An Unexpected Father

by Marie Ferrarella

  His kids. God. Would he ever get used to those words?

  Meanwhile Mrs. Ferguson was apparently searching for something in her desk drawer.

  “Ah, here it is,” she said triumphantly, holding up the business card she had just found and passing it to him. “There you go.”

  Nodding his head, Brady forced himself to smile as he took the card from her. He glanced at the name imprinted on it. It read H. Radcliffe and included a phone number on it.

  Without comment, Brady shoved the card into his pocket. He had no intention of calling whoever this was. In fact, he planned to toss it away the moment he left the building.

  But for now, he played the game.

  “Thank you,” he said, nodding his head at the older woman.

  “You’re most welcome,” Mrs. Ferguson responded. She gave him a penetrating look, as if she could read his thoughts. “I would call that number if I were you,” she emphasized.

  The next moment, the woman was on her phone, making a call.

  Brady took that as his cue to leave, but when he started to, one hand around each twin’s hand, Mrs. Ferguson held up her forefinger, keeping the harried guardian in his place.

  “Jenny?” she said to whoever picked up the phone on the other end, “I have two new students who need to be brought to Mrs. Nelson’s room.”

  “Who’s Mrs. Nelson?” Toby wanted to know, not bothering to keep his voice down.

  “I don’t want to go to her room,” Tyler cried, once again wrapping himself around Brady’s leg.

  Mrs. Ferguson had no sooner hung up than the young woman she had called—Jenny, looking as if she had been one of the students here a short while ago—stepped inside the registration office.

  “You called, Mrs. Ferguson?” the lively-looking young blonde asked.

  “Yes, I did.” The administrator gestured toward the twins. “Toby and Tyler need to be taken to their new classroom,” she told Jenny, then turned toward Brady. “You’re free to go now, Mr. Fortune. Don’t forget to get a more complete list back to me,” she reminded him.

  Brady watched as the twins left with the young woman who was escorting them to their new classroom. Tyler looked back at him and waved tearfully. Nervous for the first time about leaving them, Brady waved back.

  “Don’t worry,” Mrs. Ferguson told him, noting the concerned look on his face. “I promise that they will be fine. And you should call that number,” Mrs. Ferguson reminded Brady. There was a finality in her voice that all but sent him on his way.

  “Yeah, right,” Brady murmured, watching until Toby and Tyler disappeared from his line of sight.

  Time for him to go, too, he thought. He realized he still hadn’t eaten anything, even though he’d made breakfast for the twins before taking them to school. Maybe he would stop at the Hotel Fortune for that breakfast and some really strong coffee, emphasis on the latter.

  The sooner, the better, he thought.

  The thought sustained Brady as he drove away from the preschool.

  He forgot all about the business card in his pocket.

  Chapter Three

  “Hi, Cowboy. What brings you by to my neck of the woods?”

  The question, asked in a melodious voice, had Brady abandoning his thoughts and looking up to see his cousin Nicole Fortune. The executive chef of Roja was standing beside his small table holding a pot of coffee in her hand. There was a wide, welcoming smile on her lips.

  “So, can I interest you in another cup of coffee since you seemed to have drained that one?” she asked, nodding at the empty cup sitting right in front of him.

  “You twisted my arm,” Brady told her, then asked, “Would it look bad if I just drank that coffee straight out of the pot?”

  Nicole laughed as she poured her cousin a second cup. Then, setting the pot down on the table, she slid into the booth opposite Brady. “That bad, huh?” she asked sympathetically.

  Brady took an extra-long gulp of the inky black coffee, letting it wind all through him before he put the cup down and addressed her question.

  “You have no idea,” he replied with a sigh.

  “You’re right, I probably don’t,” Nicole readily admitted. “Talk to me, cousin,” she urged. “That’s what I’m here for.”

  Brady smiled at her. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, Nicole, but don’t you have enough work to do?” He glanced around the restaurant. “I mean, it can’t be easy, running the kitchen and keeping everything flowing smoothly.”

  “You’re absolutely right, it’s not,” Nicole agreed. “But I’ve got good people working for me and right now, the morning rush is over and the afternoon insanity hasn’t started yet, so I’m free for a few minutes.” She leaned forward over the table for two, putting her hand over his, silently urging her cousin to open up to her.

  “C’mon, Brady. Two ears, no waiting. Talk,” she coaxed. When he didn’t begin to bare his soul to her, she made her best guess at what was bothering Brady. “Is the move getting you down? I know that Rambling Rose has to be a huge change from New York for you, but—”

  “Oh, it is,” Brady assured her. “But it’s actually a nice change.” He thought how accommodating all of his cousins had been from the moment he had let them know he was coming to Texas with the twins. Busy though they were, they had even taken the time to help him find a cozy three-bedroom home in a very reasonable price range. He couldn’t have asked for anything more. “I know I could definitely get used to the peace and quiet—if I could find some peace and quiet,” he qualified wistfully with another sigh.

  Nicole arched a well-shaped eyebrow, slightly confused by Brady’s comment. “You’re going to have to explain that,” she told him. “My brain is currently in slow gear.”

  “Fair enough.” He readily admitted that his previous statement might have sounded cryptic and confusing. “Let me put it another way. Six months ago my biggest decision was which bar to hit on a Saturday night. Now I’m constantly putting out small fires—” he thought of the aborted marshmallow roast the twins had once planned to hold on the living room floor back in New York “—sometimes literally.” His laugh was self-deprecating. It helped him cope. “I tell you, I have newfound respect for my parents. Those two people managed to raise eight kids—two of whom were twins—without losing their minds. Looking back now, I realize that had to be one hell of a juggling act on their part.” He shook his head. “Honestly, I’m surprised that they didn’t both drink themselves into a stupor every night.”

  Nicole smiled knowingly, having gleaned the one significant kernel out of her cousin’s rambling narrative. “So we’re talking about the twins.”

  Brady nodded vigorously. “Oh yes, we’re definitely talking about the twins,” he confirmed. “Do you know that with all her experience and all her knowledge, my mother actually threw in the towel after trying to look after Toby and Tyler? That woman raised six active kids and yet those two four-year-olds turned out to be too much for her.”

  Her cousin looked really worn out, Nicole thought. If anyone was ever sorely in need of a pep talk, it was Brady.

  “You’re overlooking one important thing, Brady,” she told him.

  “And that’s what?” he asked. “That Toby and Tyler are really space aliens?”

  “No, silly,” Nicole laughed. “When Aunt Catherine was ‘effortlessly’ raising all of you little critters, she was younger than she is now. A lot younger,” his cousin emphasized. “And age makes a huge difference, trust me.” She smiled at Brady encouragingly as she watched him consume more coffee. “Give Rambling Rose a little time to work its magic on those kids. They’ll settle down a bit before you know it. Probably not a whole lot, mind you, but enough for you to survive the exhausting process of raising them.

  “Right now, from what I hear,” Nicole continued, feeling that he needed a bit more support, “you’re holding y
our own and doing a damn fine job—especially for a ‘clueless bachelor,’” she told him with another wide, encouraging smile.

  “I do think I’ve done a damned good job,” Brady agreed with his cousin, “considering the situation and my total lack of experience.”

  Nicole’s eyes crinkled with humor. “Well, I see that your ego hasn’t been damaged any in the process.”

  Rather than laughing, a dubious look came over Brady’s face. He was taking this conversation seriously, she realized.

  “Well, by all rights it should have been,” he told Nicole.

  Her brow furrowed. “Again, you’re going to have to explain that, Brady. I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”

  His thoughts were coming into his head in daunting snippets. He really did need to get hold of himself before someone decided he actually did need a shrink.

  “I just registered the twins for preschool today,” Brady told his cousin.

  The fact that Brady was here at Roja by himself had just hit her. “I should have asked you where you managed to stash those little wild mustangs.”

  “They’re at the preschool where I registered them.” He felt he was repeating himself, but then, maybe he hadn’t been all that clear earlier. But then, he was still frustrated at Mrs. Ferguson’s less-than-veiled suggestion that he get psychiatric help.

  Incensed all over again, Brady said, “Do you know what that woman who runs the school had the gall to imply?” He didn’t wait for Nicole to ask him “What?” but went straight to the answer. “That I needed a shrink. She doesn’t even know me. Where does she get off saying that to me?”

  “Maybe from years of running the nursery school?” Nicole suggested, doing her best to keep the smile out of her voice. It wasn’t funny, but his anger made him look adorable.

  However, Brady wasn’t buying the excuse Nicole made for Mrs. Ferguson. He dismissed the very thought.

  “Well, I don’t need therapy or someone telling me that all my problems stem from episodes of traumatic toilet training.”

  “Well, maybe not all your problems...” Nicole said, an amused smile playing on her lips.

  “Very funny,” Brady said. He knew he was overreacting and told himself to calm down. “If you didn’t brew the best damn coffee I’ve ever had,” he informed his cousin, “I’d take my business elsewhere.”

  “What business?” Nicole asked her cousin drolly. “Were you planning on paying for the breakfast you just had?”

  Brady was about to answer that he hadn’t come here to mooch off a member of his family when the words froze on his tongue, immobilized there by the sight of what had to be one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She had just walked into the restaurant, clutching a single sheet of paper in her hand.

  Gorgeous though she was, the expression on her face made him think of a frightened deer that had wandered out of the forest and was desperately looking for a way back before she ran into a hunter.

  Nicole’s back was to the restaurant’s doorway, but she saw the expression on her cousin’s face. “What are you looking at, Brady?” She turned around to look in the same direction that her cousin was gazing in. Able to spot a job applicant a mile away, Nicole was instantly alert. “Uh-oh, unless I miss my guess, duty calls,” she told Brady, then explained, “I put out the word that we were hiring.

  “If you’ll excuse me for a few minutes, this shouldn’t take long,” she predicted.

  Nicole rose and made her way over to the woman, flashing a smile as she went.

  When the young woman noticed her approaching, in Nicole’s opinion she looked both relieved and apprehensive at the same time.

  Very mysterious, Nicole thought.

  Reaching the other woman, Nicole put out her hand. “Hi, I’m Nicole Fortune, executive chef of Roja,” she said by way of an introduction. “May I be of some service?”

  In response, the young woman nervously all but thrust the paper she was holding into Nicole’s outstretched hand. “Hello.” The woman said the word almost as if it was an afterthought. “Um, I heard that Roja might be looking for help and well—” she flushed a little “—I’m looking for a job.”

  Nicole looked down at the paper and realized that it was a résumé. However, it wasn’t exactly in keeping with the kind of resume she was looking for.

  While Nicole focused on the menu, she had made certain that she was familiar with all the various aspects of running a restaurant, from the kitchen staff to the waitstaff. Though hiring the latter was usually the job of the general manager, she was filling in today.

  Judging by the résumé the applicant had just given her, none of these things were even remotely familiar to the woman who was standing before her.

  Nicole raised her eyes to look at the young woman. “I don’t see any references on here to you having any cooking or experience waiting tables,” Nicole pointed out.

  “That’s because I don’t have any—but I’m a quick study,” the woman added in a hasty postscript.

  Nicole looked the woman over with a discerning eye. Though she was well-dressed, the petite woman with the long brown hair and warm chocolate-brown eyes seemed to have a slightly desperate air about her.

  This wasn’t going to work out, Nicole thought. She tried to let the hopeful applicant down gently. “While it is true that we are looking to hire a few people, the hotel, and so by extension, the restaurant, is only looking to hire locals at the moment.”

  “Oh, but I am a local,” the young woman assured Nicole quickly. Then, in the interest of honesty, she corrected herself. “That is, I’ve been living in Rambling Rose for the last three months. But that counts, doesn’t it?” she asked hopefully.

  The chef frowned a little. “I’m not sure if that actually qualifies.” In response to the disappointment she saw on the young woman’s face, Nicole had a slight change of heart. “Tell you what, I’ll talk to our hotel manager and then I’ll get back to you,” she promised. “As soon as possible.” Nicole smiled kindly, then excused herself and headed back into the kitchen.

  The lightly tanned young woman’s cheeks turned a shade of pink. She knew when she was being dismissed. Mustering what dignity she could, she murmured, “Well, thank you for your time,” as she turned away.

  From his vantage point at the table, Brady had been privy to this little minidrama and he found himself utterly intrigued by the woman applying for a job. Having just been in the same position himself recently, looking for work, he could totally sympathize with what she had to be going through, He, of course, had family to turn to and for that he was eternally grateful. Every single one of them had been warm and welcoming. Without their warm welcome and their help, settling in with the twins would have been so much more challenging.

  For some reason, he got the feeling that this woman didn’t have someone to turn to.

  What was her story, he couldn’t help wondering.

  From the way she moved, not to mention the way she was dressed, Brady had already been able to tell that she wasn’t someone who was accustomed to waitressing. There was just something about her body language, the way she carried herself, that told him she wasn’t the type who balanced plates on a tray for a living.

  So why was she here, looking to apply for a job as a waitress? Could she be down on her luck? He could feel another wave of sympathy swelling up within him.

  Half rising in the booth, Brady attempted to get the woman’s attention.

  “Excuse me,” he began, watching her face for a response. When she shifted her brown eyes to look in his direction, he saw that she looked a little leery. “I couldn’t help overhearing,” he began, then realized that might not be the best approach. He tried again. “Look, can I buy you a cup of coffee? Maybe you’d like to talk,” he suggested. He nodded at the empty seat facing his.

  She looked somewhat apprehensively at the stranger. While h
e did sound sympathetic, she knew she couldn’t just open up to him. For one thing, she didn’t know this man from Adam—and she was well-aware of how misconstrued things could be.

  The young woman gathered her shoulder bag to her. “Look, I really should be going,” she told him. With that, she began to put space between them and headed toward the exit.

  Maybe she misunderstood his offer, Brady thought. Raising his voice, he told her, “I wasn’t trying to hit on you,” before she had a chance to open the door. “I’ve got my hands filled with my kids.”

  The woman stopped then and slowly, almost reluctantly, turned around to face him.

  Brady took it as a good sign. But he remained where he was, using the sound of his voice to draw her back. “I was just looking for someone to talk to, nothing else, I promise,” he told her, raising his hands as a sign of innocence.

  There was something about the stranger’s voice that broke through the barriers that she had newly erected around herself. And, even though she told herself this could all be just a lie to draw her in, the young woman scrutinized the friendly stranger for a long moment.

  “What is it that you want to talk about?” she finally asked him.

  Brady nodded toward his table. “Then you’ll have coffee with me?”

  She pressed her lips together, debating accepting the invitation.

  “Well, I guess that I could use the coffee...” she began rather hesitantly.

  “Great,” Brady enthused. “Then I won’t feel so bad about bending your ear,” he said with a warm laugh that seemed to corkscrew right into her chest.

  Looking around the restaurant, Brady raised his hand and managed to catch the eye of the lone waitress who was on duty at the moment.

  Seeing him, the waitress came over to their table. “What can I get you?” she asked, looking from one occupant to the other.

  “Could you bring a cup of coffee for the lady?” Brady requested.

  The waitress nodded. “Sure thing,” she responded obligingly. And then she promised to “be right back,” as she quickly left to get the coffee.