he shouldn’t discuss the woman’s bad debt with her sibling.
“I’m not asking for any information.” Lydia sat forward in her seat, her expression serious. “I already know that Gail couldn’t possibly pay what she promised the charity on the night of the auction. I’m sure she will contact you when she returns from her trip. But until then, I wondered about a potential compromise.”
So much for his hope that Lydia Walker came bearing a check.
“A compromise?” Impatience flared. He wasn’t interested in a nominal payment toward the balance. “This isn’t a credit card debt where you can take out a consolidation loan and suddenly pay less than you owe.”
Lips compressed in a flat line, she straightened in her seat. “And I’m aware of that. But she can’t produce funds she doesn’t have. So I had hoped to give Gail some ideas for what she could do instead. Perhaps donate her time volunteering for the charity in some way?”
Her hazel eyes turned greener as she bristled. The color intrigued him, even as he knew he shouldn’t take any pleasure from her frustration. She’d meant well.
“I see.” He nodded, thinking over her offer. She didn’t know that the charity had already been paid, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to share his own contribution. Instead, he found himself asking, “May I ask your interest in the matter? Why not just let your sister contact us when she returns home?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Do you have any siblings, James?”
The question cut straight through him, his grief still fresh. “Not as of three months ago.”
The terse sound of the words didn’t begin to convey the ache behind them.
Lydia paled. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea—”
“You couldn’t possibly know.” Stuffing down the rawness of the loss, James stood suddenly, needing to move. He headed toward the minifridge and retrieved two small bottles of water, more for something to do than anything else. Still, he brought one back to Lydia and then cracked open his own. “My brother and his wife died in a car crash this fall. Parker lived on the other side of the state, but we were still close.”
He had no living relatives now except for his nephew. His own mother had died of breast cancer when he was very young, and his father had passed after a heart attack two years ago. The Grim Reaper had been kicking him in the teeth lately, taking those he loved.
Except for Teddy. And James would move heaven and earth to keep that little hellion happy and safe. Even if it meant giving up the boy to his maternal grandparents—an option he was investigating since his schedule didn’t allow the time the boy needed.
“I can’t imagine how difficult that has been.” The concern in her voice, the empathy, was unmistakable. “Most of my brothers and sisters are still back home in Arkansas, but I check in with them often. Gail moved here with me to—start over. I can’t help but feel somewhat responsible for her.”
He wondered why. Lured by curiosity about this beautiful woman, he almost sat back down beside her to continue their conversation. But a noise outside the office—the cadence of urgent voices speaking in low tones—distracted him from replying. He glanced toward the door that opened onto the clubhouse and saw the building’s administrative assistant speaking with one of the women who worked in the child care facility.
A feeling of foreboding grew. He knew it couldn’t be the boy’s tree nut allergy acting up or they would have notified him. But what if Teddy had overstayed his welcome in the child care facility? James hadn’t been able to keep a nanny for more than two weeks with his nephew’s swings from shy and withdrawn to uncontrollable bouts of temper. James had no plan B if the TCC child care couldn’t take the toddler for at least part of the time. The boy’s only grandparents lived five hours away—too far for babysitting help.
“Lydia, you needn’t worry about the donation,” he told his guest, the stress at the base of his spine ratcheting higher up his back. As compelling as he found his unexpected guest, he needed to end this meeting so he could see what was going on with the boy. “I’ve already taken care of the matter with the charity, and I’ll speak to your sister about it when she returns to Royal.”
He remained standing, hoping his response would satisfy Lydia and send her on her way. Bad enough he’d felt an immediate attraction to the woman. But he was too strapped emotionally and mentally this week to figure out a creative solution to help her sister work off a debt that James had already paid.
“Taken care of?” Lydia sounded wary. “What does that mean?”
Tension throbbed in his temples. He would have never guessed that concerns about one tiny kid could consume a person day and night. But that’s exactly where he found himself right now, worrying about the boy around the clock, certain that his lack of consistent care was going to screw up the child Parker had been so proud of.
“I paid off the bid myself,” James clarified while he watched the child care worker edge around the administrative assistant and bustle toward his office door.
Damn it.
“You can’t go in there,” the front desk secretary called after her, while James waited, tension vibrating through him.
From behind him, Lydia Walker’s gasp was followed by the whispered words, “One hundred thousand dollars?”
Damn it again.
Pivoting toward Lydia, he already regretted his haste. But he needed to concentrate on whatever new crisis was developing.
“That information is confidential, and stays between the two of us. I only shared it so you won’t worry about the bid anymore.”
Standing, Lydia gaped at him. She shook her head, the warm streaks in her brown hair glinting in the sunlight streaming through the windows behind her. “I’ll worry twice as much now. How can we ever hope to repay you?”
He didn’t have time to answer before a childish cry filled the room.
His nephew, little Teddy Harris, came barreling toward him with big crocodile tears running down both cheeks, his wispy baby curls bouncing with each jarring step. The two women stepped out of the boy’s way as he ran straight into James’s leg. Crushing the wool gabardine in damp baby hands, the boy let out a wail that all of Royal must have heard.
With proof of his inadequacy as a stand-in parent clinging to his calf, James had never felt so powerless. Reaching down, he lifted his nephew in his arms to offer whatever comfort he could, knowing it wasn’t going to be enough. The toddler thrashed in his arms, his back arching, kicking with sock-clad feet.
James had all he could do to hang on to the squirming kid let alone soothe him.
Until, miraculously, the child stilled. The two women lingering at the threshold of his office door were both smiling as they watched. James had to crane his neck to see the boy’s expression since Teddy peered at something over his shoulder, tantrum forgotten.
For a split second, he wondered what on earth that could be. Until he remembered the enticing woman in the room with them.
He sensed her presence behind him in a hint of feminine fragrance and a soft footfall on the hardwood floor. It was James’s only warning, before her voice whispered, “peekaboo!”
