Family Ever After

by Margaret Daley

  Shouts of rage surrounded them as Cara pressed her foot on the brake to decrease her speed to a few miles per hour.

  Five feet.

  Someone struck the trunk. Cara flinched and spied a young college-aged woman glaring at her. She hit the back of the car again and gave Cara an obscene gesture.

  Mercifully the gate closed behind the car, and Cara picked up speed, racing toward the back, away from the prying eyes of the crowd peering at them through the iron bars. When she parked behind the mansion near the garage, she wanted to collapse against the steering wheel, but she was aware of the children’s confused gazes on her.

  Taking several deep breaths, she calmed her hammering heartbeat. “Charges were filed against the three men who bothered me in The Ultimate Pizzeria parking lot a few weeks ago. Those people weren’t happy about it.”

  Timothy, with saucer-round eyes, twisted so he could look toward the driveway that led to the gate. “Why are they mad at you? Those men did wrong.”

  “Honey, they think I’m lying about what happened.”

  He came back around and sat forward. “You don’t lie.”

  “You and I know that, but some don’t.”

  “Well, I can tell them.” Timothy put his hand on the handle.

  “No!”

  Her son froze.

  “You didn’t lie, and I can tell them that,” Adam declared.

  His fervent tone bolstered her spirits. Cara looked from the teen to the children in back. “I want you all to promise me you won’t have anything to do with those people out there. Don’t go near the gate or fence. Promise.”

  Adam gave a curt nod.

  “I won’t, Mom.”

  “Me, too,” Lindsay said between sobs.

  “Let’s get inside. I’ve got a dinner to fix.”

  The whole way to the house, Cara scanned the area, half expecting someone with a sign to pop up from behind a bush and try to stop her. Relief didn’t descend even when she finally closed the French doors, because the second she faced Noah she knew he didn’t realize what was going on outside his gate. His puzzled expression quickly grew into one of deep concern as his attention flickered from Adam to Timothy to Lindsay, still crying, and then came to rest on Cara.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “You all go on and start your homework upstairs in your rooms.” Cara wouldn’t look at Noah.

  “But it’s Fri—” Adam’s protest faded as he stared at Cara. “Come on, Lindsay and Timothy. I’ll let you ride the elevator to the second floor with me.”

  When the room cleared of children, Noah walked to her and stood in front so she had to look at him. “Okay, tell me what’s going on.”

  She wanted to make light of the situation, but she still quivered from the animosity she felt as she drove through the demonstrators. She needed to sit and barely made it to the nearest chair before she collapsed into it, squeezing her hands together.

  “Cara, you’ve got me worried.”

  Tears pooled in her eyes as she peered up at him, hovering in front of her. “There are some people who aren’t too happy with me for filing charges against Jake, Brent and Jeremy.”

  “We knew that would happen. Why are you so upset right now?”

  “Because there’s a group of them camped out in front of your gate with posters announcing to the world exactly what they think of me. And let me tell you, they don’t think I’m the girl next door.”

  Fury hardened his features into a fierce expression. He pivoted and headed for the front door.

  Cara leaped to her feet and raced after him, stopping him before he left the house. “No, I don’t want you to get hurt. There are at least ten of them.”

  “I don’t care. They can’t protest on private property.”

  “I think they’re usually in the street by the curb.”

  “Usually?”

  “When I pulled up and the gate opened, they surrounded the car. Thankfully a news crew was there filming or I’m not sure what would have happened.” A shiver slithered down her spine, and cold burrowed deep into her bones.

  He glanced back at the door.

  “Please, Noah. I don’t want to give the press any more than they already have.”

  “They aren’t going to stay out front.” He marched into his study and grabbed the phone, punching in a series of numbers.

  The lethal quiet in his voice as he spoke to the chief of police made Cara glad he was on her side. He appeared calm and in control except for a tic twitching in his jaw. With his protective facade firmly in place, he hung up and rotated toward her.

  “The police will be here soon to clear them away.”

  “That will only make things worse.”

  “They trespassed on my property when they surrounded your car at the gate. I will file charges against each one if they don’t leave. I’m sure it was caught on tape by the TV crew. If not, it was on my security camera at the gate.”

  “Still—”

  He quickly covered the distance between them and pressed his finger to her lips. “Don’t you worry about a thing. You are safe here. I won’t let anything happen to you or the children.”

  His touch traced the outline of her mouth. Her eyes slid closed at the wonderful feel of his rough skin grazing hers. She wanted to melt against him, surrender to the safety she knew would be in his embrace.

  But Laura’s earlier words assailed her. He wasn’t the marrying kind and that was all she could ever be.

  She pulled back. “I need to get dinner started or we’ll have a rebellious crew on our hands.”

  “I’m going to watch the monitor and make sure they leave. I’ll be in the study if you need me.”

  As she prepared spaghetti and meat sauce, she tuned into the news. While cutting up an onion, she stopped midslice when the footage shot in front of the gate came on.

  A picture of her blue Chevy with ten or so people encircling it showed in the background while the reporter said, “As you can see there are some angry protestors outside the home of Noah Maxwell, the owner of The Ultimate Pizzeria Southwest chain of restaurants. Inside the car is Cara Winters, the woman behind the charges being brought against three star baseball players for the Cimarron City University’s team. Jake Ramsey, Brent Bright and Jeremy Newcastle are facing possible jail time if they are convicted of assault and battery. The team’s hopes of a conference championship are jeopardized by this new development—”

  Her hand trembling, Cara flipped the station and the inane music of a game show played while contestants vied for a prize. The reporter had made it sound as though Cara was the reason the players would go to jail—not their actions.

  A strong urge to flee the town flowed through her. She had done nothing wrong, yet she was paying dearly for reporting the young college students’ terrifying behavior.

  Her legs weak, she leaned into the kitchen counter to keep herself upright. She was a fighter. With the Lord’s help, she would come out of this stronger.

  * * *

  On Saturday a week later Cara sat at the kitchen table, finishing her cup of coffee while Noah downed the rest of his. “Are you sure you want to do this? All three can be a handful.”

  “Who should I tell to stay back?”

  “Maybe I should come with you.”

  “I’m not totally hopeless when it comes to the children. They have been here three weeks, and I think I’ve done pretty good if you forget about the kitten incident.”

  “I can but I’m not sure they can.” Cara fought to keep her laughter inside but it leaked through.

  “Okay, I didn’t realize Timothy had sneaked a kitten from the farm. I thought I was rescuing a stray by taking him to Peter.”

  “I think they sneaked it in that day they had their backpacks and I picked them up after school at Laura’s. I didn’t have a clue there was a kitten in the pool cabana.”

  “A kitten that definitely was tired of being confined in there, judging by the pitiful whines,” Noah said wr
yly.

  “Have you decided about going back to get the kitten or not?”

  A frown furrowed Noah’s forehead. “What about Molly? She’s so big and the kitten is so small.”

  “That puppy doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. I think it will be fine.” Cara saw her son peep around the corner into the kitchen. “Timothy wanted me to ask you if he could keep the kitten. He says you won’t even know it’s here.”

  “Why don’t you ask me yourself, Timothy?” Noah twisted around in his chair and looked straight at her son.

  With his head down, Timothy shuffled into the room. “Can I keep Bosco?”

  “Yes, but you need to make sure Molly and Bosco get along okay. Can you be responsible for that?”

  Timothy nodded, a huge grin on his face.

  “Then we’ll go over to the farm after we go fishing and pick Bosco up.”

  Her son pumped his arm in the air, saying, “Yes!” then ran from the kitchen shouting for Rusty.

  “I didn’t have the heart to tell him I think I’m allergic to cats. I sneezed the whole way to the farm with Bosco in my car.” Noah rose and took his mug to the sink.

  “You are? Then maybe this isn’t a good idea. I can get him a pet when we’ve permanently settled somewhere.”

  Noah’s eyebrows slashed downward. “No, Timothy has definitely bonded with Bosco.”

  Cara tried to read the strange look that passed over Noah’s face, but she couldn’t tell exactly what he was feeling, which wasn’t that much of a surprise. He was very good at concealing his emotions, she suspected from years of experience. “Then I’ll make sure he keeps the kitten away from you.”

  “And Molly.”

  “For never having had a pet, you’re certainly getting into this. I saw you tossing Molly a ball out back yesterday.”

  He dismissed her comment with a wave of his hand. “She needs exercise.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  He pinched his mouth into a mock frown. “She does! I’ll get the fishing equipment from the cabana and meet y’all by the pool.”

  He hurried from the kitchen before he revealed the turmoil racing through him. Why had Cara’s comment about finding a permanent place bothered him? This was temporary. From the beginning that had been clear to both of them. And yet, picturing her someplace other than his guesthouse didn’t seem right.

  He glanced back at his place and for the first time really saw it as a home. Before it had been just a house for him to come home to, unwind and sleep. Now something was different, and if he thought long enough on it, he was sure it was because of Cara and the children.

  Panic bubbled to the surface. It was just the novelty of the situation. Soon it would wear off and he would be yearning for his carefree, no-strings-attached kind of life. There was just so much bickering, whining, pouting, laughing and hugging a guy could take. Most of his experience with families wasn’t good. He had to remember that. Those couple of years with the Hendersons were the exception.

  Out in the cabana he quickly gathered up the fishing poles and his tackle box. By the time he emerged the children and Cara were waiting by the pool watching Molly swim.

  He tried to skirt her as she came out of the pool, but she homed in on him, flapping her head and spraying him with water. Then, as usual, the puppy jumped up, resting her paws on his chest as she licked him in greeting.

  In his toughest voice, Noah said, “Down, Molly. Down.”

  A few more slobbers of her tongue and she obeyed.

  “She likes you,” Cara said, laughter in her voice.

  “I kinda get that, but why?”

  “Because she sees a pet lover in the making.”

  Noah pointed to himself. “Me? No way.”

  Without a word, Rusty took the pole Noah handed him. Although the boy had apologized to the child he’d had problems with at school, he had made it clear by his silence he hadn’t wanted to. Other than when he had to, he didn’t talk to Cara or him. At least Noah heard him converse with the other kids.

  The children ran ahead while Noah walked with Cara at a more sedate pace. “I’m glad they’re getting better with their swimming lessons.”

  “Lindsay actually paddled all the way across the pool yesterday. Rusty is a natural, like Timothy. I wish Adam could have come along, but I’m glad he’s pitching in at the farm.”

  “Peter told me he’s following Roman around and asking all kinds of questions about the animals. He told me this summer he wanted to work at a vet’s.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I told him if he was still with me I thought that was a good idea.” He didn’t tell Cara about the disappointment he’d seen in Adam’s eyes because he couldn’t explain the disappointment he’d felt when talking with the teen.

  “The assistant D.A. called yesterday.”

  Noah slowed his pace even more and took in Cara’s tense features. “And?”

  The trial will start the week after next on Thursday.”

  “I’m thinking the college wants this settled before the championship series, if they make it. The team is having problems with the three players benched, pending the verdict of your case and the public intoxication charges. Too bad the D.A. dropped the DUI against Brent since they were parked when the police appended them,” Noah said.

  “There are more than a few people not happy with me because they’re not playing. I didn’t get to tell you what happened at the grocery store yesterday.”

  Halting, Noah faced Cara, knowing he wasn’t going to like what she had to say.

  “A man chewed me out at the checkout counter. Then another said something I won’t repeat as I left. In my haste I forgot to get your sales receipt. I thought about going back to get it, but I’d rather pay for the groceries myself than—”

  “Shh.” Anger gripped him. “You won’t pay for anything. I don’t need a receipt. I admire your honesty and know you would never try to rip me off.”

  She lifted glistening eyes to him. “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m very sure. In fact, I don’t need a receipt from now on. I never did. I trust you.”

  “But I’d rather—”

  He moved in closer, stopping the flow of her words. “No, I’m the employer. You have to do what I say.”

  She looked into his eyes for a long moment, then burst out laughing until tears ran down her cheeks. “Don’t let this boss thing go to your head.”

  He loved the sound of her laughter. It wormed its way into his heart, making him vulnerable to her. How had he ever seen her as a plain woman? There was nothing ordinary and unattractive about her.

  “Mom! C’mon!”

  “Our troops await us or rather you since you won’t ever get me to bait a hook or take a fish off the line.” Cara started toward her son, who stood by the pond with his feet braced apart and holding his pole like a spear.

  The warm April sun glittered across the water’s mirrorlike surface. A male mallard duck took flight, his mate following. Another one paddled across the pond with her brood trailing after her.

  “See the babies, Cara?” Lindsay pointed at the family, the male duck taking up the rear. “I didn’t see them the last time I came down here.”

  “I found a nest under that bush.” Timothy nodded his head toward a large shrub halfway on the other side. “I wonder if those are the babies.”

  “Can we go check?” Lindsay tugged on Timothy’s arm.

  “Not now. I want to fish.” Cara’s son shrugged away from the little girl.

  “I’ll take you.” Cara offered Lindsay her hand. “We’ll let the guys fish while we explore.”

  Noah watched Cara and Lindsay begin to circle the pond until Rusty started rummaging through his bait box.

  “Where are the worms?” the nine-year-old asked, a challenging look on his face.

  “I don’t fish with worms. Too messy. I use hot dogs.”

  “Hot dogs? I’ve never heard of that. Everyone uses worms.”

  �
��My fish haven’t heard that one. I’ve never had any trouble catching some when I use my special bait.”

  Humphing, Rusty rose. Skepticism wrinkled his forehead as he squinted at Noah. The boy glanced toward Timothy as though his friend would come to his defense.

  “Tell you what. I’ll use my hot dog bait while you dig for a worm and use that. Let’s see who get a fish first.”

  Rusty’s face brightened. “I will.” He scanned the area, decided on a place to dig and began searching for a worm.

  “Timothy, which do you want to use?” Noah asked, getting a hot dog out to cut into small pieces.

  Cara’s son peered at his friend then at him. Finally Timothy gestured toward Rusty. Friendship had won out, as it should. Noah smiled as he observed them burrowing a hole into the earth, a small hill of dirt building up between the boys.

  Laughter drifted to Noah. In the distance by the bush Lindsay peered through the foliage. Even from where he was, he could tell she was excited. Then suddenly a snow goose charged out from under the scrub and darted for her. Cara stepped in between the girl and the enraged goose. It nipped Cara on the bare part of her leg.

  Lindsay whirled about and ran back toward Noah. Cara came at a slower pace, limping slightly. The goose pursued her part of the way, honking. Both of the boys, the knees of their jeans encrusted with mud, stood and stared at the animal flapping its wings.

  Rusty held a wiggling worm between his forefinger and thumb. “I’ve got my bait.”

  Empty-handed, Timothy trudged after his friend. “I guess I’d better use the hot dog.”

  A few minutes later as Cara and Lindsay approached, the boys attempted to cast their lines out into the water. Rusty succeeded; Timothy snarled his.

  Noah quickly put a hot dog on his hook, launched it out into the middle of the pond, then gave the pole to Lindsay. “If you feel a tug, reel it in this way.”

  After demonstrating to the girl how to bring the fish in, Noah took Timothy’s pole and began to untangle it. The line was knotted so badly Noah decided to put it aside. He’d have to fix it later. Until then, he gave Cara’s son the last fishing rod and went through the steps with him again.

  This time Timothy managed to cast it out a few feet, but Noah could see the tangles in the line. He groaned.