The Second Family

by Janice Carter

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IT TOOK HIM a minute to realize what was happening. In the bustle of the Bronco doors opening and slamming shut, Alec hadn’t clued in to the effect of arriving home on the other three. The silence was the first signal.

  Molly no longer burbled on about showing off her room, but hung back in the drive. When Alec turned around from unlocking the front door with the key he’d obtained—after some persuasion—from Jed Walker, he noticed Nick standing at the rear of the Bronco, kicking its tire as if he had nothing better to do. Tess was leaning against the front right bumper, staring, transfixed, at the house.

  At first, Alec had assumed she was silenced by its beauty, because even for the trendy suburban areas of Boulder, the house was simple but stunning. Especially the gardens around it, where native wildflowers blended in with strategically planted succulents and hardy perennials. But the pallor of her face hinted at more serious emotions than awe.

  Then he swore at himself. He had been so intent on getting everyone here that he hadn’t considered how they would react to seeing the place again. The kids hadn’t stayed in the house since the night their parents were killed. Tess’s father had disappeared twenty odd years ago and now she was confronted with the very tangible proof of his recent existence.

  He didn’t know how to make the moment easier for any of them, so he merely began to unpack the Bronco and let them wander in when they felt up to it. By the time he’d opened a few of the windows inside, Molly and Nick were drifting around the living room. Tess stood in the foyer, staring at the large oil painting hanging to her left.

  “One of your father’s,” Alec commented as he came to close the front door behind her.

  She seemed at a loss for words so he added, somewhat foolishly he realized in retrospect, “Recognize it?”

  Her face turned slowly toward his. Her eyes were blank and her voice hollow. “Should I?” she asked.

  Alec gave himself a mental kick. He looked at the painting again, avoiding her eyes. “Just that I assumed it was Molly, but I guess it could have been you, at her age.”

  After a moment, she murmured, “When I was her age, my father couldn’t afford to paint on canvases this size. He used wood.”

  Then she moved past him, into the living room. Alec hesitated at the entrance to the large room that formed the short arm of the L of the house. French doors led out to a terrace that ran all along the interior and longer branch of the L. The kids had already disappeared into that wing. Checking out their rooms, he guessed. Perhaps wondering if any facsimile of their former lives would ever be possible. And probably concluding—at least from Nick’s point of view—likely not.

  Alec sighed. “Look,” he said, getting her attention from the stone fireplace and the oil portrait of Gabriela Wheaton that hung above it. “There’s something I have to tell you.” He hesitated at the instant narrowing in her eyes. “Just that I have to get permission from the Sullivans—the current foster parents—for the kids to stay here with you. They know I went to bring them back but no one was certain whether or not you’d be coming, too.”

  “Staying here? I…I assumed I’d be staying at a hotel in Boulder. I thought we were coming to pick up some of their things.”

  “Well…uh, we could do that I suppose. I haven’t really made any commitment with the kids but I’ve got a feeling they might want to stay here with you.” He saw right away that she didn’t like that idea and quickly added, “I think it would be better for them to be together in a familiar setting.”

  “But won’t it be painful?”

  “Yes, it will be. But not as painful as going back to the Sullivans’, wondering how much longer they’ll be together.”

  She wiped a hand across her face. “I’m afraid if we all stay here together that…that certain expectations will be raised.”

  Of course they will, he was thinking. And if you’re the decent person I think you are—under that executive skin—you’ll make sure those kids won’t be let down.

  He watched her back toward the front door, as if making her escape. Slow down, Malone. You’re pushing her into a corner. She has to work things out for herself.

  “We could ask the kids what they want to do, but let them know right up-front that it’s only going to be a temporary arrangement.”

  She was shaking her head. Wishing she’d never agreed to come? he wondered. “I’ll ask them right now,” he said before she had a chance to kill the idea. He swiftly made for the hall leading to the rest of the house, sensing her eyes tracking him out of the room.

  As he’d suspected, Molly was all for the plan and Nick saw through it at once. “Aren’t we just putting off the inevitable?” he mumbled.

  Alec crouched beside the bed where Nick sat. “Look fella, you have a point. But it doesn’t have to be that way. You could get to know her—bring her around to the idea of having a family again.”

  A faint scowl crossed Nick’s face. “She’s not into kids.”

  He was no fool, Alec had to admit. And he was justifiably cynical. “But she may eventually come round to the notion of having two kids in her life. Think about how you can help her change her mind,” Alec said quietly as he stood up.

  “Nick,” Molly said, placing a small hand on her brother’s knee. “What’s Alec talking about? Do we have to go back to the Sullivans’ after all?”

  Alec headed for the door, afraid he’d be tempted to swoop her up into his arms and promise she’d never have to leave. He heard Nick whisper, “No, Mol. Not yet anyway.” Then, in a more resigned voice, “Okay. We’ll stay here until she decides.”

  “What about Squiggly?”

  “We’ll get her in the morning,” Alec turned around to say. On the way to the living room, he mentally repeated Nick’s last words. Until she decides.

  Not Tess, but she. He couldn’t help wonder how long the thirteen-year-old would be content to let others control his future.

  TESS HAD NO IDEA what time it was, but suspected daylight was still a long way off. She had the other twin bed in Molly’s room and hadn’t slept at all. In spite of her size, Molly could toss, turn, grind her teeth and snore as well as any man sleeping off a binge. You could have had the master bedroom, Tess reminded herself. And shivered again at the notion. Sleeping in her dead father’s bed. Of course, Alec had tried to reason with her.

  “It’s not as if you really knew him as a father,” he’d said.

  Which had stung. “I had eight years of him,” she’d countered angrily. “The most impressionable years of my life.” And when she’d seen that look in his face, she knew he was sorry but didn’t care. She didn’t need his pity.

  Tess rolled onto her side and stared bleakly into the dark. She shouldn’t have agreed to come. Staying here with the kids merely compounded the mistake of her decision. If she’d stayed at a hotel as she’d planned, she could have kept the whole family thing at arm’s length. Driven off to the airport in a few days with a friendly but casual goodbye. Instead, she could feel herself sinking into the whole mess as if she’d played some part in it all along.

  She didn’t know this family. She didn’t want to know it. She simply wanted to go back home and continue with her life. Yeah, right. Get real, Wheaton. It’s not going to happen that easily.

  Tess swung her legs off the bed and sat up. I’ve got to start making some decisions of my own, she thought. Otherwise Alec Malone will manipulate me to the very place he’s been trying to put me since he arrived on my doorstep in Chicago. Then he can close his case with the satisfaction of a job completed. While I…she closed her eyes, unwilling to face even the remote possibility of a future in Boulder, Colorado.

  She eased off the bed, careful not to disturb Molly, though she doubted her slight movements would. Tess smiled. At least the girl was getting a good night’s rest. Surprisingly, there’d been no sobbing episodes tonight. Tess had been prepared for something, but after prattling on about what they could do in the morning and getting Tess to tuck h
er in again, Molly had cheerfully gone to bed as if nothing painful had happened in her short life.

  Perhaps Alec was right about their need for a familiar context, Tess grudgingly admitted. Molly could be sleeping well because for the first time in weeks, she’s home with people she knows and trusts. Even if one of those people will probably have to break that trust. Tess pushed the thought aside and headed first to the bathroom, then to the kitchen for a glass of cold water.

  Standing at the sink, she stared out to the terrace, lit by a moon that was almost full. The house had been carefully designed so that every room faced the terrace side of the L and had a stunning view of the foothills and mountains in the distance. A long hallway illuminated by skylights was the artery connecting the rooms. And of course, there was art everywhere—on the walls, with sculptures and pottery on shelves and tabletops. The latter was the work of Gabriela, as Nick had nonchalantly informed Tess. She set her empty glass on the porcelain drain board and rubbed her damp fingers across her forehead.

  What am I doing here? she asked herself for the umpteenth time since stepping foot in Richard Wheaton’s home. Which only begged the next question—how am I going to gracefully leave? She sighed. There was no win-win here for her. That much was certain.

  She turned to head back to the bedroom when a shadow appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Nick?” she whispered.

  “No, it’s me. Alec. I heard someone prowling around and wondered if Molly was sleepwalking.”

  He stepped forward until the moonlight caught him in its grasp. Tess was grateful that her own face was in shadow. Clad only in boxer shorts, he hardly represented the image of a social worker. At least, not any she’d ever known and there’d been a few in the years before and just after Mavis took her in. But then striving for a professional ideal was definitely not his style, otherwise he would never have agreed—at Nick and Molly’s pleading—to stay overnight.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

  She shifted her eyes from the well-toned smoothness of his broad chest to his face, aware that she’d been staring. “No. Molly’s a restless sleeper and I was thirsty. What’s this about sleepwalking? Does she?”

  “Her foster parents reported one incident, but it was her second night with them and no doubt an anomaly, rather than part of a pattern.”

  Well, she thought, he can talk like a social worker when he wants to. He didn’t continue the conversation and she was tired. It was time to go back to bed, except Alec’s body filled the space between the door and the hall beyond.

  Finally, he said, “Thirsty? Feeling out of breath and headachey, too? Takes a few days to adjust to the altitude here. Drink lots of water.”

  “Right,” she murmured, wondering if he ran a medical clinic on the side, too. She moved toward the door. “Guess I should get back to bed. No doubt Molly will be up early.”

  “No doubt.”

  But he didn’t stand aside and when Tess was close enough, he reached out a hand to her forearm, stopping her. “Thanks for agreeing to stay a few days, Tess.”

  Her eyes traveled from his hand, along his arm, back to his chest and eventually settled on his face. His body radiated heat, embracing her in an unexpected intimacy that was suddenly overwhelming. When she edged away, he let go of her, averting his face slightly so that he seemed to be talking to someone behind and to her right.

  “It means a lot to the kids,” he went on, “and it’ll make things easier for you, too, helping them go through the estate stuff. Walker seems to be in a hurry to do that, for some reason.”

  Tess cleared her throat, trying to focus on what was supposed to be business talk. Except the air around them sparked with an energy that she figured some madcap genie had gleefully released into the room. The skin beneath her own Joe Boxer shorts and camisole literally tingled. She’d known this man scarcely forty-eight hours, had sparred constantly with him during that time and now—for some perverse reason—the sight of him in undershorts had her in a tizz.

  Annoyed at this fickle betrayal of her body, Tess purposely nudged past him into the hallway. “Good night,” she said, forcing nonchalance into her voice, and without a backward glance, made her escape.

  HE DIDN’T MOVE until she left the room. Then he headed for the sink and poured himself a glass of cold water. What was that all about? A perfectly normal conversation suddenly zapped by some kind of charge. Alec chugged the water and set the glass back on the drain board. Who was he kidding? He’d known all along it was Tess wandering about. Her tread was heavier than Molly’s and Nick’s room was at the far end of the hall, next to the master bedroom suite. So what crazy impulse had levitated him from the family room sofa to the kitchen?

  Probably the same one that had compelled him to break more rules than usual since he met Tess Wheaton. Alec swiped a hand through his hair and scratched his scalp. What the heck is going on, fella? Sure, you can spout all the right jargon to convince everyone that what you’re doing is essentially part of your job but hey, let’s be real. It’s not like you offer to camp out at any other client’s house to supposedly help someone over a rough spot. So get those hormones in check and go take a cold shower. But do something quick, before you ruin everything. Like Nick and Molly’s best shot at having a normal life again.

  AS TESS had predicted, Molly was awake at the crack of dawn and ready for breakfast.

  “I don’t think there’ll be any food, do you?” Tess asked, yawning and rubbing her eyes at the same time. “Didn’t Alec say he’d take us grocery shopping today?”

  “There’s usually stuff in the freezer,” Molly said. “You know, like orange juice and waffles. We used to have syrup.” Her voice was wistful.

  Tess turned her head to look at Molly, sitting cross-legged on the twin bed across from her. An expression of profound sadness filled the small face. She’s thinking about other things they used to have, too. Like parents.

  “Okay. Give me five minutes in the shower and we’ll put on our winter hats and mittens and go exploring in the deep freeze.”

  That brought a smile. “See,” Molly said, “you can be funny, too. Like Alec.”

  “Whoopdeedoo!” Tess cracked, which elicited a giggle. She retrieved a robe and fresh underwear and headed for the door. The hall was still in semidarkness and the rest of the house quiet. Tess padded along the gleaming hardwood floor and stopped at the linen closet right beside the bathroom. The kids had directed her to it last night when they’d been searching for sheets and extra blankets.

  It was a large, double-sided closet, the envy of any homeowner. Tess wondered what kind of wife and mother Gabriela had been. The decor of the house suggested two artistic spirits had worked together, blending simplicity, elegance and comfort. And her portrait, obviously a work of love by her husband, revealed a woman of stunning beauty. Tess pulled out a lush bath towel from the neatly stacked pile, closed the doors and went into the bathroom.

  In daylight, it was even more magnificent. Most of one wall was window, looking out to an alcove of the terrace that had been partitioned off by latticed modesty panels. The centerpiece of the alcove was a miniscule waterfall of fieldstones, which spilled into a tiny pond edged with the same type of wildflowers she’d seen in the front gardens. Beyond, an expanse of field stretched toward the foothills and the shadowy peaks on the horizon. The toilet was tucked away in a corner of the room, but the round whirlpool bath and glass shower stall next to it were perched on a ceramic tiled platform, affording an even better view of the distant hills.

  Tess figured it was as close to bathing outside as she’d ever been. After peeking out to ensure that the lattice framing the windows did provide privacy, Tess stepped into the shower. But her enjoyment of the bathroom’s luxury was tempered by the sobering reminder that while her father had been enjoying the perks of affluence, Mavis McNaught had scrimped to pay their bills. Keep that in mind, Tess, whenever you feel too sorry for those kids. At least they’ve been left with an inheritance.

&nb
sp; As she stepped out of the stall, there was a tap at the door.

  “Tess?”

  “Yes, Molly, what is it?”

  “We don’t have to go exploring after all. Alec got up early and drove to town to get food for breakfast. He wants to know if you’re ready for coffee yet.”

  “Sure. Okay.” Tess heaved a frustrated sigh. There seemed to be no end to Alec Malone’s involvement in whatever she planned. Then, realizing the childishness of the thought, she sighed again. She’d have to stop being annoyed at everything the man did. Reaching some kind of amicable agreement with him about the kids was paramount. That, she resolved, was the main goal. And one of the most important rules of business was to always keep an eye on the goal.

  She bumped into Nick as she left the bathroom.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled hoarsely.

  He looked exhausted, Tess thought. “It’s okay. Apparently breakfast is ready in the kitchen.”

  He peered at her from swollen eyes. “Is it even daylight yet?”

  She smiled. “Just after that, I think. Molly was up early.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, she’s always up first.”

  “That’ll change when she’s a teenager.”

  “Yeah. Guess so.” He managed what could pass for a friendly smile and edged past Tess into the bathroom, softly closing the door behind him.

  She stared at the door a second longer, thinking she could probably call the exchange an improvement, but knew it was still a long way from a conversation. By the time she dressed in jeans and a loose, long-sleeved white shirt, breakfast was well underway in the kitchen. The kids were at the round table set in front of glass sliding doors that opened onto the terrace. Alec was standing at the stove.

  “Tess!” cried Molly, her full mouth spewing out bits of food. “Bacon and pancakes. With blueberries.”

  “Swallow first,” Alec warned. He winked at Tess and pointed to a chair.

  “And guess what?” Molly went on. “We found the syrup, too.”