own was wonder enough. But when you considered that they were children who were here for a short duration only, the bond she managed to create was amazing.
He wondered how she had achieved such a rapport with them even as a tinge of jealousy wove through his mind. He wanted, no, he dreamed, of having such a relationship with his own children.
Just then the real-life Norman Rockwell portrait happened right before his eyes. A little boy, no more than five, tucked his hand into Cassie’s and proceeded to tug her behind him to the lush green grass beyond the garden. On one end, it was covered with a pile of red and gold leaves in various stages of drying. As Jeff watched, they took turns tossing handfuls of the vibrantly colored foliage over each other, giggling merrily as the leaves stuck to their hair and their clothes. The picture stayed in his mind, clear and bright long after the game ended.
A whole new plan began to form in his mind.
One that involved the son he had longed for.
One that involved the petite dark-haired woman, industriously swiping at the mustard stain on the mouth of one of her charges.
One that involved Judith’s extensive estate and the money she’d wanted him to have.
Jefferson William Haddon III sipped his hot chocolate and thought about that idea.
A lot.
Yes, he decided at last. It might just be workable. As long as he kept his mind focused on the long term plan: A business that stretched around the globe and a son to leave it to.
“Oh, Lord,” she prayed, “why me and why now?” Cassie wasn’t nearly as nonchalant about the sudden appearance of Jeff Haddon as she would have liked him to believe. In fact, the sight of those broad muscular shoulders and lean, tapered legs had quickened her heart rate substantially in the lawyer’s office. And again when he appeared in the garden. But he need not know that.
Neither did he need to know the way her heart sped up when she looked into those rich chocolate eyes. Maybe it was because he sometimes looked like a lost little boy himself.
She laughed at the thought. Boy, indeed.
Don’t be a fool, she scolded herself. Jefferson Haddon certainly doesn’t require your mothering skills.
So she continued her ministrations with the children, hoping they would enjoy the wonderful fall weather while it lasted. And if ever there was a place for them to run and yell, free of the constant strictures of their everyday life, it was on the grounds of Judith McNaughton’s estate. The place was like a bit of heaven God had sent specially for their use. It seemed that now He was changing the rules.
When the afternoon sun lost its warmth, she scooted them all inside.
“Come on, guys, let’s go in and watch that new video Mrs. Bennet rented.” They trooped into the TV room with barely a complaint and settled down while she took the opportunity to relax for a moment in the sunroom.
Cassie glanced out the window longingly, thinking wistfully of what she would lose when she moved out in two months. Not that she wanted to; the place was made for hoards of children and Judith had been the best surrogate grandmother Cassie could have ever asked for.
She remembered the day she had filled out the first forms to become a foster mother. It seemed like yesterday and yet there had been a variety of children since then. And nothing had ever been as wonderful as Judith’s invitation to stay at Oak Bluff. That will had come as a surprise. Fondly, Cassie recalled the old lady’s words about the children.
“They need stability and order, my dear,” she had said. “And I think you are the one to give it to them.”
Cassie’s lips tightened as she remembered Judith’s comments on her nephew.
“He’s a stubborn one, is Jefferson, but underneath he’s a good lad. Honest and kind. Maybe a bit reserved.”
Judith had been fond of rambling on about her family and Cassie hadn’t paid as much attention as she should have.
Obviously.
She was still amazed that the ‘boy’ Judith had talked about was over thirty years old, tall, dark and handsome and from one of the city’s oldest families.
That he was here now seemed unbelievable. After all, he had not made an effort to see the old woman during the last few months of her life.
“It’s a wonderful old house, isn’t it?”
Cassie whirled around to find the object of her thoughts standing languidly behind her. His deep voice sounded friendly, without the arrogant tones she had heard at the lawyer’s. She decided to give him the benefit of her many doubts and listened as he continued speaking.
“I used to come here quite a lot as a child. Aunt Judith had a way of making me feel better at Oak Bluff when things at home weren’t going very well.”
She cocked her dark curly head to one side, appraising him with quizzical jade eyes.
“You haven’t been around for quite a while,” she accused. “I’ve been living here for six months and in all that time Judith never saw you once.”
Jeff shook his dark head. “No, she didn’t.”
He refused to justify himself to her, Cassie noted. He might as well have told her to mind her own business. Still, she had needed to ask.
“Where will you live when they sell the house?” she asked curiously. The way he kept watching her made Cassie nervous.
“The same place I’ve been living for years,” he commented sarcastically. Jeff’s dark eyes stared down at her unperturbed.
Cassie bristled at the condescending note that filled his low voice. Her temper was one of the things she constantly tried to rein in, but inevitably she forgot all about control and let loose when she should have kept cool. This was one of those times.
“Look, Mr. Haddon,” the emphasis was unmistakable. “Perhaps I don’t have the obvious resources you have and your aunt had, but I am not some subhuman hussy trying to swindle you. I am interested in what happens to this house because it involves my family and my employment. When I move, I will lose these children because I don’t have the housing resources to meet government standards. Pardon me if I seem concerned!”
She would have angrily spun out of the room, but Jefferson Haddon grasped her arm and forcibly tugged her back When she looked up, his rugged face was stretched in a self-mocking grin. His long fingers plucked the ragged denim away from his lean form.
“I’m sorry,” he proffered humbly. “I’m dressed like a bum and now I’m acting like one. Can we at least try to be friends?” When she didn’t answer, he pressed her hand. “For Aunt Judith’s sake? I’m sure she thought a lot of you to ask you to live here.”
Cassie eyed him suspiciously through her narrowed eyes. Regardless of what attire Jefferson Haddon III donned, she doubted if anyone
