by Lee Karr
The cords in Harriet’s long neck quivered. “I assure you, Doctor, I have no intention of apologizing. It’s not my good manners that are in question here. I cannot believe that you would come without prior arrangement…or invitation. And arriving at a time when no one is home.”
“But your husband was here,” Tyla countered, irritated and disappointed that Harriet had returned at the exact moment to ruin any hope of communicating further with Mr. Millard.
Harriet drew herself up to all of her five feet ten inches. “Inflicting your presence upon my poor husband is something that I will not tolerate.”
“I assure you that Mr. Millard was not in any discomfort because of my company.”
“And how do you know that?” she snapped. “The poor man has to endure whatever goes on around him.”
“Yes, I know. That must be trying for him at times,” Tyla replied dryly. “Rest assured, I was talking to him, not at him.”
Harriet either missed or decided to ignore the implication. “What have you been telling him?” she demanded. “Don’t think that Doreen and I aren’t on to your little game, Dr. Templeton. But it won’t do you any good. None at all.”
“I fail to follow your direction.”
“Plainly put, you can’t use Cassie to ingratiate yourself into this household. At the moment you may have Clay fooled about your intentions, but he’ll see through you soon enough. Smarter women than you have turned their eyes toward him since Lynette died.”
Like Doreen. Tyla rose to her feet. Harriet’s insufferable arrogance made it very difficult to remain aloof and professional. Tyla didn’t want any part of this conversation. In another minute she’d be trying to defend herself about a situation between her and Clay that was none of this woman’s business.
“Nice to see you, Mr. Millard,” Tyla said pointedly. “And thank you.”
Was there a change in the man’s blank eyes? A deepening of the brown-black irises?
“What are you thanking Karl for? A lot of choice my husband had. You had him trapped and you know it. How could you be so insensitive to someone who is so helpless?”
“Maybe he’s not as helpless as you think.” Tyla impulsively winked at the man.
“Well, I never!” gasped Harriet. “This is outrageous.”
Tyla ignored the angry outburst. “I’ll see myself out.”
“I intend to make a report to your superiors about your callous behavior toward my husband, Dr. Templeton. And you can be sure that Clay will hear about this!”
Tyla walked out of the room without answering. Before she reached the front door, she heard a commotion on the floor above. Marie’s exasperated voice floated down the staircase. “Cassie, you come back here this minute.”
“Let me go!”
“No, you don’t!”
The sound of a scuffle was followed by a child’s wild yell. Tyla went up the carpeted steps and when she reached the landing, she turned in the direction of the commotion.
Halfway down the hall, Marie had Cassie pinned down on the floor and was trying to put on the child’s shoes. Cassie’s legs thrust out in every direction, and she screamed like a banshee.
When Marie looked up and saw Tyla standing there, she turned all colors of the rainbow. “Oh, my gosh!” She loosened her grip on Cassie, and the little girl bolted, running smack into Tyla.
Tyla put her hands on the child’s shoulders to steady her. “Hello, Cassie.”
A look of pure astonishment crossed the child’s face. Her wide eyes and open mouth were almost laughable.
“I guess you’re surprised to see me. I’ve been visiting your grandfather.”
Cassie’s wide, dark eyes never blinked, but Tyla could feel the tension in her little shoulders.
Tyla dropped her hands, stepped back and deliberately put some space between her and the child. She didn’t want to physically dominate the situation just because she was bigger, stronger and an adult. She wanted Cassie to have a choice of running away or staying.
“Cassie won’t let me put on her shoes,” Marie said in an exasperated tone. “She can’t go to the park in her stocking feet. Every morning it’s the same thing. Getting her dressed and putting on her shoes is always a battle.”
The little girl’s stony stare never wavered, and her little mouth was pursed in a belligerent pucker.
“Cassie doesn’t want to get dressed or put on shoes,” Tyla repeated in a neutral tone. Four years was old enough for her to pick out some of her clothes and dress herself without help. This little scene showed that the child had learned to manipulate those around her by refusing to cooperate. Cassie was as wily as a fox when it came to getting her own way. Since one of Tyla’s objectives was to build emotional and physical independence in Cassie, she decided not to pass up this chance to communicate to Cassie her confidence that the little girl could be self-sufficient and responsible.
“Cassie doesn’t want Marie to put on her shoes.” Tyla took the pair of sneakers from Marie’s hand. She held them out to the child and said in a confident tone, “Cassie wants to do it herself.”
Marie’s mouth dropped open when Cassie reached out and took the shoes.
Tyla silently signaled the maid not to say anything. Cassie sat down on the floor and deftly slipped on both shoes. Then she looked up at Tyla. “You help.”
“Cassie needs help?”
She bobbed her head and held up one shoe with a dangling lace.
“Cassie can put on her shoes but she wants help tying the laces.” Tyla knelt and tied the shoestrings in a bow. “Cassie needs help sometimes.” Honesty between them was vital. Tyla wanted her to know that asking for help was all right.
Marie’s approving gaze brightened up her whole face. She was obviously astounded at Tyla’s success. The subtleties of what had happened had probably escaped her, thought Tyla, but Cassie had put on her own shoes and maybe, just maybe, the maid would follow the same pattern and Cassie would do it again.
“Now you can go to the park,” Marie said to the little girl.
“You come, too.” Cassie held out her hand to Tyla. The gesture was so unexpected that her little warm hand was in Tyla’s before she could react. “You come play at the park.”
Nothing would have delighted Tyla more than to go to the park with the little girl, but she couldn’t. Even if she’d had a free morning and wasn’t expected back at the clinic, Tyla would have refused. If the child transferred her emotional dependency to Tyla, any gains they made in cultivating her inner strengths could be lost when their professional contact ended.
She had no idea where the romantic attraction between her and Clay was leading. Her confidence that she could make any relationship work had been shattered when her three-year affair with Ken had ended. She knew better than to build any expectations into anything as volatile as what was happening between her and Clay. She certainly wouldn’t put Cassie’s welfare at risk.
“I can’t go to the park,” Tyla told the little girl. “But I’ll walk to the front door with you.” She kept Cassie’s hand firmly in hers as they walked down the stairs. “I’m glad Cassie gets to go to the park with Marie to play.”
“Miss Tyla play, too,” Cassie said with four-year-old obstinacy. “You push me high, high, high.”
Tyla smiled. She could picture the little girl with her head thrown back, brown curls bouncing around her face and her mouth opened in a breathless squeal. A longing tugged at Tyla’s heart. She’d learned to accept her position at the edges of a child’s life, but sometimes the ache of wanting a child of her own mocked the successes she’d had with other people’s children.
Nelson, the butler, appeared when they reached the front door and opened it for her. She gave him a reassuring smile, sorry he’d been chewed out by Harriet for letting her in. “Thank you.”
Once outside, Tyla gently took her hand from Cassie’s and leaned down so she could meet her eye to eye. “Cassie and Marie will have fun at the park. After lunch Cassie and Marie co
me to see Miss Tyla in the playroom.”
Cassie’s lower lip quivered.
Tyla wanted to pull the child into her arms and hug her, confessing that she’d love to go to the park and push her high, high, high. Instead, she gave her cheek a light stroke and stood up. “Bye. Have fun at the park.” She turned to Marie, who had followed them out. “See you at three.”
“We’ll be there. Come on, Cassie. How about a long ride on the merry-go-round today?”
Tyla watched them walk down the sidewalk toward a small neighborhood park. She blinked back a sudden fullness in her eyes. She wanted to run after that little figure walking so dejectedly with her head down and her shoulders slumped. Cassie looked lost and abandoned.
Tyla bit her lip. Life was unfair. Damned unfair.
On the way back to the clinic, she reined in her emotions and went over everything that had happened during her one-sided talk with Karl Millard. Had she wanted to receive some mental transfer from him so badly that she had imagined the spurt of energy that she’d picked up when she touched him? No, the mental contact had been there, strong and undeniable. She cursed Harriet for destroying the chance to respond to a vibration she was positive had come from him. Up until that moment, there had been nothing to indicate that the man was mentally functioning at all. And then she’d felt that pulsating energy when she had mentioned Lynette’s accident. Why?
Her speculative thoughts spun out in every direction. Had the man simply been reacting to the loss of his daughter? Lynette’s death could be tearing at his insides, and Tyla could imagine how his feelings might have been ignored in the tragedy. But what if it wasn’t grief that had brought the response? What if it was something else?
Tyla drove into her parking space, turned off the engine, and then let her hands rest on the steering wheel. Accident. That had been the key word. She possessed very little information about what exactly had happened the night Lynette was killed. Most of what she knew about the woman’s death came from Barry and his recollection of the newspaper articles.
A chill slithered up Tyla’s spine. Had Lynette’s death been a suicide? Or a tragic mishap? What if Karl was trying to tell her something about the accident? Something that he knew—and nobody else did.
She gave herself a mental shake. Talk about letting your imagination run wild. Better stick to the facts. She decided to go by the public library and see what the newspapers had to say about Lynette Archer’s untimely accident.
Clay held the phone away from his ear. He was surprised by a call from Harriet at his New York hotel. His first reaction was a stab of fear. “Is something the matter with Cassie?”
“I’m not calling about Cassie. She’s fine.”
“Then what—”
“I’ve tried to be reasonable, but enough is enough. You have to do something, Clay. Do you understand?”
“No, I don’t and you’re breaking my eardrum, Harriet. What in the hell is going on?”
“I’m telling you she was here, that infuriating Dr. Templeton. Badgering Karl. Acting as if she had every right to push her way into the house without an appointment or invitation. Nelson let her in. She asked to see Karl, not me, not you, not Doreen, not Cassie— Karl!” Harriet’s strident voice rose and fell in the angry monologue. “No telling what happened before I got here. I’ve never experienced such a lack of professional ethics in my life. Of all the nerve, trying to horn in on another doctor’s patient. I’ve already warned her that I’m going to report her—”
“No, you’re not going to do anything of the sort,” Clay broke in. His tone was as strident as hers. “Use your head, Harriet. Dr. Templeton wasn’t there to steal Karl away from his own doctor.”
“Then why was she here?”
“Certainly not with any nefarious intent to cause Karl harm. Maybe she just wanted to see him.” Clay wasn’t going to admit that he was completely at a loss as to why a busy clinical psychologist like Tyla had made an unexpected visit to a stroke victim who had no means of communication.
“Well, she’d better not show her face around here again, or I’ll show her the door faster than she can blink those guileless eyes of hers.”
“That might be a little difficult, Harriet,” he said in a soft voice that was like butter girded with steel. “You see, I intend to bring Tyla into my house whenever the occasion arises and I expect her to be treated like a welcome guest.”
A strangling sound came over the wire as if Harriet was choking on words lurching up in her throat. “Can’t you see what that woman is doing? Using Cassie to wheedle her way into the family. Doreen is worried and so am I. For heaven’s sake, Clay, get the blinders off your eyes before it’s too late. Think about Cassie. You don’t want an unscrupulous woman like that influencing your child.”
“I have every confidence in Dr. Templeton.”
“Then you’re more the fool than I would have believed.” She hung up without even an abrupt goodbye.
Clay leaned back in his chair and thoughtfully made a tent with his fingers. Why had Tyla come to the house to see Karl? His dark eyebrows drew together. Should he call Tyla and talk the matter over with her? Would she think he was encroaching upon her professional domain? He didn’t want to give the impression that he was questioning her judgment.
He raked his hair with his fingers. What should he do? Why was he so hesitant when it came to this woman? He met other challenges in his life boldly and with confidence, but something about Tyla Templeton made a mockery of all his expertise with the opposite sex. Just thinking about her made his pulse quicken. Since they’d made love, his whole outlook on life had changed. He found himself gazing out into empty space, remembering her smoky blue eyes, the way she felt to his touch, her graceful carriage and the proud lift of her dark head. His thoughts always brought an aching need to lie with her again. He wanted her more than any man should ever want a woman. And that was the hell of it!
He shoved back his chair and stood up. Why did he feel confident in all other areas of his life, but he harbored some deep fear that something traumatic was going to happen and she’d be gone from him forever?
Chapter 15
“Five more minutes before it’s time to go home, Cassie,” Tyla said near the end of the play session several days later. She liked to give a warning so that the end of the period was not abrupt for a child.
During the hour Cassie had wandered around the room, not settling down to any one thing. She seemed unduly restless. None of the toys on the shelves kept her attention for more than a couple of minutes. She kept glancing at Tyla as if waiting for some direction from her about what she ought to do.
What was Cassie thinking? What answers was the child seeking? As much as Tyla wished she could supply Cassie with an understanding of her own feelings, the resolution had to come from within. Tyla could only wait. She was pleased with the progress they’d made inside the playroom, but what about the other twentythree hours in the little girl’s day? How long would it be before Cassie opened up and shared her innermost thoughts?
Cassie climbed into the window seat and pressed her forehead against the windowpane. She closed her eyes, and a muffled sob came from her throat.
Tyla moved quickly to the window seat. Every ounce of her being longed to take the child in her arms and offer the affection that overflowed in Tyla’s heart. Clay’s daughter was much more than one of her clients, and Tyla was ready to admit it, but if she acted on her own feelings, how would Cassie be affected? As a professional she could offer support, but she would fail the child if she allowed her own feelings to create an emotional dependency that only added to Cassie’s other problems.
Tyla laid a tender hand on the trembling little shoulder. “It’s all right, Cassie.”
Cassie pulled back from the glass and clumsily swiped at tears dribbling down her cheeks. She put her fists against her little mouth, dropped her head on her chest and refused to look at Tyla.
“I’m here for Cassie,” Tyla said simply. The little gir
l had been more open since the day at the lake. She’d talked more during their sessions, and Tyla was encouraged that any day Cassie would open the door to her dark thoughts. Maybe this would be the session that Cassie would open up to her, Tyla had thought at the beginning of the hour, but the hope was doomed to disappointment.
They sat in silence as the minutes ticked away. At four o’clock Tyla shook off her disappointment. Maybe next time, she thought. Aloud she said, “Cassie, it’s time to go now.”
Cassie raised her tear-streaked face, and a stubborn look came into her eyes. She didn’t move.
Tyla got to her feet and waited. No, Cassie, no, Tyla prayed silently. She hated a confrontation of this kind. Sometimes a child would resist going home, wanting to stay beyond the hour, and the screaming and kicking youngster had to be taken out of the playroom by a parent or someone in charge. When that happened, Tyla always left the scene, not wanting to be associated with the ugliness and preferring to let the adult in charge handle the tantrum. But she didn’t feel she had that option with Cassie. Marie had already shown that the little girl had the upper hand with her.
Tyla walked over to the door and opened it, waiting. She hoped that her expectant manner would persuade Cassie that there was no bargaining in the situation, but the little girl still didn’t move.
“Time to go, Cassie. Marie is here to take you home,” said Tyla evenly. “She’ll bring you back tomorrow.”
“The little boy comes now?”
“Little boy?”
“Jimmy.”
Tyla had forgotten that she’d told Cassie that Jimmy came to the playroom after her session and was surprised that Cassie had remembered.
Tyla shook her head. “Jimmy’s still in the hospital.”
“Nobody comes to the playroom now?”
“No, but you can’t stay, Cassie,” Tyla said quickly. She silently chuckled at the shrewd thinking of a four-year-old. Cassie must have reasoned that if Jimmy wasn’t coming, she could stay longer. “I have to go to my office now. I’ll walk down the hall with you.”
