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Authors: Bonnie K. Winn

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BOOK: His-And-Hers Family
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Cassie listened to the unfamiliar terminology, guessing that he meant that their house was hopelessly outdated. And now that his brisk, impersonal style was back, she also guessed that his earlier lapse had been a rare one. “I’m sure Jimmy Ray can help you out. He’s always reading about computers. The school doesn’t have the funds for one, but Jimmy Ray still keeps up on everything.”
Blake glanced at the boy. “No computers in your school?”
“No, sir. But that doesn’t mean I can’t learn about them.”
“Of course not. I’ll show you what I need. If you want to earn some extra money, you can set things up for me.”
Jimmy Ray’s eyes brightened. He always jumped on a chance to earn something extra. “Yes, sir.”
“Mr. Matthews,” Blake reminded him.
Together they walked back inside the house. As the screen door banged behind them, flopping into place, Cassie heard their voices fading away.
It was best that Jimmy Ray had interrupted them. She didn’t want to embarrass herself by acting like a schoolgirl who’d never encountered a handsome man. Although she wasn’t sure Blake Matthews would even notice. The man seemed to live and breathe business. He might have had a brief nostalgic moment, but she guessed it had been the effect of the night air and the unaccustomed small-town atmosphere.
Still, she sat on the porch swing, listening to its rhythmic creaking as she rocked, wondering how other women would respond to a man like Blake Matthews. Knowing she needed to put the lock he’d started to open firmly back in place.
She was a mother, not a woman. And it wouldn’t do to start thinking like one.
 
BLAKE STUDIED the new connections in his bedroom that Jimmy Ray had installed. He would now be able to use his computer, fax and modem. Impressed, Blake wondered again about these children. They were motivated, goal-oriented, respectful, and at first he’d thought they were Stepford children—programmed robots. But over the past few days, he’d discovered they were also fun-loving, happy kids.
Katherine Ann planned to be a doctor, Jimmy Ray wanted a career in computer engineering. Even ten-year-old David John had a goal—to be a professional baseball player...or an astronaut. But he, too, worked hard at school and home. They all pulled good grades, yet did their chores without complaint. They also did odd jobs for extra money—from baby-sitting to yard work.
Blake’s own sons had one goal. To have fun. Kevin, his fourteen-year-old, merely looked bored when Blake tried to tell him that he had to start concentrating on his schoolwork if he wanted to get into a good college one day. Kevin clearly assumed that Blake would pave his way into college with money. Not home enough to ride herd on him, Blake knew Kevin was still blowing off his schoolwork. And the identical nine-year-old twins, Mark and Todd, were just short of running wild. His latest housekeeper did little more than make sure they didn’t burn the house down.
Blake had always heard that boys in fatherless homes were the ones in danger. Yet Cassie controlled her sons easily. Far more easily than he’d ever managed. If she had three pliable girls, he wouldn’t have been as impressed, but he knew how much more difficult it was to keep boys in line.
Blake wondered how Cassie did it. She must surely be stretched thin herself, between housework, parenting, running a boardinghouse and taking in sewing and alterations, but still her children were well-rounded, happy. He knew she rose early and worked late into the night. Despite her overwhelming schedule, she created a warm feeling of family and home. Blake wished he could bottle her secret.
From what he could see, Cassie didn’t have much of a social life, but he guessed she wasn’t interested. Katherine Ann had revealed that Cassie was thirty-four—and didn’t date. She certainly didn’t dress like a woman trawling for men. But then it had been a long time after his wife’s death before he showed an interest in women. He wondered how long it had been since Cassie’s marriage ended.
Blake hooked the cables to his computer. Or maybe Cassie Hawkins was one of those rare women who didn’t want or need a man in her life. Either way, it didn’t concern him.
Because of the close atmosphere of the boardinghouse, he’d learned more about the Hawkinses than he expected. Cassie automatically drew everyone in the house close. Even though she said she wanted to treat her guests the way a hotel did, her natural hospitality flowed through, putting everyone at ease, making her home theirs, as well. She encouraged them to use the parlor, raid the refrigerator and take advantage of the huge, inviting yard.
Blake wondered, though, why none of her guests were regulars. He suspected most boardinghouses depended on regulars, rather than an occasional tourist. Even though there were only a few hotels in town, they could amply accommodate the normal tourist trade, except during Rodeo Days. And few people stopping overnight for just an evening sought out a boardinghouse. He frowned, wondering how the Hawkinses would fare once Rodeo Days ended. Personally, he planned to leave a generous bonus when he departed. After all, Cassie had saved him from sleeping in his car, and he could well afford the expense.
It was clear, from all the economizing he’d seen, that money was tight. Blake’s suspicion that something else was going on deepened. The constant phone calls that left Cassie shaken, the expression of dread when the postman handed her the mail, the looks she exchanged with her children, which she thought no one noticed.
He’d also discovered that Cassie Hawkins was a very private person. Respecting that, since he was as well, Blake didn’t pry.
After finishing up his computer installation, Blake, accustomed by now to wandering through the house at will, left his room, venturing downstairs to the kitchen to grab a sandwich. He began pushing open the swinging door, but then he heard Cassie’s voice. From the one-sided conversation, it was clear that she was on the phone. Deciding to give her some privacy, Blake started to close the door but Cassie’s voice stopped him.
“I’ve told you. I
will
come up with the money. You know my word is good.”
There was silence as she apparently listened.
“Business is good right now, with Rodeo Days and—”
He heard another silence.
“I
know
Rodeo Days will end, but I’m hoping to find new boarders, and my sewing business is picking up, and—”
The silence was longer this time.
. “If you could just see your way to extending the note—”
The interruption was brief.
“I will do anything to keep the house. If you’ll just—”
The silence seemed to echo now.
“Yes, I know about my other outstanding bills. But when business picks up—”
The phone calls, letters and looks. The picture was coming together
.
Cassie’s voice was dull now. “Yes. I understand. But I’ll find some way.... Yes. Goodbye.”
Blake backed away from the door carefully. Making sure his feet were quiet against the wooden floor, he retreated upstairs. In her place, he wouldn’t want anyone eavesdropping.
So, she was about to lose this house. A place that was clearly important to her. He wondered at the man who had abandoned them. An offhand comment from Jimmy Ray had told Blake his father neither visited nor sent any financial support. And now the Hawkinses were facing eviction.
Blake knew he could offer the money, or pick up the mortgage note himself. But he knew without asking that Cassie would never accept charity. Still, the thought of the Hawkins family losing their home was galling. A picture of her hardworking children flashed in his mind. It wasn’t a fate any of them deserved.
It was difficult that evening to sit through dinner. Cassie was uncharacteristically quiet, even though she was as gracious and good-natured as always. Since he knew the truth, Blake wondered how she stood up to the pressure. The strain was visible in her face, especially in her eyes, but no one else seemed to notice. One of the disadvantages of knowing too much, he supposed. His appetite ruined, Blake ate little. Glancing around the table at the Hawkins children, who showed such promise, Blake couldn’t stomach the thought of them homeless.
Placing his napkin on the table, Blake pushed back his chair.
Cassie glanced up, concern replacing the strain in her expression. “Is something wrong, Mr. Matthews? If you don’t like the fish, I can cook—”
“That’s all right, Cassie. Just not too hungry tonight. Besides, I have a lot of work to do.”
She nodded, and Blake escaped before she could add anything else. He didn’t want to blurt out her secret to a roomful of strangers.
Back upstairs, he stood in front of the bay window, listening to the swish of branches against the glass as he gazed at the quiet street below. Katherine Ann had confided that the house had been in their family for generations. And now they were about to lose it. Having had money all his life, including the trust fund that he had used to establish his business, Blake didn’t know how it felt to stand on the edge of financial ruin.
His mind once again went over the possibilities. And once again he didn’t come up with any he thought she would agree to. It was too bad she couldn’t bottle the secret of her success with her children. Now
that
would be worth a fortune.
straightening up suddenly, Blake turned from the window. She might not be able to bottle her success, but she could sell it. And he knew the perfect customer.
Him.
Chapter Three
C
assie knocked lightly on Blake’s door, hoping she wasn’t disturbing him. The light beneath his door always shone brightly late into the night as he worked, but Cassie thought perhaps he wasn’t feeling well now. He’d barely touched his dinner. And he had been enthusiastic about her cooking since his first taste of her fried chicken.
The door opened suddenly, and Cassie offered him a tentative smile. “I hope you weren’t napping. I thought maybe the fish really wasn’t to your liking. I’ve brought something light. Soup and a chicken sandwich.” When he didn’t answer, she gestured self-consciously toward a small dish on the tray. “And rice pudding—that usually sets well on your stomach. The iced tea is fresh. Just made a new pitcher. It’s sun tea, not boiled. Keeps it from being bitter.” She tried smiling again.
A strange, inexplicable expression crossed his face, touched his eyes. But then he sighed, accepting the tray and putting it on the desk.
Cassie ran her hands down the legs of her worn jeans. He didn’t turn around immediately, and she felt ill at ease, strangely awkward. “Well, I’ll let you be. If you need anything else, just hot—just let me know.”
Blake turned then, staring at her. Then he crossed the room in a few long strides. “Come in.”
“I don’t want to disturb you, and—”
Taking her hand, Blake pulled her inside and shut the door.
Cassie glanced nervously at him, very aware of the now closed door. “If you don’t want soup or—”
“How can you be talking about food?” He shoved one hand through his hair. “Or be concerned that I didn’t eat? With what you’re facing, you need to be worried about yourself, not anyone else.”
Cassie took a step backward and found herself against the door. He couldn’t be talking about... She cleared her throat. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I heard you this afternoon. On the phone. I didn’t intend to eavesdrop. I was going into the kitchen to get a sandwich.” His voice lost some of its aggressive gruffness. “So I know what’s going on.”
Cassie forced her voice to be steady. She knew she couldn’t hide the truth forever. “I guess it doesn’t matter. Unless I think of something fast, everybody in town will know. I haven’t told the kids about how bad it is with the bank. They know about the other bill collectors, but I couldn’t tell them about the house. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t, either.”
“And that’ll buy you what? A few weeks? A month? What then?”
Cassie swallowed her desperation. “I don’t know. But I’ll think of something.”
“I already have.”
Puzzled, she stared at him, then remembered the closed door. If he thought she was that kind of woman, he’d learn in a hurry that she’d sleep in the street before she’d sleep with a man for money. “I don’t know what kind of woman you think I am—”
“The kind who’s a great mother. One who can raise kids that are respectful and motivated. One who can make a house into a home.”
Cassie opened her mouth, but no sound came out. It had been a long time since she dealt with men, but this didn’t sound like any kind of proposition she’d ever heard.
“That’s your real talent, Cassie. It’s not making you any money here. But it can somewhere else.”
Confused, she found her voice. “What do you mean?”
“My boys need that kind of direction, discipline. They need a sense of home. And I’ll pay you well to provide it.”
“In Los Angeles?” Shocked, she could only stare at him.
His smile was amused. “Not much chance I’m going to move to Twin Corners.”
“The reason I need more money is to keep my house. There’s not much point in that, if I pick up and move across the country.”
“You could rent the house out, catch up on your mortgage payments, get yourself back on solid financial ground. I’m offering you a year’s employment contract, with an option to renew.”
“Number one, I’m not moving to Los Angeles. Number two, you might not have noticed, but this part of Texas went flat when the oil business went bust. Nobody would rent the house.”
Blake shrugged, as though that were a minor concern. “Then we’ll think of something else.”
“Are you serious? You want to hire me as a nanny?”
“Nanny, housekeeper, stand-in parent. I need someone who can keep my house running, get my children under control, give them what they don’t have now.”
Cassie could hardly believe his words. “You think you can hire someone to be the parent you aren’t?”
“I want someone to help me with the children, not replace me.” His tone was even, but she heard the flicker of pain he tried to repress.
Cassie felt that same mushy melting that struck her whenever she saw someone in need. She hadn’t intended to hurt his feelings, but she realized she had. It was one thing to toss his offer back in his face, another to insult him. “I’m sorry. I have so much on my mind, and you took me by surprise. I’m honored that you think I could help with your children, but it’s out of the question. Our life is here. I can’t uproot my kids, drag them away from their home. I appreciate you wanting to help. And I’m not sure if that’s not why you made the offer—instead of really needing a nanny. But the answer’s no.”
Blake didn’t look like a man who had been turned down. But she guessed that was because it didn’t happen often. “What about when they don’t have a home?”
She held on to her courage with the last of her shredding nerves. “I’ll think of something.”
He didn’t look convinced. “You have time to think over my offer.”
Cassie reached behind her for the doorknob. “I don’t need to think about it. I’m not changing my mind.” Not waiting for his answer, she escaped.
In the security of her own room, Cassie dropped her brave mask, sinking into the chintz-covered chair near the window. She didn’t have a clue what she was going to do. Having tapped every financial source, taken on all the work she could find, she didn’t know where else to turn. And with her limited education, the local jobs she could obtain paid barely minimum wage.
She glanced around the familiar room. Her eyes skipped across the bed, then returned slowly. So many of her memories were tied to this places. It had never occurred to her before that maybe not all of that was good. Her sense of failure was a clear memory. How often had she asked herself what she could have done to make the marriage better, more exciting? Then maybe Chuck wouldn’t have left, and her children would have a father.
And maybe now she wouldn’t be alone, misinterpreting a handsome man’s offer.
Sighing, she threw the thoughts aside. Examining all the maybes wouldn’t bring her the money she needed. She needed a solution. One thing was certain—it wouldn’t be accepting Blake Matthews’ offer.
 
BUT IN THE FOLLOWING DAYS, Cassie didn’t find a solution. And the bank was losing patience. They absolutely refused to extend the note even an extra month, much less the time she needed to gather the money.
Blake Matthews hadn’t repeated his offer, but she saw the questions in his eyes. Remembered the contract he’d offered.
Cassie decided to turn to the one person she could trust. Her mother. Not for financial assistance. Her mother lived on a small social security pension. But she always offered sound advice.
Martha Sanders opened the door, her face lighting up when she saw Cassie. Enveloping her only child in a hug, Martha fussed over her as they stepped inside. “You’re looking peaked, Cassie. What’s wrong, child?”
Cassie smiled tremulously, then poured out the entire story.
Her mother looked shocked. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
Shrugging, Cassie avoided her eyes. “I’ve been enough trouble to you. I didn’t want you worrying.”
Martha reached over to pat Cassie’s arm. “You know as well as I do that that’s what mothers are for. I wish I had the money—”
Cassie stopped her. “That’s not why I’m here. I just need a dose of your common sense.”
“You and the children can come here, of course.”
Cassie glanced around the cottage, the home she’d been raised in. Her father had died when she was a baby, and her parents’ plan to have a big family and move into a larger place had died with him. Martha had barely managed to scrape by. There had been times when she nearly lost the small house. And while Cassie was growing up, her mother had insisted that Cassie sleep in the one bedroom, taking the couch for herself. It had only been after Cassie married that Martha reclaimed the bedroom. When she divorced, Cassie had invited her mother to live with them in the larger home, but Martha had been insistent. She’d worked so hard to keep her little house that she didn’t want to live anywhere else.
Knowing her mother’s sacrificing nature, Cassie wouldn’t have put it past her to once again give up her room for the children. Aside from the fact that she didn’t want to crowd her mother from her own home, there simply wasn’t enough room. Five people in the tiny house would be unbearable.
“Thanks, Mom. But it’s not practical. I have to think of something else.”
“No regular boarders yet?”
“Nope. Oil jobs are gone, and so are the people who worked them. The kind who wanted room and board instead of hotel rooms.” Cassie stared grimly at the worn but clean carpet. “I haven’t come up with any answers. Just a wild scheme from one of the guests.”
“What kind of scheme?”
Grudgingly Cassie outlined Blake’s offer. “But, of course, I can’t do it.”
“Why not?”
Cassie blinked. “I can’t leave my home—”
“Which was Chuck’s home, as well,” Martha reminded her. “All of those memories aren’t good. It’s time you started making new ones.”
“What about the children? They don’t know anyplace other than here.”
“Maybe it’s time they learned. Maybe it’s time you all learned.” Martha leaned forward, taking Cassie’s hands. “This could be a fresh start for all of you.”
Cassie searched her mother’s eyes, knowing what she was referring to, wishing they could both forget. “I’d be all the way across the country.”
“With new people, making new memories. I think it would be good for you.”
“But the kids would probably hate it. They won’t want to change schools, friends—”
“Why don’t you ask them?” Martha’s tired but still pretty face softened. “If I recall, when you were their age, you dreamed about traveling to the far corners of the world.”
Cassie managed not to flinch. “And look where that got me.”
“Perhaps if you’d have had a chance to travel...”
Cassie looked at her mother uncertainly. “You really think this is a good idea?”
“Sounds to me like you’re running out of choices. You can lose your house, or you can take a chance. Talk to the kids, Cassie. They might surprise you.”
“Well, you certainly did, Mom.”
Martha’s generous smile matched her daughter’s. “That’s okay. I think you’re going to surprise yourself, too.”
 
CASSIE THOUGHT about telling her children that evening, but she kept putting it off until it was too late. Tomorrow was another day, she told herself. Right now, the kids needed their sleep.
Restlessly she prowled the front porch, too on edge to be content with the slower pace of the swing. Her mother’s words had set off a chain of discontent, uncertainty.
The door opened quietly. Instinctively Cassie stepped back, into the shadows.
“Won’t do any good to hide, Cassie. I’ve been watching you from the window.”
Blake’s words startled her. Not certain how she felt about him watching her, she pushed aside the warmth his presence brought. “Any special reason?”
“I wanted to see if you’d found your solution.”
She steadied her voice. “And what did you decide?”
“That you really need to take my offer.”
Deflated, she sank against the railing. “I haven’t stopped looking for another way.”
His face was in the shadows, but Cassie guessed it was covered by a disbelieving look. “What if I up my offer?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll catch up your back payments.”
“How did—”
“Banks seldom foreclose on current loans. In addition to your salary, you and your family can live in the guest quarters of my house. No rent, Cassie. The salary will be all yours. And if you rent your house, that will pay the mortgage. If not, you’ll have plenty of salary to handle it.”
It was a more-than-generous offer, one she wasn’t sure she could refuse. Still, her pride surged forward. “I don’t want to show my children that the answer is to run away.”
“You’re not running away. You may not have noticed, but in this century people often relocate to take a better job.” Blake moved closer, cornering her. “And while you’re thinking of your pride, perhaps you should think about your children instead.”
BOOK: His-And-Hers Family
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