smile? You have a lovely smile, you know that?”
“Get out of here.” The smile was replaced by a surge of color as he jerked the barn door open. “Let’s get that paw fixed and then go in. I’m about to starve to death.”
CHAPTER SIX
By the end of the second day, she had adapted to the guests and felt completely at ease - a state that Claudette apparently wanted to shatter. Cynthia was peeling potatoes when Claudette wandered into the kitchen. Cynthia glanced up and smiled warmly.
“Can I get you something?”
“No. As a matter of fact, you’ve spoiled us both and we’ll never be able to get along with our present housekeeper again.”
Cynthia laughed. “Oh, she can’t be that bad.”
Claudette shrugged. “No, you’re just that good.”
“Thanks.”
Claudette laced her fingers and leaned against the counter, eyeing Cynthia with a puzzled expression.
“You know, I’ve never seen Russie look so fit. You two seem to get along well together.”
“Most of the time.”
Claudette arched well maintained brows. “How well?”
Her intent was obvious, but Cynthia decided to play dumb. “Oh, we disagree now and then, but we never come to blows.”
Claudette rolled her eyes. “No, that wasn’t what I meant.” She moved away from the counter. “Of course, what goes on between you two in this big lonely house when no one else is around is between the two of you.”
It would be disrespectful of Cade for her to do anything but defend his honor. She rinsed a potato and dropped it in the kettle.
“Mrs. Lander,” she began in a cordial tone. “There is nothing going on between Mr. Cade and me that anyone isn’t welcome to watch. I am the housekeeper, not his mistress.”
Claudette's laugh was short. “Maybe so, but I’ve seen the way you look at him when you forget yourself. You’d like to be his housekeeper all right - and more, I suspect.”
Cynthia didn’t dignify her statement with an answer. Any denial would be immediately detected as a lie, anyway. At the moment, it was her honor at stake, not Cade’s. She completed peeling another potato and rinsed it before Claudette finally gave up on a response with an audible sigh.
“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, I suppose. Russie is a lost cause. I mean, he isn’t interested in women.”
Cynthia jerked her head around and stared at Claudette. What kind of comment was that to make about her brother? And what, exactly, did she mean?
Claudette frowned. “Surely you’ve heard. He likes guys. He’s gay.”
Confusion flooded Cynthia’s mind, drowning her in doubt and questions. Was it possible? No. It didn’t fit in with anything Mary had said. And yet, Claudette was his sister. Maybe...no.
“Your brother’s sexual preferences are none of my business.”
Claudette stared at her. “Russie? He’s not my real brother. He’s not even a Cade. You mean you didn’t know that, either?” She shook her head and clicked her tongue against the top of her mouth. “Russie has been keeping secrets from you. I wonder why?”
Cynthia picked up another potato and eviscerated an eye. “No, I didn’t know. And it’s none of my business. And Mr. Cade has done nothing to make me think he is anything but a normal man who simply enjoys his solitude.” She felt sick to her stomach. Was it possible that Cade actually was a homosexual? Was it wishful thinking that made her so certain that he wasn’t?
Claudette shrugged her lovely shoulders. “Well, he did spend a lot of time with his mother. She was such a strange woman - just like Russie. I never did understand why Dad married her. Did you know she actually spun the wool to knit sweaters? I mean it wasn’t like we didn’t have the money to buy clothes or anything like that. And that old furniture she brought here. Dad would have given her anything she wanted. He was crazy about her. She hated this house, though. Not that I blame her.” She glanced at Cynthia. “Oh, you have it fixed up nice, but don’t you think it’s a monstrosity?”
“No. As a matter of fact, I think it has character.”
“Anyway,” Claudette continued. “When Dad died, he left this ranch to his wife and stepson and his fortune went to the rest of us kids.” Claudette turned her palms to the air. “As far as I’m concerned, good riddance to the ranch.”
Cynthia frowned. “You have other sisters and brothers?”
Claudette nodded. “A brother in Maine and a sister in Washington DC.”
The diversion didn’t last long. Claudette brushed some lint from the bodice of her dress. “Like I said, Russie’s mother was always strange, but after Dad died, she really became eccentric. Locked herself in her room for days working on layette sets for the grand children Russie would never provide. I actually felt a little sorry for her. It was so pathetic. Anyway she finally got so lonely and depressed that she locked herself in her room one day and shot herself. Russie came home that night and found her.”
The mental picture of Cade finding his mother that way made Cynthia’s stomach lurch uncomfortably. So that was why Cade felt responsible for his mothers’ death. How sad. She thought of the layette sets in the chest. Obviously Cade’s mother didn’t subscribe to the gay story - or was that what finally drove her over the edge? Yet Cade had kept the baby clothes - and the furniture.
Claudette shook her head. “That’s when Russie got the ranch.” She made a face. “Now he’s as strange as his mother was. Hanging on to this place and working it like a cowboy. I don’t know why he doesn’t he get the proper equipment and run it like a modern ranch. I swear, sometimes I think he’s completely against progress.”
Cynthia began slicing the potatoes in the pot. “I think this place is beautiful, and apparently the ranch is paying for itself. At any rate, Mr. Cade seems to be happy with his lifestyle. Who are we to suggest that it’s wrong?”
“He’s such a hermit. Everyone laughs behind his back. I
t’s so embarrassing. Every year I come out here and try to convince him to get with the times, but it’s to no avail. I guess he enjoys the privacy of isolation. That way he can do what he wants and who’s to know? He doesn’t date. Would you believe he covers up with the excuse that he’s saving himself for one special girl?” She laughed in a single expulsion of air. “I mean, he’s a twenty eight year old man, for heavens’ sake. If he hasn’t been with a woman, it’s probably because he’s had other ways of ...” She let her voice trail of suggestively and shrugged again.
Cynthia ran water in the pot. “Why is it virtuous for a woman to practice chastity, and ludicrous for a man? I share his philosophy and no one has accused me of...enjoying the same sex.”
Claudette digested the response reflectively and finally lifted her shoulders in a graceful shrug again.
“You defend him because you work for him and you’re a loyal employee, but I’ll bet you’ve wondered why he’s so unresponsive.”
Cynthia didn’t answer. It was a loaded statement. If she said he was responsive, Claudette would assume something was going on. If she confirmed that Cade was unresponsive she would be as much as endorsing an ugly rumor. Because Cade was so reclusive and entertained controversial ideas, he was a target for that kind of gossip. But it didn’t fit the man she had come to know, and she wasn’t about to believe it simply because he hadn’t made a pass at her yet. She’d like to give Claudette a piece of her mind, but that would be unprofessional. It was Cade’s house and sister. As the hired help, she was supposed to be supportive of Cade without upsetting Claudette.
Claudette dropped the subject and Cynthia thought it would never be brought up again. She was wrong - as usual. The very next day she was straining over the counter to reach behind the stove when Cade came into the kitchen.
Courtship of the Recluse Page 6