Toys and Baby Wishes

by Karen Rose Smith

  Toys And Baby Wishes

  by

  Karen Rose Smith

  Finding Mr. Right series, Book 5

  Published by Karen Rose Smith for Kindle

  Copyright 2011 Karen Rose Smith

  Recently Revised and Updated Edition

  Original Copyright 1996 Karen Rose Smith

  Original Title: Toys and Wishes

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  www.karenrosesmith.com/

  www.karenrosesmithmysteries.com/

  CHAPTER ONE

  "What in blazes is going on here?"

  Lexa Kittredge almost dropped the porcelain figurine she'd lifted from Clare Flannigan's bookshelf. Before she could answer, Clare slipped from behind the desk she'd been dusting.

  "Josh! You're back!" She pushed her blue glasses farther up her nose. "Lexa, this is my nephew, Josh Flannigan. Josh, meet Alexandra Kittredge."

  Lexa only had time to nod before Clare rushed on, "So how was Colorado, Josh? You deserved that long vacation. Anything exciting happen? Meet any bears?"

  Lexa suppressed a smile, recognizing Clare's attempt to turn the focus of the conversation on her nephew, rather than the disordered state of her apartment.

  "Aunt Clare, what's going on?"

  His question was directed at Clare but his gaze was on Lexa. Suddenly she wished they'd opened a window. She hadn't noticed it before, but the heat in Clare's apartment was stifling. Her sweatshirt was sticking uncomfortably to her shoulders. It wasn't supposed to be this hot in Pennsylvania in October, Indian summer or not. Or did the sudden rise in temperature have something to do with Josh Flannigan's piercing blue eyes, the same startling blue as Clare's?

  "I'm moving."

  Josh's attention flew to his aunt. "You're what?"

  Clare climbed onto the step stool to remove books from the top shelf of the bookcase. "I'm moving. Some friends and I have invested in a lovely old house," she explained airily as if she did something like this at least once a week.

  Josh's fingers dashed through his shaggy black hair. "Have you taken leave of your senses?"

  Lexa set the figurine back on the shelf and took a step forward, deciding it might be time to help Clare explain the situation to her nephew. She offered her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Flannigan. Clare's told me so much about you."

  Josh's gaze switched back to her. "And just who are you?"

  "Joshua, don't be rude!" Clare scolded.

  He took Lexa's hand but also took the time to give her a more thorough looking-over. She didn't have to guess at what he saw. Sweatshirt and jeans. Curly blonde hair that probably looked as if she'd just escaped a stiff wind. Shiny face. "I'm a friend of Clare's."

  He dropped her hand. "Since when?"

  "Josh..."

  "It's all right, Clare. About two months ago Clare came to a workshop I was giving," Lexa explained.

  "About?" Josh looked at Clare as if she'd been bitten by some strange bug.

  "Senior citizens developing second careers."

  "Oh, great. Just what Clare needs when she's finally retired."

  "You don't know what I need." Clare's tone matched the fiery hue of her red hair.

  "Mr. Flannigan, your aunt has acted very responsibly."

  "Where did you get the money?" Josh asked his aunt.

  "I had money saved."

  Josh's hand slashed through the air. "But that was your nest egg. I don't believe you've done something so...

  impulsive."

  Clare exploded. "It's about time I'm impulsive if I want to be impulsive."

  Lexa took a deep breath. She had to do something to prevent a full-blown fight. "I've directed Clare to an experienced financial advisor."

  Josh shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "Clare, you can't be serious about moving. You've lived in this apartment all your life. I've lived here much of mine. The rent's always been reasonable, you don't have to worry about mowing grass or shoveling snow." He looked around the room at the chaos. "My God! I go away for six weeks and when I come back, you're packing boxes."

  Clare shrugged and took Lexa's place at the bookshelves. She reached to the top shelf for two volumes of poetry. "I'm doing the right thing. Ask Lexa."

  Acting as a buffer wasn't Lexa's favorite position. She'd had to do it too many times between her younger sister and their stepmother. But at least she'd had practice. "I think you're doing what you want to do. That makes it right."

  Striding toward Clare, Josh took the books from her hand and dumped them into an open carton. His denim jacket emphasized the width of his shoulders, and the snug fitting jeans encased long legs and muscular thighs. He wasn't drop-dead handsome, but even with the beard stubble, he'd certainly do. Do for what? Lexa asked herself, then pushed every possible answer out of her head.

  "I want to know where you got this crazy idea," Josh was saying. "Do you know the work you're letting yourself in for? The hassles?"

  Clare's eyes threw rebellious darts. "What about the joy? The challenge? The thrill of a new adventure? Just because I'm over sixty, Joshua Flannigan, is no reason to put me out to pasture. I'm still alive and kicking more than ever. Thirty-five years of teaching English to teenagers is not enough to wear me out or put me in a rocking chair."

  She pointed her finger at him. "You thought I'd be happy retired, you thought I'd be happy living a life of leisure. Well, if it wasn't for the senior center this past year, I'd have gone crazy! Lexa thinks this is a magnificent idea and I expected more support from you."

  Josh pushed his jacket flaps aside and stuffed his hands in his back pockets as if he were considering the best way to reason with his aunt. "Don't you thing you're acting recklessly?"

  Lexa squared her shoulders. This was going to be more difficult than she'd expected. "Mr. Flannigan, your aunt came to talk to me because she was bored, because she was feeling useless, because sitting here by herself was making her feel ancient."

  Josh's blue eyes were steady and concerned as they swung back to Clare. "Aunt Clare, all you have to do is call me. I can spend more time with you."

  "What nonsense!" Clare planted her hands on her hips. "You're thirty-four, You have your own life to live and so do I."

  Realizing her presence increased the tension, Lexa stepped forward. "Clare, it might be better if I wait in the other room."

  "Don't let Josh chase you out."

  Lexa crossed the room. "He's not. I think you two need to hash this out on your own. I'll take down the wall decorations in the living room."

  Josh moved aside to let Lexa pass, wondering how to keep his aunt from making the biggest mistake of her life. He cared about her too much to let her put herself in financial jeopardy, let alone create more work for herself than she needed.

  Lexa's delicate perfume lingered, teasing him. After weeks of smelling only damp earth and woods, the scent affected him. Or maybe it was her seeming fragility--the big brown eyes, that fluffy blond hair. She certainly looked harmless. So what was she doing meddling in Clare's life?

  Josh turned toward his aunt, his black brows pulling together in an effort to concentrate on her problem. "Is a rambling old house going to give you a new life? I think it's going to give you headaches. Think of the money you'll waste on repairs. Something always needs to be fixed in old houses. Who's going to pay for that?"
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  Clare's tone was defensive. "Lexa says it doesn't need many repairs. The door frames need a fresh coat of paint. That's all."

  The last thing he wanted to do was dismiss or hurt Clare's feelings. She had given him a home since he was twelve and he loved her dearly. But the idea of her giving up her nest egg worried him. If Alexandra Kittredge had influenced Clare unduly, there'd be hell to pay.

  "How does Lexa know what repairs this house needs?" Josh asked, amazed at the confidence Clare was placing in a stranger who could be a con artist, even if she didn't look like one.

  "She knows the real estate agent. She says he's honest and would tell us if anything else was wrong. My partners and I looked at the whole place carefully."

  Partners. His aunt was involved over her head; he knew it. "You have no experience dealing with people who might be less than honest. A real estate agent has one thing on his mind--selling. As for your partners, who are they and what do they know?"

  Clare's lips tightened. "I do not have the time or inclination to keep arguing with you. I have to be packed in five days."

  "Five days? You mean the deal's closed...finished? You did this without consulting me?"

  His aunt's voice was even, but silver sparks studded her blue eyes. "I'm an adult. I don't have to consult you. And how could I anyway when you were off in no-man's land back-packing?"

  "You could have waited. You knew my timetable."

  She gently clasped his arm. "I'm doing this whether you approve or not. We had to move fast on the house. Someone else wanted it. We settle on Friday and I intend to move in Saturday."

  Whenever he argued with Clare, he felt as if he was running against the wind. She could be so bullheaded. He wanted what was best for her but he wasn't sure this was it. "You're moving too fast; I don't like the whole thing."

  His aunt gave him a pat, then crossed to the desk and picked up a can of furniture polish. "I've made my decision, Josh. You're not going to change my mind so you might as well stop trying. I have a lot to do and not much time to do it. If you're going to help, you're welcome to stay."

  Josh closed his eyes for a moment. He was tired. He had driven the last seven hours, anxious to get home, anxious to see how the toy stores were faring without him, anxious to find out what his aunt had been up to. No one had heard him knock, so he'd walked in. He'd never expected this. The deal wouldn't be settled until Friday, so it could still fall through or be cancelled.

  "I'm going to talk to Ms. Kittredge."

  "You're not going to bully her. This was totally my decision, no one else's."

  "I want to know some details."

  "So ask me!"

  "You're too busy packing."

  "Josh--"

  "Aunt Clare," he parroted with the same wary intonation.

  Clare threw her hands up in surrender. "Okay. But don't make her feel guilty or anything else. She's been an extraordinary help. I wouldn't have been able to do this without her."

  Josh believed that. But why had she torn his aunt's life apart? He was determined to find out exactly what Lexa Kittredge had to do with this whole mess, and what kind of influence she obviously held over his aunt.

  His footsteps were muffled by the carpet in the hallway. But when he entered the living room, Lexa turned toward him, as if sensing he was there.

  She propped the painting she was holding against a sofa arm and sat down next to it. "Clare is sure about the plans she's made."

  Josh's expression was grim. "Are they her plans or someone else's?"

  Lexa stared up at him and didn't seem to take offense at his protective concern. "They're her plans."

  There were smudges of blue under Lexa's eyes. Did she stay up late? Did she live with someone? He glanced at her hand. No ring on her finger. He wondered how she spent her free time and whom she spent it with, then immediately banished the thought.

  He had to remind himself she could be manipulating his aunt for some gain of her own. His words were brisk. "Convince me. Convince me that you had nothing to do with her pouring her life savings into an old house, nothing to do with her turning her life topsy-turvy at her age. She said you've been advising her. What gives you that right?"

  "I have that right because I have the qualifications and because I'm her friend. I have been since the workshop."

  He crossed his arms over his chest. "I can't believe she was interested in a second career. She can't possibly want to work again. She has a teacher's pension and social security."

  "Why wouldn't she want to work again?" Lexa sat farther back on the sofa, clearly making herself at home. "These days, it's almost a necessity."

  "She doesn't need to work. She's financially secure. If she needs anything, I'm here to help."

  Lexa shook her head. "Maybe she doesn't need to work right now, but she needs--"

  "How do you know what she needs? You can't just advise people without knowing their situation."

  Her cheeks flushed. "Mr. Flannigan, I majored in social work and I minored in psychology. I run a job counseling and placement center. I didn't go looking for your aunt, she approached me. She was sad and depressed."

  Josh felt as if she'd kicked him in the stomach. "Depressed? She's always smiling, whistling, doing something. Clare's never depressed. She's the happiest person I know and you can't seriously tell me--"

  "I can seriously tell you she was depressed. Just how much time have you spent with her the past six months?"

  During the past six months he had been working more than usual, making sure his management and sales teams were running without a hitch so he could squeeze in a much-earned, overdo vacation before the Christmas rush. True, he hadn't seen his aunt much...

  Hell, why was he feeling defensive? Ms. Kittredge was the one who had probably put this hare-brained scheme into his aunt's head. "What does that have to do with this?"

  "Relatives always seem to be the last to see discontent. If you had sat down with Clare and really listened to what she was saying, you might have realized..." When he was about to interrupt, Lexa held up her hand like a stop sign. "Please let me finish."

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets and gave her a nod to go ahead.

  Eye level with Josh's waist, Lexa saw the denim pull across his thighs. Realizing he had noticed where her gaze had strayed, she flushed slightly and raised her eyes to his. "Clare's friends at the center know she's been unhappy the past year. So I'm not telling you anything that's confidential. They persuaded her to come to the workshop and to see me. After we talked, I realized she didn't really want to get back in the work force, but she wanted something to put meaning in her life."

  "So you advised a venture that could wipe out her life savings and give her more work than she can handle."

  "I advised no such thing. I told her to think about what she liked to do, what she wanted to do, and what she did best. She took it from there. She talked to other seniors and discovered she wasn't the only one who was feeling lonely and empty. She wants to care for people. That's what she did for thirty-five years. She found two other people who want to do the same thing. They want to share their lives, take care of and depend on each other."

  Josh was feeling more and more guilty. He didn't like the feeling so he struck out. "And I suppose you don't get anything out of this? You're just a do-gooder who goes around solving people's problems, giving direction to their lives?"

  Lexa's eyes told him he had struck a nerve, that she had heard the accusation before. "I've helped Clare find a road that will bring her happiness, the same kind of happiness my volunteer work gives me. You're not thinking about Clare's life, you're thinking about the easiest route for yourself so you don't have to worry about her."

  The static between them crackled. "You have no right to judge me."

  She stood. "And you have no right to judge my motives or your aunt's capabilities. Clare's an older woman, not elderly, certainly not decrepit. She has wisdom, experience, maturity, and goals. Goals and aspirations don't die
because you reach fifty or fifty-five or sixty. She's smart, interesting, and has a lot to share and no one to share it with."

  "She has me!"

  Lexa tipped her head back. "And you think you're enough to fill her world? Get serious. That might have been true when you were a recalcitrant teenager, but it's certainly not true now."

  He felt at a definite disadvantage. If his aunt had told this woman about some of his escapades, Lexa was one up on him. "Aunt Clare's an innocent when it comes to financial matters. How does she know she can meet the mortgage payments, repairs, taxes?"

  "If you talk to your aunt...calmly," Lexa emphasized, "You'll realize she's not going into this blindly. The widower who's moving in with her is an accountant."

  "You have an answer for everything, don't you?" he goaded, suddenly wanting to get a rise out of her. To that end he stepped closer. Lexa's perfume wafted around his head; his heart suddenly beat harder. A slice of desire startled him.

  "No, I don't. But I've had experience with scores of people."

  "The truth is you feel powerful influencing people's lives, changing their direction," he accused.

  "The truth is, Mr. Flannigan, it makes me feel good, not powerful. The truth is you don't want to let go of your aunt. The truth is you don't want her to be independent and not need you. And the truth is I don't think you'd know the truth if it bit you in the seat of your too-tight jeans!"

  Josh needed to regroup. Alexandra Kittredge had brought up some wrinkles he hadn't anticipated--wrinkles that, if she was telling the truth, couldn't easily be smoothed away. "I want what's best for Clare, what's good for her."

  "You might not know what that is. Only she knows. I'll leave so you can discuss this without interference."

  He reached for Lexa's arm and when his fingers closed around it, he saw the same jolt of awareness he experienced reflected in her eyes. "Don't leave without saying good-bye to her. She'll think I ran you out the door."

  "Clare loves you. She needs and wants your support. This isn't easy for her."

  Josh's eyes narrowed. Lexa sounded so sincere. If she was on the level, he wondered what had drawn her to Clare, what made her care so much. He released her arm and let his hand drop to his side. "I want to see her happy. But I want her safe."