by Melody Anne
“Well, I guess you’ll be moving to Oregon, then. I hope you’ll enjoy it here. It rains … a lot.” Whitney got up from her seat to get away from this man. She immediately began ushering him toward the front door.
“Ms. Steele, my father isn’t in good health, and this may very well be his last chance to see the children. Please don’t deny him this — not after he just learned of losing his son.”
Whitney wanted nothing more than to throw him out without another word, but that wasn’t who she was. This man had hit her where it hurt — in her kind heart.
“Okay, Mr. Felton. I’ll look over your documents. I promise you. But you can tell your father that I highly doubt we’ll ever meet.”
“Please, at least ask the children,” he said. “I understand you have guardianship over them, but we are their family as well.”
“I told you that I’ll think about it. If I feel that the children should hear about this, I’ll talk to them. They’ve been through a lot, though, and I don’t want to upset them any further. I can’t give you any more than that right now.”
“I understand, Ms. Steele. Please let me know your decision quickly. The holidays are approaching, and my father, as I told you, is in a weak state right now.”
She didn’t say anything more; she just shut the door in the man’s face. She exhaled as she leaned against the sturdy frame. She wasn’t in any way qualified to make the kind of decisions required for Brayden and Ally. She was only twenty-five years old, and it seemed as if something new happened every day, something confirming that she wasn’t fit to raise her niece and nephew. She didn’t know what the right decision was.
Her baking was already a lost cause, so she sat back down at the kitchen island to look at the papers Mr. Felton had left. She’d be completely irresponsible if she didn’t even look through the information. After all, if the kids did have more family out there, didn’t she owe them the chance to get acquainted?
A shudder ran through her as she examined the paperwork. And then she went to her computer. Her fear intensified as she did her search.
The Feltons appeared to be from old money — true American blue bloods — and they certainly hadn’t fallen on hard times at any point in their history. They were multibillionaires out of New York, owners of a media conglomerate.
Who in the world had her sister married?
Why hadn’t Vince told Maxine where he came from? Was he ashamed of his family? Were they horrible people he hadn’t wanted his children to know? Whitney decided that she’d better try to find out a heck of a lot more before the kids got home.
By the time she was finished surfing the Web, she was sitting back in her chair and chewing her nails, wondering what she was going to do. What if this family wanted to keep the kids because they decided she was unfit to raise them? Her niece and nephew seemed to be potential heirs to a great fortune. Wouldn’t they want to be a part of that life?
But didn’t the rich raise their children at a distance, with nannies and in boarding schools? Sometimes it was worse than the old line that “Children should be seen and not heard,” because sometimes they weren’t even seen. Weren’t her sister’s children better off being raised with love instead of wealth? She wished more than ever before that Maxine were there to guide her, to help her make the right choice. Of course, if Maxine were there, she wouldn’t be faced with this burdensome decision.
She finally concluded that the best thing to do would be to ask the children. If they really wanted to see their grandfather and their uncle, then she’d take them across the country to New York state. What else could she do? Her fear of losing them didn’t give her the right to be selfish and keep them all to herself. Life kept dealing her bad cards, but she’d do her best to win the game and to get herself and the children through it all.
She heard the front door open, and laughter spilled from her niece as Brayden and Ally came rushing around the corner.
“Hi, Aunt Whitney,” Ally burbled.
“What’s that look for, darling girl?”
As Ally jumped into her lap, Whitney held her close to her chest, so afraid she was about to lose this beloved child and her dear brother.
“I have a present for you, Auntie,” Ally told her, giggling in her delight.
“Oh, that’s so wonderful! Do I get to open it now?”
“No, Aunt Whitney,” Ally said firmly. “You have to wait until Christmas morning.”
“Okay, sweetie, if I have to wait, I’ll wait,” Whitney replied before tickling her niece affectionately. She was fighting back tears and praying that this connection wasn’t going to end anytime soon.
“Mercy,” Ally cried, and Whitney stopped. Then she directed her attention toward her nephew, who was sitting on the other end of the island and not looking at either of them.
“Take off your headphones, Brayden. I need to talk to you both.”
“What is it?” he groused.
“Someone came to see me today,” she told them. “It seems your father has some close relatives who are alive, but they live on the other side of the country. They want to meet you both, and to spend this Christmas with you.”
“If they want to see us so badly, where have they been all of our lives?” Brayden asked with open resentment.
“I don’t know, really. It seems that there was some kind of disagreement — umm, that sort of thing happens all the time in families — and they didn’t know about the two of you. They just learned of your father’s passing. They’re grieving. As you know, it’s never easy to lose people you love. And they would like to know you, their family,” Whitney said. “You have a grandpa and an uncle that I know of. I don’t know how many other relatives.”
“I have a grandpa?” Ally almost squealed.
Yes, Whitney knew her loving niece would want to see these relations. She’d love them no matter who they were.
The decision really lay with Brayden. The two of them looked at each other, and she could see the emotion he was trying so desperately to keep inside. It was obvious that he too wanted to meet these people, but he was still so hurt, and not willing to give his trust too readily.
“I don’t really care about stupid relatives I’ve never met before,” Brayden said after a long silence. “But it would be kind of cool to travel somewhere, and at least get out of this place for a little while.”
On the plus side, the boy was showing some emotion other than anger, Whitney thought.
“Do you want to sleep on it before you decide?” she asked them both, almost wishing they’d decide not to go.
“You’d be coming with us, right?” Brayden said, apparently in a bit of a panic. Was he thinking that maybe his aunt was trying to ship them off and be rid of them? Did he care?
“Of course I would, Brayden. You know how much I love you and your sister. I’m in no way trying to abandon you guys.” She saw his shoulders relax. As much as he fought her, she knew he loved her as much as she loved him.
“Well, I really don’t want to be in this house for Christmas,” Brayden said. “Last year sucked, let me tell you.”
“Okay, I’ll call your uncle and let him know we’ll accept their kind offer,” Whitney told them. “I’m not sure when he and your grandfather will want us to go off on the big trip.”
“Is my grandpa nice?” Ally asked.
Whitney looked at this beautiful, innocent child, and even more grief filled her.
“I’m sure he’s a good man. And being around you would only bring out the best in him.” She had to hope that what she’d said was the truth.
“I can’t wait,” Ally said. She bounced from Whitney’s lap and leaped up the stairs.
“Remember, I said I don’t know how soon we’ll be going,” Whitney called after her, but it was too late. The little girl was most likely already packing a bag.
“Are you sure about this, Brayden?”
He stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m not sure about them at all. But I’m more than
sure I’d like to get out of this awful house.” And he too bounded up the stairs.
Would there be no end to fighting tears? Whitney pulled out the card Mr. Felton had left and dialed his number. He answered on the first ring, then told her the private jet would be ready to depart as soon as she was ready and had the children packed.
It was all moving way too fast.
Chapter Four
Kids, you have to hurry. The car is already waiting in the driveway.”
The last few days had gone by in a blur, what with getting assignments from the children’s schoolteachers, packing, and making sure the house was reasonably secure. And now they were off to the races. Too soon, way too soon.
“We’re coming,” Brayden said, rolling his eyes at his aunt as he emerged from his bedroom. His excitement was obvious, but he was determined to pretend that the trip was no big deal.
“I’m sorry. I’m just nervous, I guess,” Whitney told him.
“Is that all you’re bringing?” he asked, throwing a doubtful look at her one pathetic suitcase.
“I don’t need very much. You just worry about your own bags.” She ruffled his hair.
“Yeah, yeah,” he replied. He grabbed two of their bags without being asked and made his way downstairs, then rushed back up to get more.
Ally trailed behind Whitney as they followed the boy when all the luggage was collected. A new man was standing at her door.
“I apologize, but Mr. Liam had to fly back last night because of a business emergency. He asked that I escort you. I’m Mr. Smotter.”
“If he’s so busy that he can’t even accompany the kids to his father’s place, how is he going to spend any time with them?” she said, rethinking the entire journey.
“I assure you, Ms. Steele, that the kids are this family’s top priority. They are making time in their busy lives for the kids even as we speak.”
“I don’t know about this,” she hedged, but the kids rushed around her.
Mr. Smotter picked up a couple of the bags and began moving away from the house. There, sitting in the little driveway, was the largest limo Whitney had ever seen, and as they climbed inside, they all felt a bit intimidated.
“This is a really big car, Aunt Whitney,” Ally said with huge eyes. Even Brayden was far more subdued than normal.
“Yes it is,” Whitney answered, not knowing what else to add. She refrained from muttering the words freaking waste of money, but she was definitely thinking them. And she was also speculating on the size of the Felton’s “packages” — they must be compensating for something.
“Hello, children. As I told your aunt just now, my name is Mr. Smotter. It’s very nice to meet you both. I have snacks for you, and then you’ll be served breakfast on the jet.”
“You talk funny,” Ally said as she moved closer to the man.
“I speak very well, young lady,” he told her, and he seemed offended.
“Ally, that wasn’t very polite. Would you please apologize to Mr. Smotter?” Whitney told her niece.
Ally’s head drooped. “I’m sorry, Mr. Smotter.”
“No offense taken, young lady,” Mr. Smotter said, clearly warming toward the young girl when he saw the distress in her face.
Everything in the limo fascinated the two children, and they were overjoyed when Mr. Smotter opened a bottle of nonalcoholic sparkling cider. Ally giggled when he gave her a glass of the bubbly liquid in a crystal-stemmed glass.
After they arrived at the airport, Whitney’s jaw fell several inches when the limo pulled off into a private terminal and parked in front of a huge jet with Felton Enterprises painted boldly across the back.
“Wow! Are we flying in that? Just us?” Brayden gasped as he saw all the people surrounding the aircraft.
“Yes, Mr. Felton has sent his personal jet to collect you. He wants to make sure you arrive without any inconvenience or any harm,” Mr. Smotter said, and Whitney cringed.
“Is our grandpa megarich?” Brayden asked his aunt.
“Well, I didn’t want to shock you both too much, but apparently your father’s family has done quite well,” Whitney told him in as offhand a manner as she could.
“This is so unreal,” Brayden said, and then grinned for the first time in what felt like forever.
Whitney didn’t know why, but she suddenly got the giggles. The entire situation was just so bizarre. Things like this didn’t happen in the real world — only in her favorite romantic movies and books. The kids seemed to find the humor in the situation too, and soon the three of them were laughing so hard that none of them could breathe.
Mr. Smotter was looking at them as if they’d all lost their minds. He sat a bit stiffly, waiting for them to collect themselves and exit the limo to board the jet.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Smotter. We’re just a little overwhelmed,” Whitney managed to say between chortles.
They were led up the blue-carpeted stairs into the jet, and all three of the newbies looked around the luxurious cabin in awe.
“This is really cool, Auntie,” Ally squealed as she rushed forward and jumped into a cushioned chair.
“I could get used to traveling like this,” Brayden said with a barely repressed twinkle in his eyes.
“I think this is a fun adventure, and there’s nothing wrong with enjoying every minute of it,” Whitney told the children. “But let’s try not to get too used to it.” Then she sat down in the chair next to Ally and decided not to let any worries of her real life get to her until after this vacation.
She only hoped that it was nothing more than a vacation. Would this mysterious family try to keep the children?
If they did try, they would find that Whitney wasn’t a person to give up without a fight. A big fight. She loved these two children more than they could ever know. Money was a fine thing to have, but it wasn’t a substitute for love.
Chapter Five
When the Big City came into view, Whitney’s breath lodged in her chest and her fears returned. What if she was making a mistake? The chances that this family didn’t want to take the kids was slim. What if ...?
No. She mustn’t think these things. Her sister wouldn’t want her to keep the children from a family who wanted to love them. At least she didn’t think she would. Had her husband told her he didn’t want anything to do with his family? There were so many unanswered questions.
“Wow, Aunt Whitney, this is so exciting,” Ally exclaimed.
The girl would have no trouble adjusting to the situation.
“Yes, honey, I know it is,” Whitney said as she stroked her niece’s hair.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Mr. Smotter said to them once the plane had landed. He led them from the jet and into a limo that was similar to the one they’d ridden in earlier.
The slow drive through heavy traffic made Whitney grateful. It gave her time to practice her breathing techniques and prepare herself for what was to come.
The car picked up speed as they left the city and its skyscrapers. In an hour or so, they rounded a corner and then she heard Brayden’s breath whoosh out. She turned to follow his gaze and then couldn’t stop her own gasp from escaping. Up a long and winding road a gigantic house dominated the snow-covered landscape.
“Is that where we’re going?” Ally asked, her voice quiet as she leaned closer to Whitney.
“Yes, Ms. Ally, this is your family home,” Mr. Smotter told her.
“That doesn’t look like a home,” the little girl replied.
The closer they came, the larger and more intimidating the building looked. Whitney felt so far out of her element that she feared she might not land safely on her feet when this ride was over.
They drove around to the back of the manor, which had windows that each seemed bigger than her entire place back in Oregon, and walls stretching halfway to the sky and beyond. Would the children get lost in the depths of this palace the second they stepped inside, never to be seen again?
“I want you both to sti
ck with me,” Whitney told them as the limo stopped. “And please behave.”
“We promise to be good, Aunt Whitney,” Ally said quickly. Her nephew gave no response.
“Right this way, Ms. Steele.”
The massive door ahead of them looked like something Shrek would need to use. Whitney walked slowly toward it, holding tightly to Ally’s hand. Brayden stood next to her, for once not issuing a snappy or snarky remark, but simply staring as Mr. Smotter opened the door.
“Why is the door so big?” Ally asked as they stepped through.
“Because Mr. Felton is a large man,” Mr. Smotter told her.
Ally stopped, and her eyes turned into saucers. “Like a giant?” she squeaked.
“Not quite that big,” the man said, and even he couldn’t repress a brief chuckle.
They were greeted in the hall by a smile. “I didn’t think you were ever going to arrive,” said a short, round woman with a perky voice.
“Elise, this is Whitney Steele, and these are the children, Master Brayden and Miss Ally,” Mr. Smotter said, and he turned to Whitney. “This is the nanny, Ms. Simms. She’s been awaiting your arrival anxiously.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Simms, but the children won’t need a nanny,” Whitney said, her fingers tightening on Ally’s hand.
“Oh …” The woman’s face fell, and Whitney immediately regretted what she’d said.
“I just meant that I enjoy watching after Ally,” Whitney told her. “And Brayden is quite independent. But I’m sure we could do some things together.”
“That would be wonderful, Ms. Steele,” Elise said, her lips instantly lifting.
“Please call me Whitney. I’ve never been comfortable with so much formality.”
“Oh, well … um …” That request had clearly dumbfounded the poor woman.
Mr. Smotter stepped in and saved them all from the awkwardness. “I’m sure you’re all ready to rest and then get changed for dinner.”
