Bonnie K. Winn - Family Ties

“I thought maybe that was why you moved here.”

Suddenly breathless, she made a production of looking for the sugar. “Excuse me?”

“I couldn’t see any other reason for a young woman to move to the boonies. I thought it must be love.”

“Love?” she asked, her voice sounding strangulated.

“I am prying. Sorry.”

She fussed with the coffee cups, then added a plate of cookies to the tray before finally bringing it to the table. “No need to apologize.”

“Still, it’s a great house.”

Cindy smiled. “Anything newer or smaller cost a fortune. Not many people want to fix up these old painted ladies. This one needed a lot of gutting and repair. Not to mention horrendous utility bills that are eating into my trust fund.”

“You wouldn’t trade it for a new one,” he mused accurately, surprised to realize how much she seemed to fit with the charming old house.

“Nope. It’s drafty, always in need of fixing—and I love it.”

He accepted the coffee she offered, studying the rose pattern of the fine bone china cup and saucer. “No generic mugs for you.”

Her gaze followed his. “It’s one of my weaknesses—collecting china. But I only have one complete set. I collect orphaned cups and saucers—I must have twenty of them, each a different pattern.”

Flynn glanced at the other collectibles that lined her glass-fronted cabinets. “You like old things—antiques, I mean.”

“They have history. I like to imagine the people who once owned them.” She stared upward at the tall ceiling of the kitchen, then the original arched wooden-paned windows that brought the sunshine inside. “I couldn’t imagine living in a house that’s squeaky new, that hasn’t had time to develop character.”

“Like the one you convinced me to build,” he commented wryly.

She flushed suddenly, not a gentle blush, but a violent wave of color, a shortcoming that seemed to be a side effect of being a redhead. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean—”

But he dismissed her protest. “I know what you meant. And you’re right. This house suits you. I’m just not sure yet what suits me.” He’d known once, but everything about his life was uncertain now. Especially this move, the one that had him sitting next to her.

Compassion filled Cindy’s eyes. “You’ll know again, Flynn. It may not seem like it now, but you’ll find your way.”

“You sound remarkably certain.”

“It’s my faith,” she explained gently. “It makes me sure there’s a path for me. I might stumble now and then, but at the end of the day it’s always there.”

He nodded out of politeness, his own abandoned faith scarcely a bitter recollection.

Still, in comfortable silence they sipped the strong coffee and nibbled on buttery shortbread cookies.

Flynn cocked his ear, listening for the sounds of his daughters.

“I have a baby monitor,” Cindy remembered suddenly. “I’ll hook it up after dinner. In fact, it has enough units for all the bedrooms upstairs and one here in the kitchen.”

Quizzical, Flynn studied her face. “Why do you have a baby monitor?”

“As I said, I bring home kids now and then from my volunteer work. With a big old house like this, the monitor saves a lot of steps. One of the first little ones I brought home with me kept escaping from his crib. That’s when I discovered baby monitors. Of course, with that little curtain climber, I could have used an alarm system.”

An unexpected smile crossed Flynn’s face. “That bad?”

“Unequivocally. And, of course, to make matters worse, he was an absolute charmer, so I could never stay mad more than a few seconds.”

“That would be rough,” Flynn remarked.

“Especially when it was time for him to go home. The house was deadly dull and I didn’t get nearly enough exercise.”

A thud from upstairs echoed through the floorboards. “I have a feeling you won’t be lacking in exercise now.” He stood. “I’ll go check on them.”

Cindy watched him leave, feeling her heartbeat settle to a near-normal rate. At this pace, she’d be a wreck in less than a day. Watching everything she said, trying not to read something into his words…. Briefly she closed her eyes, masking the questions. But not the big one. Had she made a terrible mistake in agreeing to let Flynn stay in her home? Would he somehow discern her hidden feelings? And could her heart stand this constant assault?

Again she heard a few thuds overheard, then the clatter of many small feet on the wooden stairs. Rounding up the troops, she realized.

In moments, the girls scampered into the kitchen and many of her apprehensions faded. How could she not give everything in her power to them? They were Julia’s legacy, the only tangible link she had left. Little Mandy clutched Cindy’s leg and the last of her reservations melted even more. Whatever it took, she would help these girls. No matter what it cost her own heart.

The following day, Flynn used a few rocks to anchor the blueprints on a portable camp table. Rudimentary but effective. The breeze was light, yet it ruffled the rolled paper just enough to keep it out of alignment.

Cindy glanced at the papers, then at the lot Flynn had purchased. “Are you happy with them? The architect drew up the plans awfully fast.”

His gaze remained on the lot, but he didn’t look especially pleased. Instead it was a contemplative expression. “Rand Miller’s a friend. And he put together the complex for my insurance company.”

“Does he design homes, too?”

“Usually bigger ones than I’m planning, but yes. He’s doing this one as a favor to me.”

“Has he seen the lot?” Cindy asked, her eyes on the triplets who seemed determined to pull up all the wild buttercups scattered across the field grass.

“We took a ride out here before he drew up the plans. Luckily, Linda showed me this lot first—so it didn’t take any time to decide.”

“The view’s good,” Cindy mused, appraising the gently knolled lot. “Are you planning to put the house at the top of the little hill?”

Flynn nodded. “That’ll make the best use of the plans. I want a lot of windows—so many, it looks as though the walls are made of glass. Which works out well since I’m going to have a solar energy system.”

Cindy pointed to the drawing of the roof. “This looks kind of unusual.”

“Good eye,” Flynn replied. “That’s a cooling pool. With all the brush out here in the fields, there’s a higher fire risk. The pool will keep the roof from catching a stray spark.”

“Hmm.”

Enjoying her polite but puzzled expression, Flynn laughed. “You don’t sound convinced. It’s not only for safety. We can swim in the pool, as well.”

“Ah…” Politeness gave way to pleasure, softening her face in an unexpectedly attractive way.

Not that she wasn’t already pretty…. Flynn felt his thoughts jerk in surprise. He’d always known what an attractive woman she was, but that had never mattered in the past. Not when Julia was alive. And because he and Cindy were all wrong for each other, it could never matter in the future.

“You’ll be glad of that in the summer,” Cindy was saying, her smile nearly as bright as her blazing hair.

“What’s that?” he replied, distracted by the wash of unpleasant memories.

She drew her brows together as she glanced at him in quizzical surprise. “That you can swim in the pool.”

“Oh…Yes.”

But Cindy didn’t seem to think his mental detour was significant. “The kids should love it.”

His expression mellowed. “I want to build swing sets and a playhouse, too, make the house a place they want to be.”

Cindy’s smile was at once tender yet nostalgic. “You’re a good father, Flynn.”