His-And-Hers Family

by Winn, Bonnie K.

  “You mean you’re one of the few people in America who never had California fever?”

  She shrugged. “Nope. But I have got fireflies.”

  They shared an unexpected smile.

  Too aware of the shared moment, the slash of white teeth against his sensual lips, Cassie glanced away, turning to the refuge of darkness to hide the unexpected flutter she felt. Considering how long it had been since she even acknowledged that there was another sex in the species, she was surprised to recognize the quick flare of attraction. Must be the moon, the night air, enhancing the mystery of the sophisticated stranger whose long, lean body stretched against her railing.

  At that moment, two fireflies sparked in front of them, lighting the darkness briefly before they flew away.

  “I can’t believe tit,” Blake murmured. “This whole place is like stepping back in time.”

  Cassie heard the change in his voice. It had stayed authoritative and brisk until now. She liked the change, found it easier to be herself when he didn’t sound so intimidating. “When I was a kid, we caught fireflies in jelly jars. We’d punch airholes in the lid so they wouldn’t croak. Then they’d light up like a lantern when the jar was full.” She smiled, unable to resist teasing him. “Could be why there’s a shortage of firefties where you live. Lots more kids in the big city—and maybe they forgot about the airholes.”

  He chuckled again, his voice scraping beads of awareness over her skin. “Could be. More likely the fireflies got tired of the smog.” He looked down the quiet streets. “This seems like a great place to grow up.”

  Cassie felt a familiar pang, then forced it away. “It was. I like knowing my children are safe, happy.”

  “You never thought about going anywhere else?”

  The pang deepened, and she purposely shifted the questioning away from herself. “How about you, Mr. Matthews? Did you ever want to live someplace besides the big city?”

  “Almost everybody in L.A. thinks about retreating to the middle of nowhere. But I know I’d enjoy it for a few days and then I’d go nuts.”

  Cassie laughed softly. “Then Twin Corners will probably send you around the bend.”

  “I won’t be around long enough to let it. Once the deal closes, I’ll be gone.”

  Of course he would. And he could take his disturbing effect along with him. She shook her head to clear it, pushing her heavy hair back. “That’s good. Then you won’t have to be away from your children too long.”

  “That’s the truth. The housekeeper threatened to quit on my last trip. She doesn’t like having to corral the kids. Said it’s not part of the job, but I can’t keep a full-time sitter. Most of them prefer younger children. But the kids are tough, they don’t need someone hovering over them all the time.”

  Cassie flinched at the thought of someone caring for children who felt it was strictly an inconvenience, and also at Blake’s callous-sounding view of nurturing. But she decided his lack of parental concern wasn’t her business. “Then, an even better reason to get back to civilization.”

  “Yes, even though there aren’t any fireflies.”

  Feeling a smile tugging at her lips, Cassie met his gaze briefly. She’d noticed earlier that his eyes were a deep blue, and in the diminished light they seemed even darker, even more provocative. She suspected those eyes had sent more than one female heart running for cover. And even though she’d steel-belted her own susceptibility to men, it was escaping through that locked door.

  She purposely tamped down the unfamiliar spurt of attraction, surprised she could still feel such a thing. But then, Blake Matthews was hardly the average man. Tall, leanly muscled, his dark hair an intriguing contrast to those incredibly blue eyes, he was a mouthwatering man, made-to-order for her fantasies. Not to mention that he had a face that could belong to a Hollywood star rather than a businessman.

  At least he wouldn’t be around long enough to be a worry. Even though he’d awakened a long-buried feeling, she would stash it firmly back in place. Her time for being attracted to men was past. And it certainly wasn’t in her future. Not that he’d reciprocate her attraction.

  Knowing that, she was able to smile briskly. “Maybe you can take ajar home with you.”

  His gaze met hers. “Wouldn’t be the same.”

  That wayward pulse in her throat leaped to attention once more.

  The front door screen banged open suddenly, interrupting the quiet moment. Jimmy Ray stood at the doorway, looking between them, a suspicious frown covering his face.

  Cassie withheld a sigh. Her oldest took his responsibilities as the man of the house seriously. Sometimes too seriously. His protectiveness was sweet, but hardly necessary. Blake Matthews hadn’t exactly seemed overwhelmed by her presence. In fact, she doubted he thought of her as a woman at all. Which was fine, she told herself. She shored up her smile, directing it at her son. “Had enough studying for one night, Jimmy Ray?”

  He moved closer, his stance clearly protective. “Just taking a break, Mama. I thought you might need something.” His gaze challenged Blake, who seemed to catch the boy’s inflection.

  Blake looked first surprised, then amused. No doubt the thought of romancing her was ridiculous to him. She wondered why the thought rankled her slightly. What did it matter what a guest thought of her?

  “No. I was just enjoying the quiet,” she replied. “And Mr. Matthews came to see the fireflies.”

  “And now it’s time to get back to work,” Blake inserted, his voice once again all business. “I need to send for some battery packs for the computer, and modular connections for the phone. The hardwired dial phones won’t accept my modem.”

  Cassie listened to the unfamiliar terminology, guessing that he meant that their house was hopelessly outdated. And now that his brisk, impersonal style was back, she also guessed that his earlier lapse had been a rare one. “I’m sure Jimmy Ray can help you out. He’s always reading about computers. The school doesn’t have the funds for one, but Jimmy Ray still keeps up on everything.”

  Blake glanced at the boy. “No computers in your school?”

  “No, sir. But that doesn’t mean I can’t learn about them.”

  “Of course not. I’ll show you what I need. If you want to earn some extra money, you can set things up for me.”

  Jimmy Ray’s eyes brightened. He always jumped on a chance to earn something extra. “Yes, sir.”

  “Mr. Matthews,” Blake reminded him.

  Together they walked back inside the house. As the screen door banged behind them, flopping into place, Cassie heard their voices fading away.

  It was best that Jimmy Ray had interrupted them. She didn’t want to embarrass herself by acting like a schoolgirl who’d never encountered a handsome man. Although she wasn’t sure Blake Matthews would even notice. The man seemed to live and breathe business. He might have had a brief nostalgic moment, but she guessed it had been the effect of the night air and the unaccustomed small-town atmosphere.

  Still, she sat on the porch swing, listening to its rhythmic creaking as she rocked, wondering how other women would respond to a man like Blake Matthews. Knowing she needed to put the lock he’d started to open firmly back in place.

  She was a mother, not a woman. And it wouldn’t do to start thinking like one.

  BLAKE STUDIED the new connections in his bedroom that Jimmy Ray had installed. He would now be able to use his computer, fax and modem. Impressed, Blake wondered again about these children. They were motivated, goal-oriented, respectful, and at first he’d thought they were Stepford children—programmed robots. But over the past few days, he’d discovered they were also fun-loving, happy kids.

  Katherine Ann planned to be a doctor, Jimmy Ray wanted a career in computer engineering. Even ten-year-old David John had a goal—to be a professional baseball player...or an astronaut. But he, too, worked hard at school and home. They all pulled good grades, yet did their chores without complaint. They also did odd jobs for extra money—from baby-sitt
ing to yard work.

  Blake’s own sons had one goal. To have fun. Kevin, his fourteen-year-old, merely looked bored when Blake tried to tell him that he had to start concentrating on his schoolwork if he wanted to get into a good college one day. Kevin clearly assumed that Blake would pave his way into college with money. Not home enough to ride herd on him, Blake knew Kevin was still blowing off his schoolwork. And the identical nine-year-old twins, Mark and Todd, were just short of running wild. His latest housekeeper did little more than make sure they didn’t burn the house down.

  Blake had always heard that boys in fatherless homes were the ones in danger. Yet Cassie controlled her sons easily. Far more easily than he’d ever managed. If she had three pliable girls, he wouldn’t have been as impressed, but he knew how much more difficult it was to keep boys in line.

  Blake wondered how Cassie did it. She must surely be stretched thin herself, between housework, parenting, running a boardinghouse and taking in sewing and alterations, but still her children were well-rounded, happy. He knew she rose early and worked late into the night. Despite her overwhelming schedule, she created a warm feeling of family and home. Blake wished he could bottle her secret.

  From what he could see, Cassie didn’t have much of a social life, but he guessed she wasn’t interested. Katherine Ann had revealed that Cassie was thirty-four—and didn’t date. She certainly didn’t dress like a woman trawling for men. But then it had been a long time after his wife’s death before he showed an interest in women. He wondered how long it had been since Cassie’s marriage ended.

  Blake hooked the cables to his computer. Or maybe Cassie Hawkins was one of those rare women who didn’t want or need a man in her life. Either way, it didn’t concern him.

  Because of the close atmosphere of the boardinghouse, he’d learned more about the Hawkinses than he expected. Cassie automatically drew everyone in the house close. Even though she said she wanted to treat her guests the way a hotel did, her natural hospitality flowed through, putting everyone at ease, making her home theirs, as well. She encouraged them to use the parlor, raid the refrigerator and take advantage of the huge, inviting yard.

  Blake wondered, though, why none of her guests were regulars. He suspected most boardinghouses depended on regulars, rather than an occasional tourist. Even though there were only a few hotels in town, they could amply accommodate the normal tourist trade, except during Rodeo Days. And few people stopping overnight for just an evening sought out a boardinghouse. He frowned, wondering how the Hawkinses would fare once Rodeo Days ended. Personally, he planned to leave a generous bonus when he departed. After all, Cassie had saved him from sleeping in his car, and he could well afford the expense.

  It was clear, from all the economizing he’d seen, that money was tight. Blake’s suspicion that something else was going on deepened. The constant phone calls that left Cassie shaken, the expression of dread when the postman handed her the mail, the looks she exchanged with her children, which she thought no one noticed.

  He’d also discovered that Cassie Hawkins was a very private person. Respecting that, since he was as well, Blake didn’t pry.

  After finishing up his computer installation, Blake, accustomed by now to wandering through the house at will, left his room, venturing downstairs to the kitchen to grab a sandwich. He began pushing open the swinging door, but then he heard Cassie’s voice. From the one-sided conversation, it was clear that she was on the phone. Deciding to give her some privacy, Blake started to close the door but Cassie’s voice stopped him.

  “I’ve told you. I will come up with the money. You know my word is good.”

  There was silence as she apparently listened.

  “Business is good right now, with Rodeo Days and—”

  He heard another silence.

  “I know Rodeo Days will end, but I’m hoping to find new boarders, and my sewing business is picking up, and—”

  The silence was longer this time.

  . “If you could just see your way to extending the note—”

  The interruption was brief.

  “I will do anything to keep the house. If you’ll just—”

  The silence seemed to echo now.

  “Yes, I know about my other outstanding bills. But when business picks up—”

  The phone calls, letters and looks. The picture was coming together.

  Cassie’s voice was dull now. “Yes. I understand. But I’ll find some way.... Yes. Goodbye.”

  Blake backed away from the door carefully. Making sure his feet were quiet against the wooden floor, he retreated upstairs. In her place, he wouldn’t want anyone eavesdropping.

  So, she was about to lose this house. A place that was clearly important to her. He wondered at the man who had abandoned them. An offhand comment from Jimmy Ray had told Blake his father neither visited nor sent any financial support. And now the Hawkinses were facing eviction.

  Blake knew he could offer the money, or pick up the mortgage note himself. But he knew without asking that Cassie would never accept charity. Still, the thought of the Hawkins family losing their home was galling. A picture of her hardworking children flashed in his mind. It wasn’t a fate any of them deserved.

  It was difficult that evening to sit through dinner. Cassie was uncharacteristically quiet, even though she was as gracious and good-natured as always. Since he knew the truth, Blake wondered how she stood up to the pressure. The strain was visible in her face, especially in her eyes, but no one else seemed to notice. One of the disadvantages of knowing too much, he supposed. His appetite ruined, Blake ate little. Glancing around the table at the Hawkins children, who showed such promise, Blake couldn’t stomach the thought of them homeless.

  Placing his napkin on the table, Blake pushed back his chair.

  Cassie glanced up, concern replacing the strain in her expression. “Is something wrong, Mr. Matthews? If you don’t like the fish, I can cook—”

  “That’s all right, Cassie. Just not too hungry tonight. Besides, I have a lot of work to do.”

  She nodded, and Blake escaped before she could add anything else. He didn’t want to blurt out her secret to a roomful of strangers.

  Back upstairs, he stood in front of the bay window, listening to the swish of branches against the glass as he gazed at the quiet street below. Katherine Ann had confided that the house had been in their family for generations. And now they were about to lose it. Having had money all his life, including the trust fund that he had used to establish his business, Blake didn’t know how it felt to stand on the edge of financial ruin.

  His mind once again went over the possibilities. And once again he didn’t come up with any he thought she would agree to. It was too bad she couldn’t bottle the secret of her success with her children. Now that would be worth a fortune.

  straightening up suddenly, Blake turned from the window. She might not be able to bottle her success, but she could sell it. And he knew the perfect customer.

  Him.

  Chapter Three

  Cassie knocked lightly on Blake’s door, hoping she wasn’t disturbing him. The light beneath his door always shone brightly late into the night as he worked, but Cassie thought perhaps he wasn’t feeling well now. He’d barely touched his dinner. And he had been enthusiastic about her cooking since his first taste of her fried chicken.

  The door opened suddenly, and Cassie offered him a tentative smile. “I hope you weren’t napping. I thought maybe the fish really wasn’t to your liking. I’ve brought something light. Soup and a chicken sandwich.” When he didn’t answer, she gestured self-consciously toward a small dish on the tray. “And rice pudding—that usually sets well on your stomach. The iced tea is fresh. Just made a new pitcher. It’s sun tea, not boiled. Keeps it from being bitter.” She tried smiling again.

  A strange, inexplicable expression crossed his face, touched his eyes. But then he sighed, accepting the tray and putting it on the desk.

  Cassie ran her hands down the leg
s of her worn jeans. He didn’t turn around immediately, and she felt ill at ease, strangely awkward. “Well, I’ll let you be. If you need anything else, just hot—just let me know.”

  Blake turned then, staring at her. Then he crossed the room in a few long strides. “Come in.”

  “I don’t want to disturb you, and—”

  Taking her hand, Blake pulled her inside and shut the door.

  Cassie glanced nervously at him, very aware of the now closed door. “If you don’t want soup or—”

  “How can you be talking about food?” He shoved one hand through his hair. “Or be concerned that I didn’t eat? With what you’re facing, you need to be worried about yourself, not anyone else.”

  Cassie took a step backward and found herself against the door. He couldn’t be talking about... She cleared her throat. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “I heard you this afternoon. On the phone. I didn’t intend to eavesdrop. I was going into the kitchen to get a sandwich.” His voice lost some of its aggressive gruffness. “So I know what’s going on.”

  Cassie forced her voice to be steady. She knew she couldn’t hide the truth forever. “I guess it doesn’t matter. Unless I think of something fast, everybody in town will know. I haven’t told the kids about how bad it is with the bank. They know about the other bill collectors, but I couldn’t tell them about the house. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t, either.”

  “And that’ll buy you what? A few weeks? A month? What then?”

  Cassie swallowed her desperation. “I don’t know. But I’ll think of something.”

  “I already have.”

  Puzzled, she stared at him, then remembered the closed door. If he thought she was that kind of woman, he’d learn in a hurry that she’d sleep in the street before she’d sleep with a man for money. “I don’t know what kind of woman you think I am—”

  “The kind who’s a great mother. One who can raise kids that are respectful and motivated. One who can make a house into a home.”

  Cassie opened her mouth, but no sound came out. It had been a long time since she dealt with men, but this didn’t sound like any kind of proposition she’d ever heard.