‘It’s good to be home,’ she told her father with genuine warmth.
He grinned at her. ‘Starting your campaign already?’
She moved briskly around the car to take her luggage from the boot. ‘Not at all,’ she dismissed. ‘How is our esteemed neighbour?’
‘Cal?’ Her father sobered a little. ‘He’s all right, I suppose.’
Helen looked up at him searchingly. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Her father shrugged. ‘Nothing, really. Come on, let’s go inside. It will be like old times, having you here again for a while.’
That was what she was hoping for. And she was more than willing to drop the subject of Caleb Jones for the moment, still shaken by that driver’s resemblance earlier to Daniel. She hadn’t seen him for years, their lifestyles completely different, but she still couldn’t help shuddering every time she realised the narrow escape she had had with him. Every blond-haired Adonis was apt to remind her of what a fool she had been for the few months she had imagined herself in love with him.
‘Starting your campaign already?’ she returned just as mischievously as he had a few minutes earlier.
He raised blond brows. ‘Well, at least this time you came home dressed for the occasion.’ He looked appreciatively at the casual white trousers and white T-shirt she wore, her hair secured loosely at her nape.
The ploy had been deliberate, Helen had to acknowledge mentally. She was genuinely looking forward to this visit with her father, but she also wanted it to go well for purely selfish reasons. No, they weren’t selfish, she really believed her father would be unhappy living anywhere else but Cherry Trees. It was up to her to help him to realise that.
‘I’m on holiday,’ she dismissed lightly.
‘You’re at home while you have time off work,’ her father corrected reprovingly. ‘One hardly goes home for a holiday,’ he derided drily.
She raised her eyes heavenwards, her mouth twisting wryly. ‘That’s very good, Daddy,’ she taunted. ‘But I merely meant I have time away from work to do as I please.’
‘Of course you did,’ he mocked.
‘Daddy,’ Helen sobered, ‘I hope we aren’t going to keep sparring like this the whole time I’m here—’
‘Why not?’ He grinned. ‘I find it quite entertaining.’
‘But very tiring.’
He shrugged. ‘It makes life a lot more interesting, though.’
‘If you say so,’ she grimaced. ‘But I don’t intend giving you the satisfaction of baiting me every five minutes or so.’
‘Oh, well,’ he dismissed. ‘It was fun while it lasted.’
And it was far from over, despite what she had said, and they both knew that!
‘Anyway, you’ll have someone else to “spar” with this evening.’ He gave her a sideways glance.
Helen gave him a considering look; he was about as subtle as a blow between the eyes! ‘Expecting a visitor tonight, are you?’ she said as casually as she was able. Really, her father wasn’t even waiting for her to get settled in before challenging her with Caleb Jones’s presence in the house!
He shrugged. ‘Only Cal for our usual Friday night game of chess. We cancelled the chess in favour of dinner the last time you were here out of consideration for you,’ he explained lightly.
‘How nice,’ she said with saccharine sweetness.
‘I thought so.’ Her father grinned, not fooled for a moment.
He was impossible! But more like his old self this visit, Helen decided as they lingered over a meal of salad and fresh fruit. The lines of strain seemed less about his eyes and mouth today, the former having most of their usual mischievous glow.
But, despite her ready acceptance of Caleb Jones’s expected arrival here tonight when she had only just arrived, it was really just another reminder of how close the two men had become these last months. And of how difficult it was going to be to place the wedge in the relationship that was going to be necessary to persuade her father just how deviously the other man was behaving.
Considering how warmly the two men greeted each other later that evening, that wasn’t going to be easy to do!
‘Nice to see you again, Helen.’ Cal held out his hand in friendly greeting.
Tonight he was dressed in fitted denims that showed the narrowness of his hips and thighs, and a loose short-sleeved shirt of the same shade of blue as his eyes. With his overlong dark hair slightly wind-swept by the light breeze outside, and his eyes warmly smiling, he looked devastatingly attractive. As attractive as he had the first time she had seen him, before her knowledge of his identity had put her on her guard.
Remembering the last time she had seen him, she couldn’t help thinking of the beautiful baby he had in his care.
‘… doesn’t bite, you know, Helen,’ she heard her father mock lightly.
She blinked at him questioningly, blushing furiously as she realised Cal still had his hand extended in greeting, and she had been so lost in her own thoughts she hadn’t even noticed it!
‘I was wondering how your nephew is,’ she said briskly as she lightly brushed her hand against his. Even that contact felt like too much, her hand seeming to burn where they had touched. She didn’t need a complication like that, certainly not with this man!
She couldn’t remember the last time she had been physically attracted to a man—yes, she could, and look at the chaos Daniel had almost caused in her life. Caleb Jones could wreak absolute havoc! She must be having a brainstorm to have even been thinking of him in that way, must need this holiday more than she had realised. She would not fall for this man’s charm, as others seemed to do so easily.
‘Have you left him in the care of the maid again?’ she added caustically, meeting his gaze with defiant challenge.
His mouth tightened, his eyes taking on a grim look. ‘As a matter of fact—’
‘Helen, how about making a drink for Cal and me?’ her father interrupted, his brows raised warningly as she opened her mouth to protest at this abrupt interruption to her conversation with Cal.
She glanced back questioningly at Caleb Jones. He did look rather grimmer than the question had merited, but even so…
‘I like slightly more water in my whisky than Cal,’ her father added firmly, glaring at her pointedly.
What had she said, for goodness’ sake? Her father seemed almost angry, and yet she was sure her remark hadn’t been that insulting. In fact, it had been tame compared to what she would have liked to have said!
‘Helen!’ her father prompted again, even more sharply this time.
He really was agitated; Helen frowned. Not that Caleb seemed too aware of their tension, looking very distracted.
‘Sam?’ she questioned her father with sudden alarm, vividly remembering the determined expression on that cherubic face two weeks ago when Sam had made his escape from his play-pen to stumble across the road in front of her car. Surely Sam hadn’t made good another escape, this time with more serious consequences?
Her concern broke through Caleb’s preoccupation. ‘He’s fine, Helen. Really,’ he assured her with a strained smile. ‘Actually, his grandparents are visiting him again this weekend,’ he added tautly.
Then what was he doing here? The question came instantly to mind. But a single casual glance at her father’s fiercely warning expression had strangulated the question un-asked in her throat. For some reason, and she would question her father on it later, he didn’t want her to pursue the subject of this visit of Cal’s parents to his home. There was definitely some sort of friction there, and maybe this guessed-at animosity of Cal’s own parents towards him would give her an advantage against him she hadn’t expected to find.
‘I’ll get your drinks,’ she complied briskly. But her curiosity had been aroused now, and she would make sure she had the answer to a few questions before very long had passed.
The two men were already seated on either side of the chess-board by the time she returned with their drinks, and fro
m the intent expressions on their faces, and their almost absent-minded acknowledgements of the glasses being placed beside them, she knew that they were already so engrossed by the challenge ahead of them that they were barely aware of her presence.
She moved quietly across the room, picking up the book she had brought with her, to sit down in an armchair.
But she didn’t find the gentle ticking of the clock, the only sound in the room other than the soft thud of the pieces being moved about the chess-board, in the least restful. The storyline that had held her attention with ease during her hours of relaxation in London now held little appeal for her, and she found her attention wandering constantly to the two men seated across the room.
Cal was concentrating as hard as her father, and yet she knew enough about the game to realise that the younger man was losing badly. She had thought the two men would be evenly matched, and yet she could see that tonight Cal was very distracted. She could also see his impatience with himself as he easily lost the first game.
Her father looked concerned, attempting a teasing smile as they set up the board for another game. ‘Feel like a breather before we play again? Or a top up?’ He held up their almost empty glasses.
Cal relaxed back in his chair, flexing his shoulders tiredly. ‘Yes to both, thanks.’ He gave a rueful smile and turned to Helen conversationally. ‘Let’s hope the weather stays fine for your holiday.’
She bristled resentfully; this man did have a way of saying the wrong thing. Unless it was deliberate? ‘I’m not on holiday,’ she snapped, feeling none of the indulgence towards him for the remark that she had felt for her father earlier.
‘Helen,’ her father reproved wearily. ‘Stop being so touchy.’ He frowned. Now is not the time, he seemed to add silently.
She frowned questioningly, but he shook his head warningly. Lord, what was so sensitive about Cal’s parents visiting him? Only they weren’t visiting him, were they? It was Sam they had obviously come to see. She really would have to talk to her father later. Perhaps, without being too nasty about it, she could point out to her father that Cal might not be quite the nice man he thought he was when his own parents treated him so suspiciously.
Whatever it was about his parents’ visit that was bothering Cal, it had really got to him, and he lost the next two games of chess to her father with little resistance. He sat back with a rueful sigh. ‘It’s not my night tonight, I’m afraid,’ he grimaced.
‘Another whisky?’ Helen’s father prompted lightly.
Cal looked down consideringly at his empty glass. ‘I don’t think I’d better…’ he said reluctantly, obviously in no hurry to leave.
‘Coffee, then,’ her father decided firmly. ‘You two have a chat while I go and get it ready.’
Helen glared at him as he left the room with a mischievous wink in her direction. The old devil, he was enjoying this situation altogether too much for her liking.
‘Good book?’ Cal stood up, stretching stiffly.
She hadn’t read a single page since she’d sat down, had spent the entire time watching the two men, fascinated by the intensity of their game! But she wasn’t about to admit that! ‘Not bad,’ she dismissed with a shrug. ‘A bit like her others.’ She had read enough of the book while in London to be able to say that with complete authority. But it was a safe read, with a predictable ending, and it didn’t need too much concentration to read it.
Lord, he did look tired, she realised with a frown. ‘How did the interviews go?’ she prompted lightly.
He brightened a little. ‘Very well, actually. I have someone starting who seems very competent.’
‘That will relieve some of the pressure,’ she nodded.
‘Let’s hope so.’ He still seemed distracted.
‘Does Sam not get on with his grandparents?’ She frowned; all the more reason for Cal not to be here tonight if that was the case!
‘Reasonably well,’ he replied.
Then what was the problem? Because there certainly was one. ‘I’m sure my father wouldn’t have minded if you had missed your game of chess for one week,’ Helen said softly.
‘What…? Oh,’ his brow cleared. ‘No, I can assure you that I’m not necessary at the house tonight,’ he added grimly.
He didn’t get on with Sam’s grandparents. Curiouser and curiouser—as the saying went. She could hardly wait to talk to her father alone.
But the two men seemed in no hurry to bring the evening to a close, relaxing back in a couple of armchairs to talk lightly as they enjoyed their coffee.
Helen studied Caleb Jones again, wondering at her earlier reaction to him. Oh, he was handsome enough, rakishly so, but that very fact should have been enough to repulse her; she had learnt the hard way that dangerously attractive men were selfishly obsessed with having life their own way. Caleb Jones had done little, so far, to disabuse her of that belief!
Besides, she had more sense than to ever let personal feelings towards a man interfere with her life a second time!
She stood up determinedly. ‘I think I’d better go to bed.’
Caleb frowned, glancing down at his watch. ‘I suppose I’d better be on my way.’ But he didn’t sound in the least anxious to go.
‘There’s no need to do that just because I’m going to bed,’ Helen dismissed briskly. ‘Stay and have another drink with my father.’
Caleb stood up too. ‘I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.’
So was she, but she had accepted that such meetings were unavoidable before she came down here!
He chuckled softly at the revealing expression on her face. ‘Your enthusiasm for that idea is overwhelming!’
She blushed at the amused sarcasm in his voice, looking reluctantly at her father, expecting censure in his face but finding the other man’s humour reflected there. The two of them were actually enjoying her discomfort now!
‘Goodnight, Mr Jones,’ she said with as much dignity as she could muster. ‘Daddy,’ she kissed him with a warmth that was accompanied by a saccharine-sweet smile, the look in her eyes promising further comment on his behaviour when they were alone.
Whether Caleb took up her suggestion or not, he stayed downstairs talking with her father for at least another half-hour after she had gone up to her bedroom. She became aware of the sound of his car leaving as she came through from taking her shower, strolling over to the window to watch his tail-lights disappearing in the direction of the main house, absently drying her hair with a towel as she wondered what sort of reception awaited him. It was his home, and yet she knew it was the last place he wanted to be tonight.
Her father was still seated in the lounge when she got downstairs, his expression pensive, although he brightened somewhat as she came into the room.
‘I thought you would have been asleep long ago,’ he said with a smile.
She shrugged. ‘I needed a shower. And I thought perhaps Caleb wanted to talk to you alone for a while,’ she added.
Her father grimaced. ‘It isn’t an easy situation for him.’
‘But he must have realised that when he first took Sam on.’ She frowned. ‘And he could make things a lot easier for himself if he employed a nanny to help out.’
‘Oh, it isn’t caring for Sam that’s the problem,’ her father dismissed impatiently.
Helen looked at him questioningly, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts, and after a couple of minutes’ silence from him she realised he wasn’t about to explain himself.
‘Then what is?’ she prompted softly, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
‘Sam’s grandparents,’ he said heavily.
The subject she had been longing to get back to all evening!
‘What about them?’ she voiced as casually as she was able.
‘Oh, they mean well, I suppose,’ her father sighed. ‘And I’m sure they love Sam and want what’s best for him, but…’ He trailed off with a sigh.
‘But?’ she said gently.
‘Sam loves Cal very much; they
’re great together.’ He frowned.
‘And?’ Helen looked at him expectantly.
Her father stood up, moving to pour himself a cup of what must be lukewarm coffee by now. ‘It’s always a messy business when children are involved in a custody wrangle.’ He shook his head.
‘Cal’s own parents are fighting him for the custody of Sam?’ she gasped. Lord, this was worse than she had thought! Cal must have done something really outrageous for his own parents to think him unsuitable to bring Sam up. She couldn’t even begin to guess what it might have been.
‘Of course not,’ her father denied censoriously.
‘But—’
‘The grandparents visiting Sam at the moment are the parents of Sam’s mother,’ her father said impatiently, as if that explained everything.
And maybe it did to a certain extent, although certainly not completely. Sam’s father must obviously have been Cal’s brother, but that didn’t tell her why the baby’s maternal grandparents were so against Cal’s having custody of him.
Her father gave an irritated sigh. ‘When Sam’s parents were killed in a car accident both Cal and Susan’s parents were left as guardians of the baby, with Cal having actual custody of him.’
‘That seems clear enough.’ Helen nodded slowly.
‘Possibly,’ her father acknowledged tersely. ‘At least, you would think it was. But the grandparents were never happy about the situation, claiming that it would be best for Sam to grow up in a normal family atmosphere—that is with both a man and a woman to care for him. Namely themselves,’ he added grimly. ‘In the last few months they have been putting great pressure on Cal to let them have Sam.’
‘And he doesn’t agree?’ Helen said softly.
Memories of the Past Page 4
