A Mother for Cindy Page 4

  “Mr. Blackburn, do you think Boswell will be coming back?” Nate asked again after wiping the napkin across his mouth. Her son took a smaller bite of his hamburger this time.

  “He rarely passes up a meal he doesn’t have to cook.”

  “Boswell cooks?” Nate screwed his face into an expression of disbelief. “Gramps wouldn’t be caught dead in the kitchen.”

  “He does more than cook. He takes care of Cindy and me.”

  A frown creased Nate’s forehead. “He’s a maid?”

  Nick leaned forward. “I wouldn’t say that too loud. He doesn’t like to be referred to as a maid.”

  “But that’s what he is,” Gramps cut in between bites of his baked beans.

  This time Jesse did nudge her grandfather in the side.

  He grunted. “Well, child, if he cleans up the house, he’s doing the work of a maid. If he ain’t proud of his job, then he shouldn’t do it.”

  “I’m very proud of my vocation,” Boswell said from the steps that led up onto the deck.

  Gramps shot him a suspicious glance. “I wouldn’t be hanging around down there too long. No telling when Fred will—”

  “Gramps! You know Fred isn’t that bad. Don’t scare Cindy.”

  Her grandfather mumbled something under his breath and resumed eating.

  “I’m not scared,” Cindy announced to the silent table of people.

  Boswell sat next to Susan Reed and smiled at her as he placed his napkin in his lap. “I must say the aroma coming from here would entice anyone to crash this party.”

  “I love your British accent. How long have you been in this country?” Susan asked, her whole face lit with a smile.

  Gramps muttered something else, just low enough that no one else could hear. Jesse was thinking about stomping on his foot to keep him quiet, but decided nothing would keep her grandfather quiet if he chose otherwise.

  “Twenty years.”

  “Then you’re practically an American.”

  Boswell looked shocked at even the thought of not being considered English. He tightened his mouth while his hand clutched his fork, his knuckles white.

  “This is the best—” her grandfather paused, groping for the right words to say with children listening “—country in the world,” he interjected in the conversation between Boswell and Susan.

  Boswell’s face turned beet-red. His knuckles whitened even more around the fork still clenched in his hand.

  Jesse knew the Revolutionary War was about to be fought again on her deck. She shot to her feet, her napkin floating to the bench. “Gramps, will you help me with the dessert?”

  “I’m not through yet. Besides, what can be so hard about carrying a tray of cookies?”

  “I—” She couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “I’ll help you.” Nick stood, walked by Boswell and leaned down to whisper something in the man’s ear.

  Jesse followed Nick into the kitchen. “I don’t know if it’s wise to leave my grandfather and Boswell out there together. When Gramps gets going—” She let the implied threat trail off into silence.

  Nick’s chuckle was low. “I believe Boswell can hold his own. I reminded him that Cindy and Nate were listening.”

  “I wish that would work with my grandfather. He told me when he turned seventy a few years back that he had earned the privilege of speaking his mind whenever he wanted. I’ve gotten him to tone down his language, but even that was a battle. I love my grandfather, but he isn’t always the best male example for my son.” She peered out the window at the group left on the deck. “Well, I guess what you said worked. The two men are still seated and I don’t hear any shouting.”

  “That’s a good sign.”

  “I really don’t need your help. I was just trying to get Gramps away from the table.”

  “Really?” One of his dark eyebrows quirked.

  “And as usual, it didn’t work.” Jesse walked to the refrigerator to retrieve the gallon of homemade peach ice cream she and Nate had made earlier that day. “If you want, you can get the bowls from the cabinet and some spoons from that drawer.” She gestured toward the one next to the dishwasher.

  She slid a glance toward him as he opened the cabinet. They were alone. This was her chance to see about the kitten for Cindy and set her plan in motion for him to meet Felicia. She noticed the sure way he executed his task as though he was very familiar with her kitchen. This man seemed at home anywhere—even when Fred was attacking him yesterday morning. His well-built body—whoa! That wasn’t what she was supposed to be doing, ogling her guest, a guest she was planning to fix up with Felicia.

  Jesse tore her gaze away from him and asked, “Have you made up your mind about the kitten for Cindy?” There she was back on track with her plan—Felicia and Nick.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “I don’t think I have much choice.” Nick placed the bowls and spoons on the counter.

  “You always have a choice. I’ve got a feeling you’re never backed into a corner that you don’t want to be in.” Jesse cradled the ice-cream container against her chest while retrieving the tray of chocolate chip cookies. The cold felt good against her. It seemed to be unusually hot in the kitchen.

  “True, especially in business. But this is personal and it involves my daughter. She wants a pet bad. I suppose a kitten is better than a dog, snake or gerbil, and Boswell agreed with me.”

  “Then you’ll get Cindy a kitten?”

  “Yes. You said you knew where I could get one.”

  She nodded. “We can go tomorrow afternoon. I’ll call Felicia and arrange it.”

  Nick opened the back door and let Jesse go first. “Don’t say anything yet to Cindy. I want it to be a surprise. I don’t think she would get a wink of sleep if she knew she was going to pick out a kitten tomorrow.”

  “My lips are sealed.” Jesse pressed them together to emphasize her point, but it was hard for her to contain her happiness. Her plan was back on track. Tomorrow he would meet Felicia and be impressed with her knack for organization. Her home was spotless.

  * * *

  Okay, so maybe Felicia was just a little bit too organized and obsessed with having a clean house, Jesse thought. The sound of the sofa cover crunching beneath her when she sat on Felicia’s couch punctuated the silence with that declaration. The plastic stuck to the backs of Jesse’s legs and made her conscious of her every move.

  The simple act of crossing her ankles and smoothing her shorts down drew Nick’s attention. One corner of his mouth lifted. For a few seconds his gaze ensnared hers, and she felt as though they were the only two people in the room. His way of drawing a person’s focus to him must be a valuable tool in the business world. In her world, it was disconcerting, Jesse decided.

  “I’m so tickled you want to give one of my babies a home.” Felicia straightened a stack of magazines on the coffee table. The top one sat at a slight angle from the others. Definitely out of place. “I won’t give my babies away to just anyone. Thankfully Jesse can vouch for you.”

  Somehow Felicia managed to cross her legs, the silence from her action indicating a certain degree of grace that Jesse obviously didn’t possess or the fact this woman had had a lot of practice sitting on her plastic covers. Jesse wanted to believe it was the latter.

  “Have you ever had a pet before?” Felicia asked, cutting into Jesse’s musing.

  “No, but I’m sure we’ll be able to manage,” he answered with all the confidence of a man who was used to running a large company.

  “You have to do more than just manage. You have to love your pet.” One of Felicia’s cats curled herself around the woman’s leg, purring. She picked up her pet and buried her face in its fur.

  “I can do that,” Cindy chimed in, bouncing several times in her enthusiasm.

  The sound reverberating through the room drew Felicia’s look. The “look” would have made anyone freeze, Jesse thought, and she began to reassess her friend’s candidacy for Cindy’s mothe
r. Glancing about, Jesse wondered if Felicia spent every wakened moment cleaning her house. The thought sent a shiver through Jesse. She hated cleaning her house and avoided it whenever possible.

  Maybe she was being too harsh in her judgment of Felicia. After all, the woman loved cats and anyone who was an animal lover must have room in her heart for children. Jesse stood. “Why don’t Cindy and I go pick out a kitten while you and Nick work out the details?” Jesse took the little girl’s hand and quickly left the living room. Nick and Felicia needed time alone to get to know each other.

  The four kittens were out in the sunroom. One was sleeping on the white ceramic tiled floor, two were prowling and the last one was playing with a piece of gold ribbon. The black kitten with a white mark on its forehead batted the ribbon, chasing it around. Cindy laughed and went over to it. It stopped to check the little girl’s lacy socks, licking her leg. She laughed again and picked up the kitten. Jesse noticed the cat was a male.

  “I want this one. What do you think?” Cindy cuddled him to her face. “Oh, she’s so cute.”

  “It’s a male.”

  “How can you tell?”

  Jesse wasn’t prepared to go into the facts of life with Cindy. For a second, nothing came to mind. “He’s made differently,” she blurted out, sweat beading on her upper lip.

  “Oh.” Cindy seemed to accept that lame reason, hugging the kitten to her. “Let’s go show Daddy.”

  So much for giving Nick and Felicia time to get to know each other. Jesse searched her mind for a delay tactic. “Don’t you want to check out the other kittens to make sure he’s the one?”

  Cindy shook her head. “I know.”

  Jesse stood for another minute in the middle of the sunroom, before saying, “Then I guess we should show your dad.” Hopefully five minutes was long enough for them to strike up a…friendship. Suddenly the idea of a relationship between Nick and Felicia didn’t seem right and that thought bothered Jesse.

  When she and Cindy entered the living room, silence hung in the air, Nick’s expression neutral. Felicia looked as though she were sitting in a dentist’s chair waiting for the drill. Jesse plastered a smile on her face, intending to get the conversation going.

  Nick shot to his feet. “We’ll take good care of the kitten. Are you sure you don’t want any money, Miss Winters?”

  Miss Winters? Not a good sign.

  Felicia straightened, bristling at his suggestion. “No. A good home is all I request, as I told you a few minutes ago, Mr. Blackburn.”

  Mr. Blackburn? Definitely not a good sign.

  “I’ll take real good care of Oreo,” Cindy said, nuzzling the kitten.

  At the door Nick stooped to slip on his shoes while Jesse put hers on then held Oreo so Cindy could buckle her sandals. When Felicia had asked them to take off their shoes before coming into her house, Jesse should have realized the meeting would go downhill from that moment. Nick had started to say something but snapped his jaws closed. That hadn’t stopped Cindy from blurting out the question they had all wanted to know, “Why?”

  “Goodness me. You might get some dirt on my carpet,” Felicia had answered.

  Well, one good thing came of this visit, Jesse decided as the door closed behind them. Cindy had her kitten. That had to be worth something.

  “An interesting woman,” Nick commented as they walked to Jesse’s car. “I’m surprised she has cats in her house. Won’t they track in dirt?”

  “Her cats never go out.”

  “I see.”

  Jesse doubted it. She really needed to try one more time. “Felicia’s very nice and good with animals…well, cats at least.”

  “I’m sure she is.”

  “She’s the town librarian. Every Saturday she has a story hour for the children. She’s quite good at reading to them. Nate loves to go. Maybe Cindy could go with him next Saturday.”

  “I’ll see,” he said as though he wasn’t certain he wanted his daughter within a hundred yards of the neat freak whose house they were standing in front of, not a blade of grass out of place.

  * * *

  Nick finished his last leg lift and pushed to his feet. Sweat drenched him. Taking a towel and wiping his face and neck, he stared out the picture window that faced Jesse’s house. He saw her climb the steps to the deck and enter her kitchen, her movement a graceful extension of her lithe body. With her brown hair cut short and feathered about her face, her large green eyes and ready smile emphasized her pixie look.

  He remembered the time he’d seen Jesse right after he’d finished his physical therapy exercises. He couldn’t believe it had only been five days ago. She was all Cindy talked about—besides her kitten and her new friend, Nate. Suddenly he seemed surrounded by Jesse and her family. And the last thing he needed or wanted was another woman in his life. He was still piecing his life back together after his accident and his unhappy marriage to Brenda.

  He turned away from the picture window and limped toward the door, determined to accomplish two things this summer: get to know his daughter better and get back to being one hundred percent after the last operation on his leg. For two months he’d promised to devote himself to those two tasks. He could run Blackburn Industries from here for that short amount of time. He would have to leave the everyday affairs of his company to his capable staff, but he already had been doing that since the accident. Cindy needed this. He needed this.

  “Daddy! Daddy!” Cindy slid to a halt, tears streaming down her face.

  He knelt in front of her, the action intensifying the pain in his leg. He ignored it and clasped his daughter’s arms. “What’s wrong, princess?”

  “Oreo’s gone!”

  * * *

  Jesse kneaded the dough, flipped it over and started all over again, shoving her palms into it. She pounded her frustration out on the soon-to-be loaf of bread. Still no one came to mind as a possible candidate for Nick and time was running out. He would only be here seven more weeks. Courting a potential wife didn’t happen overnight. Of course, it would help if he left his house more often. Then she might have a better chance of fixing him up with someone.

  Who? That was the problem. She had been so wrong about Tara and Felicia. The third one was the charm. But who?

  She placed the dough in a blue ceramic mixing bowl and covered it with a damp cloth. The doorbell chimed. She quickly washed her hands, then hurried to answer it.

  The worry on Nick’s face prompted her to ask, “Is something wrong with Cindy?”

  “Yes—I mean, no, not her exactly. Oreo. He’s gone. We can’t find him and she’s beside herself. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

  “No.” She stepped out onto the porch and automatically scanned the area as though that would produce the errant kitten.

  “I thought so, but I had to ask. I’m desperate. I promised Cindy I wouldn’t come home until I found Oreo. I’ve been up and down the street, along the lakeshore. Nothing.”

  “What happened?”

  “Oreo darted out the front door when Cindy came back from playing with Nate this morning.”

  “I’ll get Gramps and Nate. We’ll come over and make some posters to put up around town. Cindy can help with them. It’ll make her feel better if she’s doing something.”

  “When I left, she was in her room crying. She didn’t want to talk or do anything.”

  “I’ll get the supplies we need and be right over.”

  “What should I do in the meantime?”

  “Hold Cindy.”

  “I tried. She cried even louder.”

  “That’s okay. Hold her anyway.” Jesse rushed back into her house to gather some poster board, markers and her family.

  When they arrived at Nick’s house, Boswell immediately opened the door before Jesse had a chance to ring the bell. Silence greeted her as she entered. She hoped that meant that Cindy had calmed down.

  As Boswell closed the door, the little girl, with Nick following, rushed into the foyer, her eyes bright with un
shed tears. “You think we’ll be able to find Oreo? Daddy said you’re gonna help.”

  The eager hopefulness in the child’s voice touched Jesse. She hated making promises she couldn’t keep, but it was hard not to say what Cindy wanted to hear. “If Oreo is in Sweetwater, we’ll find him.”

  Heavenly Father, please help me find Oreo. Cindy has already lost a lot in her short life. I know I just made a promise I might not be able to keep. Please help me to keep this one promise.

  “What if—”

  Jesse laid her hand on the child’s shoulder. “No what-ifs. That’s wasted energy. We need to make some posters to put up around town and then form search teams to scour the area.”

  “Then let’s get going.” Cindy took Jesse’s hand and dragged her toward the kitchen.

  Jesse threw a glance over her shoulder at the rest of the group who remained standing in the foyer. “You heard her. Hop to it.”

  The children sat on the floor in the kitchen and made posters while the adults used the counter and table. Cindy copied off Nate and drew a kitten that looked more like a dog.

  Nick leaned close to Jesse and whispered, “Do you think this will help?”

  Jesse got a whiff of his clean, fresh scent with that hint of lime. Her pulse rate kicked up a notch. This was a rescue mission, nothing more, she reminded herself and said, “I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t. The people in this town are wonderful. When they hear that Oreo is missing, they’ll help look, too. This is the best way to get the news out. That and talk to whomever we see while we’re putting the posters up.”

  Doubt reflected in his gaze, Nick went back to work, absently massaging his thigh.

  “Is your leg bothering you?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  Jesse wondered about that as she studied the tired lines on his face and the pinched look he wore. He’d already been out looking for the kitten.