Bachelor Father

B
achelor
Father

Traditional Contemporary Romance

By

Jean C. Gordon

Copyright © 2007, 2011 Jean C.
Gordon

This book is a work of fiction and any
resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or
locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of
the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Chapter One

“How can he do this?” Molly took off her
glasses and set them on the document she’d been reading. Tears
blurred the type, and she shook with anger.

Her stepbrother Scott sat on the other side of
The Judge’s desk. A few too many “power lunches” had turned Scott’s
once athletic body flabby and that, along with a liberal sprinkling
of gray, made him look older than his thirty-eight years. “Your
mother named Dad trustee of your trust. He’s only following the
provisions she put in it.”

Molly picked up a glass paperweight. She had
never figured out what Scott resented more, his father having
married her “nobody” mother or the fact that she came along with
the marriage. Rubbing her thumb across the smooth dome, she tested
its weight in her hand, and contemplated using it to wipe the smug
look off Scott’s face.

“How much of this was Mom’s idea and how much
came from you and your father?” she demanded. “I’m certain this
wasn’t in the original trust agreement.” When Mom had married the
Honorable—that was a laugh—Judge Douglas Donahue, the only thing
she’d asked for Molly was that he help fund a trust to provide for
Molly’s education.

“Molly, honey.” Helen Potter, the family’s
long-time housekeeper, placed a reassuring hand on her
shoulder.

Since Helen was more like family than most of
her real relations, Molly had asked Helen to join her and Scott.
Molly trusted Helen. She had dried Molly’s adolescent tears when
her mother’s constant criticisms were too much to bear.

“Scott had nothing to do with the new trust
provisions,” Helen said. “The Judge added them after you finished
college—as his way of looking out for you way up there in New
York.”

Molly bit back a smile. Helen always did know
everything that was going on in the household.

“Looking out for me? I’m twenty-six years old.
I’ve been on my own for the past eight years.” And alone for much
longer than that. “How much looking after could I need?”

Concern darkened Helen’s eyes. “I’m sure The
Judge meant well. He—”

Scott interrupted, “Since you insisted on
paying for all of your schooling yourself, the trust assets are
quite substantial. You couldn’t manage them yourself.”

His words brought a grimace to Molly’s face.
That sounded like her Mother. She never would believe Molly—or any
woman, for that matter—could manage more than a small weekly
allowance. Her mother depended on men for everything; she always
had. But Molly hadn’t asked The Judge—she refused to call him
Dad—for the whole trust, just enough for the down payment on the
condo she was now renting. She hadn’t even wanted to ask for that,
but the building management company was phasing out rentals, and
she had to either buy or move. Unfortunately, her savings wouldn’t
stretch to cover the full down payment.

Helen squeezed her shoulder. “The Judge is
helping your mother look after your welfare.”

Molly clenched her fists in anger. “My
welfare! He’s using the trust to keep me under his control, even if
he can’t stand the sight of me. He summoned me down here to
Maryland for his answer, but couldn’t bother to be here to refuse
me himself.” Her voice rose half in fury, half in pain. Her mother
couldn’t be bothered to be here either. That hurt. She turned to
Scott. “The Judge has you doing his dirty work again. How can you
stand it?”

“Molly,” Scott said in the honeyed voice he
reserved for small children, women, and his hunting dogs. “He was
called away on court business. As a member of the law firm that
drafted the trust agreement, I’m just verifying what it says for
you.”

Molly pushed Helen’s hand from her shoulder,
stood, and paced the office. She spun around. “Scott, can he really
do this? Require me to marry in order to withdraw any of the trust
assets?”

Scott nodded. “The trust stipulates that you
have full rights to all of the trust assets on the date you marry
or on your thirty-fifth birthday, whichever comes first. Until
either of those events occurs, the trust money can be used only for
your education or substantial medical bills not covered by
insurance.”

She dropped back into the chair and
thoughtfully tugged a strand of her red-blond hair. “I don’t
understand,” she said to no one in particular.

Helen answered, “Your mother would like you to
marry so you’ll have family close by if anything happens to her. I
don’t find that at all strange.”

Molly did. Why would her mother be suddenly
concerned about her having family? She thought briefly about her
two younger half-siblings, the trips her mother and The Judge took
with them, and the birthday extravaganzas her mother threw for
them. Her mother never even invited Molly to join in these “family”
activities.

“If that’s so, why do I get the money when I’m
thirty-five, even if I’m not married?”

“Because by then, you’ll be an old maid and
really need it.” Scott laughed heartily at his poor attempt at a
joke.

Pushing away from the desk again, she walked
to the office door. “It seems to have gotten awfully warm and
stuffy in here. I’m going for a walk to clear my head. Who knows,
maybe I’ll meet some poor, unsuspecting bachelor while I’m
out.”

Chapter Two

Brett Cahill stared out at the gray morning,
ignoring the computer-aided drafting program running on his PC in
favor of watching the rain pelt the window. Drops hit the glass,
exploding in sprays that cascaded down the farmhouse window in a
sheet of water. A rustling from across the room drew his attention
back inside. He looked at Jake sleeping in the playpen. Except for
the boy, the month since Kate and David’s funeral had been as
blurry as the view outside.

He couldn’t believe his little sister was
gone—or that he was now the father of a two-and-a-half year old.
Brett had tried to accept the words the minister had said at the
funeral, that Kate and David were at peace. But he couldn’t imagine
how his sister could be at peace without the baby she had cherished
so.

The phone rang. He grabbed it before it rang
again, glancing quickly at the still sleeping baby. He wished he
could have let the answering machine get the call, but he didn’t
want to risk waking Jake. As much as he loved the little guy, Brett
needed this break.

It was probably Josh or Tina. His friends had
been after him to get out and catch a game or a concert, to get
back in circulation. Truthfully, Brett had been too bummed out and
busy with Jake. Or it could be one of those blasted telephone
surveys. He hoped not. He was a sucker for attractive female
voices, and he had work he wanted to finish before Jake woke
up.

“Brett Cahill,” he said briskly.

“Brett, this is Molly Hennessey from Thayer
House. I'm taking over as your adoption caseworker while Susan
Green is on maternity leave.”

“So Susan had her baby,” Brett
said.

“Babies.” Molly corrected him. “She had twins,
three and a half weeks early, which caught us all a little off
guard, Susan especially.”

Molly laughed, deep and throaty, bringing a
smile to Brett’s lips. After another glance at Jake and at the
program still running on his PC, he settled back in his chair. He
could use a break from work, too.

“I see we haven’t talked to you since the week
after your sister’s accident,” Molly said. “With Susan out, we’ve
been understaffed, as usual. How is Jake settling in?”

Brett relaxed even more, enjoying the inviting
huskiness of her voice. A little harmless telephone flirtation
might dispel the dark cloud of memories that had started to creep
over him.

“Pretty well. He’s not asking for Kate as
much, but he keeps a close eye on the front door, like he’s
expecting her and David to walk in at any time.”

“Poor tike,” Molly said, her voice thick with
emotion. “Despite all he’s been through, Jake sounds like he’s
adjusting. How about—”

A crack of thunder drowned out Molly’s
question, and static threatened to take over the phone
line.

“Molly, are you still there?”

“Yes.”

“This storm may knock out the phone. It
happens all the time. We’re the last phone on the Albany
exchange.”

“In that case, before we lose our connection,
I need to set up a home visit. Is either tomorrow afternoon or
Thursday morning convenient for you? I realize this is short notice
and you may have to make work arrangements.”

“Either is good. I’ve pretty much
finished all my outdoor work for the year and plan to spend the
next few months working at home and spending my time with Jake.” He
looked at the pile of paperwork surrounding his computer and the
toys littering his office and laughed. “Or, maybe I should say
spending my time with Jake and
trying
to work at home. Getting any
work done with active toddler around is more of a challenge than
I’d thought.”

“Can I quote you on that in our monthly
newsletter? I know some of our mothers would love to have you share
that observation with their husbands.”

Brett caught the humor in Molly’s voice.
“Nope,” he said. “This conversation is strictly off the record. I
wouldn’t want to cast any doubts on my parental capabilities.
Besides, think what it could do to my reputation as an all-American
male, not being able to handle one small boy.”

“All right,” she said with an exaggerated
sigh. “But there goes my scoop.”

More thunder rumbled in the background. “We’d
better set a time for tomorrow. Why don’t you come about
one?”

She doubled checked her calendar. “Sounds
fine.”

“Do you know how to get out here?”

 “
Susan has directions in
your case folder. Let me double-check them with you.”

Brett ran his hand through his hair and tried
to put a picture with Molly’s voice. It was a little game he liked
to play, guessing what people looked like based on their telephone
voices. He decided she was a tall willowy brunette. Yeah,
definitely tall and willowy with long dark hair.

While Brett admired the woman he’d created in
his head, Molly finished reading the directions. He shook the image
from his head. Most likely Molly was plump, middle-aged, and
married with six kids. Ah, but her voice . . .

“Brett?”

He cleared his throat to answer.
“Yes?”

“Oh, good. I thought we’d been
disconnected.”

 “
Those directions should get
you here with no problem,” he said hiding his embarrassment. He’d
been so busy conjuring up pictures of her, he hadn’t realized she’d
stopped talking.

“Terrific. I’ll see you tomorrow about one.”
He could barely hear her over the static on the phone line. “Oh, I
almost forgot. I have a couple of papers for—”

The thunder crash that shook the farmhouse was
so violent, Molly swore she could feel it over the phone line
before it went dead. She tapped the disconnect button a few times,
and then re-dialed. Nothing. The storm must have knocked out
Brett’s phone line. She had wanted to tell him she needed him to
finish filling out the new adoption application.

Since Kate and David’s adoption hadn’t been
finalized yet, Korean Child Welfare, the Korean adoption agency
affiliated with Thayer House was requiring Brett to go through the
whole process to adopt Jake himself. It wasn’t enough that Kate and
David had named Brett as Jake’s guardian in their Wills.

“Oh, well. I’ll try again later.”

“Did you say something to me,
Molly?”

She turned to the affable black man seated at
the desk across the room.

“No, Charles, I was talking to
myself.”

She and Charles went back a long time, to the
camp her mother shuffled her off to every summer from the time she
was ten—the year her mother married The Judge. Charles had been the
sports counselor her first year. She had given him nothing but
grief. She didn't like camp. She didn't like sports. She didn’t
like him. Most of all she didn't like herself. But that hadn’t
stopped Charles from taking her under his wing. At the end of the
summer, she’d cried because she had to leave him.