Cheryl Wolverton - A Father's Love

“Of course not,” Max said curtly, then apologized. “I’m sorry for snapping. But you could have given me a warning you were coming.”

“What would you have said if I’d called and told you it was me the agency hired?”

He scowled.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Surely you don’t want to work for me, do you?”

Kaitland’s smile turned wistful. I’d like a lot more, she thought. “What do you think?”

Inside the cozy room he went straight to the phone and dialed the agency.

“Max, wait,” she pleaded.

His gaze turned tortured for only an instant before hardening. “Yes, this is Max Stevens,” he said to the person on the other end of the phone. “When I called this morning, I asked for an older woman, Christian, fifty or so, the grandmotherly type.” He paused. “I see.” There was another pause. “There’s no one else?” Casting a harassed look at Kaitland, he replied, “Thank you.”

Kaitland stared at Max, waiting for the ax to fall. When he didn’t speak, she took hope and pleaded her case. “It’s not going to be that bad, Max. The kids won’t be any trouble. And as you’ve said, you don’t know the first thing about them. Besides, I’m an emergency foster parent. I’m used to dealing with kids in stressful situations.”

“What happened to your job at the day-care center?”

“You know about that?” She had been his secretary years ago, before the incident, but hadn’t realized he knew anything about her life after they’d broken up.

He shrugged. “Jake talks about his church.”

“I still work there. I’m on a leave of absence.”

“What happened? Why?”

It was her turn to shrug. “I had an accident with a belligerent parent My pastor thought it best to keep me out of the spotlight Especially if my cheek bruises.”

Max’s gaze sharpened and he came forward. “You were hit?” he demanded, taking her face in his hands and tilting it toward the east window.

His hands felt good. His touch awoke old memories in her, memories of when he’d held her tenderly within his embrace and kissed her good-night, leaving her with his own reluctance to part for even so short a time. Longing, deep and painful, filled her chest. His scent was still the same, spicy, musky. Oh, Father, how can I stand this? she silently asked.

Max’s thumb ran over the slight swelling that her hair almost concealed. His breath fanned her face as his thumb stroked back and forth. Suddenly, realizing what he was doing, he released her and stepped back.

“I wasn’t hit,” she replied, just a little husky, despite her accelerated heart rate. “A table fell on me when the man and I tripped.”

He said nothing for a moment, then, “I don’t see how this can work, Katie. There’s just too much past between us.”

Panicked, she decided to play her trump card. Max was a good man despite his unwillingness to forgive her so many years ago and his determination in suspecting her of lying. She didn’t want to tell him this, but seeing him now, she realized there was something still between them, something that had to be settled one way or another. And if he wasn’t willing to make the effort, she suddenly was.

“I need the job, Max. If I can’t get a new one within the month…” she paused. Should she tell Max she’d lose her house? No, she decided, it seemed too much like begging. She had some pride, after all. “I’ll have some serious problems,” she concluded.

Max whipped around to stare at her. “But why? Your stepbrother—”

“Refuses to help me,” she replied before he could remind her how rich her stepbrother was.

That was a sore point she’d not quite gotten over in reference to her grandmother’s health. Her grandmother had disowned Robert just before she fell ill with cancer. Kaitland was never sure why. Her grandmother never told her the cause of it. Somehow her grandmother had her will changed without Kaitland knowing it. When it was read, Kaitland was stunned to find out the house and almost all of the money that was left belonged to her. What little money there was ran out before the hospital bills and funeral were paid for.

“If you need money—” Max said, interrupting her thoughts.

“Don’t even say it,” Kaitland warned, her eyes narrowing. “After what has gone on between us, it would be wrong if you offered me anything.”

“But you’ll work for me.”

Kaitland flushed just a little. “Yes.”

She knew it didn’t make sense to Max. They had almost married, which should have made her more amenable to accepting a loan, but for her it was just the opposite. No, it would be easier to work for him and not feel indebted.

“You aren’t making this easy for me, Katie,” he finally said, running a weary hand through his hair.

“I hope not,” she replied brightly, despite the tension.

He shot her an exasperated look. “Fine. You have the job. But, before you celebrate, I want to lay down some ground rules. The past is the past. We leave it there. This is strictly an employer-employee relationship. Your job is to take care of the children, see they are cared for and want for nothing. You only need to tell me what to get and it’ll be done. Is that under-stood?”

“Yes, Max.”

“Well, good.”

She hid her smile. Max looked as if he thought he’d lost the battle but couldn’t figure out why. She knew why. Just by being in the same house, the past was going to creep up until it was dealt with and taken care of.

“First we’ll need cribs for the children. With that they’ll need sheets and bumper pads and a couple of light blankets. What about some clothes? Do you want me to run over to the church and check their clothes closet—”

“I can certainly buy anything the children need,” Max replied, affronted.

Kaitland paused, then asked the question that had been burning in her since she’d first arrived. She’d known the kids weren’t Max’s. He lived by the moral code of his faith. She took his word, too, for Max also didn’t lie. “Why do you insist on seeing to this problem? You could call Child Services and the children would be taken away and you’d never have to be responsible for them again.”

“But I am responsible.”

Her eyes widened in shock, thinking she had misjudged him.

“Not that way,” he replied, clearly exasperated. He dropped wearily onto the couch. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes. “Someone left them on my patio with a note addressed to me. I don’t know if the person was a crackpot or someone who really thought I could help the children. But whoever it was put their trust and faith in me. I won’t palm that off on some overworked agency that would probably separate the children out of necessity.”

Kaitland nodded. That would probably happen. Though Child Services didn’t like to do that, they had to find somewhere for the children.

“I have plenty of money,” he said. “Enough to last two lifetimes. And this house is big enough to hold forty or fifty people. So there’s plenty of room. It won’t hurt to keep them here.”

She smiled, gently, doing her best to hide the misting of her eyes. “You’re a good person, Max Stevens.”

“No, just practical,” he argued gruffly, refusing praise as he always did. “I’m going to call one of the investigative people we use in our business. I’ll put him on the case and see if he can find out what happened to the mother. After all, how hard is it going to be to track down a set of twins that were born about…fifteen months?” At her nod, he continued, “About fifteen months ago.”

“I honestly don’t know. I imagine easier than tracking down a single child.”