by Paty Jager
Brock wished he had time to clean up before the old Indian showed up, but didn’t want to make extra mess by using the upstairs bathroom. He knew if Willie T made the trip to bring information it would take at least two pots of coffee and a big plate of breakfast to get it out of him. That was the least of his worries.
Thanks to Maxwell, the social service woman planned to come out today to check up on him. Hell, he wished he knew how to make the bitter man leave his family alone. Willie T was right. Having a nanny would simplify a lot of things in his life.
He rubbed a hand across the tense muscles in his neck. Visions of Carina standing in the mudroom with her rain-soaked clothes clinging to her curvy body and the way her hungry gaze had consumed him last night, had him once again wishing Willie T had hired an older more haggard nanny.
Four
Carina handed Willie T another cup of coffee as Brock entered the room dressed in clean clothes. His collar-length, black hair was combed back from a tan, sun-etched face. This along with his aristocratic nose and sharp features made him look as if he could be the old man’s Native American son.
“Willie T, now that you’ve managed to drink a pot of coffee, suppose you tell us what brought you out here?” Brock asked, pouring himself a cup. He brushed against her as she moved to place a plate of pancakes on the table alongside the cold plate of bacon and warmed up scrambled eggs. The tingle his touch elicited set her cheeks on fire. She quickly turned back to the stove to hide her reaction.
The old man had barely said a word as he drank coffee and waited for Brock to get cleaned up. When he cleared his throat, Carina turned back to the table interested in what he had to say. Living in a large city, she’d come across all kinds of people from all walks of life, but she’d never met a Native American who lived on the land of his ancestors. She taught because it gave her an avenue to learn new things. Having someone of his heritage and knowledge was an aphrodisiac to her inquiring mind.
“This coffee is better than usual.”
Brock set his cup down and leaned on the table. “Willie T you didn’t ride that old nag of yours all the way here just for a plate of pancakes and a pot of coffee.”
Carina had to suppress a giggle. The larger, younger man looked flustered, while the older man with long, gray hair merely took another sip of coffee and licked his lips appreciatively, seeming to enjoy the limelight.
“Let’s eat, then I’ll tell you why I rode for two hours to get to my good friends.”
The twinkle in the man’s eyes wasn’t lost to Carina. She understood he enjoyed playing with the impatient younger man. “How about some nice jam to go on those pancakes?” she suggested, retrieving a jar of raspberry jam from the refrigerator.
“Now this woman has the right idea. Eat then talk.” He smiled at her, showing straight, yellow teeth.
“Willie T! Willie T!” Maddie burst into the kitchen with wet hair soaking her shirt; the mud monster, which had entered the shower, returned an exuberant girl.
“Yes, little one?” Softening in Willie T’s features gave away his affection for the child. Maddie pushed a chair next to his and sat to his left.
“That storm we was—”
“Were,” interrupted Carina.
“That storm we were watching dropped a bunch of rain.”
The old man laughed and patted her head. “Yes, it was a bunch of rain.” His mouth became grim. He looked at Brock. “The rain caused many washouts.” He raised his hand when Brock started to talk. “That is why Jack has not arrived. The road to his place and his daughter’s washed out in the canyon. It will be several days before they can dig through the mud.”
“What about the road to Halverton?” Brock glanced at Carina and grimaced. “A woman from social services was headed this way today.”
“Why are they investigating you?” Carina asked, stunned that someone had gone so far as to turn him in to Child Welfare.
“It’s a long story. But if the road is closed, it will give me time to explain it all after I find the scattered cows.”
Carina scanned the faces of the men and the child as they prepared to eat the food on their plates. None of them seemed the least concerned the State was looking into their lives. She knew from experiences as a teacher it could have devastating results for a family.
“How long will it take you to round up the cows?” She wanted answers sooner rather than later.
“Without Jack’s help, I’ll probably be all day and part of the night. I can’t have them getting too far away. It’s best to keep them grouped together to watch for early calves and less of a chance to lose one to predators or man.”
“Do you need our help?” Carina didn’t know the first thing about rounding up cattle, but she could see on his face, it was important.
“When I find them I could use Maddie’s help. The best help you can give is taking care of Tate.”
She looked at the smiling toddler and Maddie’s sparkling eyes. “I think I can handle that.”
“Jack doesn’t live that far from us, I don’t get—” Maddie started to say.
“I don’t understand.” Carina corrected without even thinking.
Maddie sighed. “Do you have to correct everything I say?”
“If I remember right you corrected me,” Carina said, tugging on one of Maddie’s braids. She glanced at Brock and Willie T who both hid smiles behind their cups of coffee. “Let’s make a pact. You can correct me about ranch terms, and I’ll keep helping you with your grammar.” She held out her hand to shake. Maddie frowned and looked at her dad, who nodded his head.
“Okay, but it’s kind of annoying.” She held out her hand.
Carina’s heart swelled at the child’s firm grip and exasperated expression.
“What did you want to ask about Jack?” Brock asked his daughter.
“Why couldn’t he ride a horse like Willie T to get here?” Maddie took a big bite of pancake.
“You need to cut the next bite in half,” Carina said, taking a seat in the chair next to Maddie. The girl wrinkled her nose and looked at her dad with pleading eyes.
“You’ll do what Carina says while she’s with us,” he said, grinning. “As for Jack, I’m sure he wants to make sure his family can get out before he comes to help us.”
“Oh yeah! His daughter has small children and his mother is real old.” Maddie started to take another large bite. Carina cleared her throat. Rolling her eyes, Maddie put the food down and cut it in half.
Willie T burst out laughing. “If I knew having someone make you be a lady was so much fun, I’d have brought someone here sooner.”
Brock turned to Willie T. “Don’t think because I gave in to the month that I’ve forgiven you or Maddie for going behind my back.”
Carina felt uncomfortable for the old man and started to get up.
“No, Ms. Valencia, I think you should stay. After all you’ve been wronged by these two as well. You came here expecting a long term commitment.”
“That’s true, but life has a way of throwing lumps in front of me. I’ll survive. You shouldn’t be too harsh on them. They were looking out for your interests,” she said, sitting back down and sending Willie T an apologetic smile.
“They pretended to be me and brought you out here on a lark. If they had discussed it with me I could have explained there is no money to hire anyone to help with the housework and Tate.” Brock glared at the old man and girl. “Which you should both know since you seem to have rifled through my papers to get information for the nanny agency.”
“I knew we were on a budget, but I’m willing to give up everything. Clothes, computer games, and school supplies.” Maddie pushed her plate away. “Food.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You need food or there is no need for a nanny!” Brock shot out of his chair and paced the kitchen. “I know this has been the hardest on you Maddie. I’d give anything to have someone here full time to take care of things you shouldn’t have to. But we can’t afford anyone, a
nd you know your grandmother won’t set foot back at Haven.” He stopped at the kitchen sink and looked out the window.
Carina wanted to go over and comfort him. The defiant stance grasping the sink couldn’t hide his shoulders sagging with the weight of his troubles.
Brock swung back around, piercing Willie T with his dark gaze. “You’re an adult and know better.”
The old man shook his head slowly. His dark eyes held sympathy for the younger man. “You need adult company and Maddie shouldn’t be Tate’s mother.”
“I know she shouldn’t be his mother. She’s his sister. But his mother was a worthless bitch.”
“Brock!” Carina stood, slapping her hands on the table. “You will not use that kind of language in front of the children.” He started to open his mouth. “As long as I am around here, you will keep such foul things to yourself.” She smoothed Tate’s blonde hair and glared at Brock. “You may have those feelings toward his mother, but you will not say them around him.” She looked at Maddie who played with the food on her plate. “Or your daughter.”
Brock stared at the woman. She’d only been in his house less than twenty-four hours and she’d already started laying down the rules and telling him what he could and couldn’t do. He opened his mouth to protest, but all the things he wanted to say seemed childish considering what had popped out of his mouth moments before. Mentally, he reconstructed her comments. She was protecting his children—from him.
He walked over to Maddie.
“Sorry, Freckles, I didn’t mean to have it come out like that.” He patted her head and leaned over to kiss the top of Tate’s head. “Sorry, pal.” He didn’t even look at the woman who was turning this family into something civilized.
“Come on,” he said to Willie T and headed into the mud room for his coat and boots.
“Thank you for the breakfast, Ms. Valencia.”
“Call me Carina,” she replied.
“Carina. I’m glad both you and the rain came. This family needed both.” Willie T joined him in the mud room.
“Why’d you go and say that?” Brock straightened from tying his packers.
“It’s the truth.” Willie T shrugged. “You and the children do need her. Before she arrived anyone would have done, but after seeing her defend your children, she is the one you need.”
Brock glared at the old man. He didn’t need anyone and especially not the woman in the kitchen. When his nether regions roared to life thinking of needing her, he growled and tamped down the desire that surged at the thought of her full curves and crooked smile.
“Come help me check the herd. We already had to pull a cow out of a dip this morning.”
Willie T tipped his head toward the kitchen. “She help?”
“If you could call it that.” Brock snorted and headed out the door with Willie T right behind him. “She’s a city girl. Maddie had to tell her what a calf was.”
“But she pitched in and helped?”
“Yeah.” Brock thought of her pushing on the cow and rushing to save it when she realized the pickup would pull on the animal’s hocks. “She isn’t afraid of dirt and helping.”
“That’s good. She may need to help you more until Jack can get here.” Willie T climbed into the passenger side of the pickup.
Brock didn’t like the idea of relying on Carina and Maddie to help him with the cows, but he didn’t have a choice. “Could you come over every day and help?” he asked the old man.
He grinned and shook his head. “Got family who need me.”
“How did they fair with the rains?” Brock knew his friend doted on his kids and grandchildren—they were all he had since his wife and siblings left this earth some years ago.
“The kids and grandkids, all but two, have no problems, but I’ll have to help the ones whose roads did wash out. I’m going after supplies tomorrow.”
“Did the monthly shipment get to Dutch Springs before all the washouts?”
“Yeah. We will all have plenty until another shipment arrives.”
“Good, I plan to head down there for supplies in a couple of days.” Brock thought of Carina trying to call her friend. “Ms. Valencia could get a signal on her cell phone from there if the phones don’t make it back on.”
“She got family to contact?” Willie T seemed to finally take an interest in the conversation.
“I don’t know. She called a friend last night to say she arrived.” Last night he hadn’t wanted to learn anything about the woman. After witnessing the sadness in her eyes and her fierce loyalty to his children, he now wanted to know everything he could about the woman.
“Boyfriend?”
A wave of jealousy, something he hadn’t felt since dating Beth, surged through him. “I don’t think so. She’s coming off a rough divorce.”
“I see.”
He could almost see the wheels cranking behind Willie T’s rheumy eyes. “Whatever you see. Keep me out of it.”
The old man nodded his head, but the twinkle in his eyes told Brock he’d better be wary. There was no way the old man and his daughter would get him hooked up with another woman. He had Beth’s love to sustain him through this life and didn’t want someone messing up his family. Mentally he knew this was how it should be—unfortunately, his body reacted differently to the idea of Ms. Valencia taking care of his kids and sashaying around the house.
Five
Carina had lunch on the table when the two men returned.
“It looks good, Ms. Valencia,” Willie T said, taking a seat at the table.
“Please, call me Carina.” She placed a cup of coffee in front of him while Brock scrounged around in a cupboard. “Do you need something I forgot?” she asked.
He pulled a large thermos out of the cupboard. “No, but I’d appreciate if you could put together about five or six sandwiches. There’s still some cows missing. Maddie and I will head out as soon as you get those ready.”
Maddie jumped up and began helping make the sandwiches while Brock poured all the coffee from the pot into the thermos and started another pot.
Once the sandwiches were made, Maddie grabbed her hat and coat, following her father out the door. Carina cleaned up the mess after Willie T ate three sandwiches, washing them down with another pot of coffee.
“I need to head over to my daughter’s. They had some rain damage, and I promised to get supplies for them tomorrow.” Willie T scooted his chair back from the table and stood.
“It was good of you to inform us of the washed out roads and help Brock look for cattle this morning.” Carina picked up the dishes and turned to the sink.
“This family is like my own flesh-n-blood.” He grinned and patted her shoulder. “You too.”
Carina stared at the man’s back as he left the room. She’d never known anyone who gave her such a feeling of calmness and acceptance. If nothing else, the month she spent here would be worth getting to know this man. When the back door clicked shut, she turned to Tate. “What are we going to do with our afternoon?”
****
Carina found herself looking for things to do after she put Tate down for a nap. She’d never been one to sit and do nothing. After digging around, she found a rag and dusted the antiques about the house. This small chore reminded her of afternoons spent in her mother’s antique shop.
She carefully cleaned the creases in the carvings on the grandfather clock and wondered if Brock’s great grandfather had carved the date in it anywhere. Growing up with an antique dealer had imparted her with a love of the old pieces and an interest in their history.
Opening the door on the front of the clock, she ran her fingers over the base to see if a date had been carved. Her hand bumped something. A wave of conscience stalled her hand, but her curiosity won, and she closed her fingers around a small bundle of letters held together by a hardening rubber band.
She rippled the end of the bundle with her thumb. It would be an invasion of privacy to read them. She turned the bundle over. They were
addressed to Beth Johnson in a man’s square lettering. She looked at the return address. An APO address. Military. Tapping the letters against her palm, she battled with her inquisitiveness.
Wasn’t Beth the name of Brock’s first wife, Maddie’s mother? From the brief dossier the agency handed her, she knew Brock served in the military.
Presuming Brock and Maddie wouldn’t arrive back at the house until after dark, she sat down on the couch and slowly rolled the drying rubber band down the bundle. The band snapped, scattering the letters across the floor.
Carina fell to her knees, scooping the envelopes into a pile. One by one, she read the postmark dates. The letters spanned a couple of years. If Brock wrote them, what could it hurt for her to read a little bit about his past? Maybe it might help her understand the man and his family better.
She tapped the letter in the palm of her hand. If he sent it to his first wife, it was personal. She bit her lip. Would she want someone reading something she wrote to someone she loved? Someone who was dead and still loved?
No.
Gnawing on her lip couldn’t squelch the desire to know more about the man.
She wanted to see what made Brock love his first wife so deeply he couldn’t love another. From the name he called his second wife this morning, it sounded like there had been little love between them. Her chest tightened with sadness. The thought reaffirmed her mother’s words when she once told her she would never be able to love another man as she had Carina’s father—a man, who died much too young, leaving behind a wife and daughter. Could a person only love that strongly once in their lifetime? She thought about what she and Perry had. He couldn’t have been her one love. He’d turned tail too quickly when their world shattered.
If Brock and Beth had shared such a love, she wished to learn more. From her failed marriage, it was unlikely she’d ever experience such a love in her life. At first she thought Perry was her one true love. However, his need to move up the corporate ladder and his less than attentive nature after the miscarriage proved he never loved her unconditionally.
