carefully controlled. “Before I punch you out. It’s never good form to beat up one’s father.”
He walked out without looking back. The secretary kept her gaze pinned to the papers on her desk as he swept past.
Cade was careful around her. He and his siblings had figured out long ago that anything they said to her would be repeated to their father.
In the hall, he nearly ran over Linda Mailer, his father’s accountant. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“It was my fault,” she said. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She gestured at the sheaf of papers in her hand. “Do you have a moment? I have some questions—”
“Later,” Cade said and forced a smile. “I have to be somewhere.”
Anywhere but in the vicinity of his father, Cade thought, going outside and breathing deeply.
The day was clear and warm, an invitation to be outside in the summer sun. Perusing the display of jewelry in the store window, he experienced an overpowering need to get away from everything that bore his father’s touch. The ranch was just the place for that.
“It’s no problem,” Sara assured Tai Monday afternoon. She’d agreed to take Stacy home and let the child stay with her until Cade arrived.
“Thanks, Sara. That’s a load off my mind,” Tai said, relief mingling with the worry in her eyes.
The young woman’s mother had undergone emergency surgery during the night for a ruptured appendix. Tai, an only child, needed to take care of her for a few days until the older woman was on her feet again.
“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll explain what happened to Cade.” Sara walked the premed student to the classroom door and waved as Tai hurried from the school grounds.
It was lunch recess and the babble of conversation and laughter on the playground was reassuring to Sara. As long as there were children and laughter, then the world couldn’t be all bad.
But it could be harsh.
She thought of Tai’s concern for her mom, of the past winter and her own mother’s slow fading, those thin hands growing paler and colder each day as Marla’s heart failed in its effort to supply the vital link to life.
With the death of her mother, Sara had felt adrift in life, cut off from her roots and all the past generations that made her the person she was. The future had seemed dark and fuzzy, an endless road leading to a place she couldn’t see. Sensing Tai’s fear had revived her own.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period. The children ran about in seeming disorder, but soon sorted themselves into lines in front of their classrooms, then marched in with their teachers.
Sara put the past out of her mind and finished her teaching duties. She ended the day by having the children dance around the classroom in time to a lively tune, then she and the twenty students straightened up the room in preparation for the next day.
“Stacy, you’ll walk home with me,” she told the youngster when the final bell rang. “Tai’s mom got sick and Tai will have to stay with her for a couple of weeks.”
Stacy smiled happily. “I like being with you. And Tai,” she added, loyal to her sitter.
“You’re a very likable person to be with, too,” Sara said. “Shall we plan dinner for your father tonight since Tai won’t be there to start it?”
“Let’s have spaghetti. That’s his favorite food.”
Sara gave a little skeptical snort. “I think I know whose favorite it is,” she said as Stacy skipped along beside her.
Stacy pressed a hand over her mouth and giggled.
At the town house, they worked together and soon the spicy sauce was bubbling in the pan. While it simmered, the two weeded the front flower beds, not that they needed much work. The mysterious Mr. Lee—Sara had never seen him—kept the grounds in tip-top shape.
That’s where Cade found them when he arrived at six o’clock.
After the usual hug, swing and nose-rubbing with his daughter, he turned to Sara. His stare was so intent, she became flustered and dropped the small bunch of grass sprouts they’d pulled from among the flowers.
“We cooked dinner,” Stacy told him.
“Where’s Tai?” he asked Sara.
“Her mommy’s sick,” Stacy answered. “Tai has to stay with her ’cause she had a op’ration.”
“An operation,” he corrected.
“Mommy wanted Daddy to have one, but he got mad,” Stacy said to Sara. The child gazed earnestly at her father. “Sara and I could stay with you if you had one,” she volunteered.
Before Sara could quite figure out the implications, Cade abruptly set the girl on her feet, unlocked the door and disappeared inside with her. His face had turned an interesting shade of red.
Sara felt her own face heat up as she sorted through the conversation. While working together last week, Rachel had told Sara all she’d read about Cade’s wife. The woman had been an ardent partygoer. It didn’t take a strong leap to imagine her not wanting more children…or that she’d wanted Cade to do something about it.
Had he?
Going inside, she prepared the pasta and salad and rolls, then studied the ebony table with its perfect finish. She’d never used it.
Getting a colorful tablecloth from her belongings, she went onto the deck and spread it over the patio table there. With the table set and the food ready to bring out, she wondered what to do next.
Feeling embarrassed and more than a little foolish, she knocked on Cade’s back door.
He answered in less than a minute. He’d changed to jeans and a blue chambray shirt, the sleeves rolled up and the buttons not yet fastened down the front.
His chest was lightly sprinkled with dark hair. His skin was tanned. She wondered when he spent time outside to acquire it. He wasn’t a brawny man, but he looked strong and fit, with a whipcord leanness to him that spoke of latent energy, ready to be unleashed on a second’s notice.
Unexpected hunger uncoiled and flooded her with intense longing. She hadn’t felt passion in so long it took a moment to realize fully what it was.
She wanted this man. She wanted his arms around her. She wanted to feel his warmth, his intimate touch. She wanted to caress him, to explore his masculine flesh with her hands…with her body…
“Yes?” he said.
Sara hesitated at his tone—not exactly cold, but not exactly friendly, either. “Uh, did Stacy tell you we prepared dinner?”
“Yes. I was just about to call and see if the invitation was still open.”
“Of course.” She dredged up a smile. “I don’t want to eat leftover spaghetti for the next six nights.”
His
