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Authors: Patricia Rice

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BOOK: Impossible Dreams
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Axell had the grace to look embarrassed as he nodded for the
children to carry the box into the kitchen. “There’s never anything
in the refrigerator, and I didn’t think you were ready to attempt the
grocery store.” As the children raced into the other room, he bent over
the infant cradle to check on Alexa. “Has she been sleeping through this
racket? Constance used to shriek every time I shut a door.”

He crouched beside the cradle still wearing his strikingly
tailored raincoat, the one with the caped shoulders that made him look even
broader than usual. His square face was pensive as he surrendered his large
finger to little grasping ones. Even though that raincoat was a feared symbol
of authority to her, Maya knew she was in serious danger of losing her lonely
heart to this man. The poor devil instinctively took care of everyone around
him, but he had no clue how to accept the same in return.

“It just depends on what they’re used to.”
She shrugged off the topic. “I’m not as good as your chef, but
I’ve got bean soup cooking in the kitchen. Have you eaten?” She
tried to dismiss her reaction to him, but she knew it for what it was — the
burning desire to have a man’s love to fulfill her impossible dream of a
family.

She would have to cure Axell of his absurd notion of
marriage before she fell any deeper. She knew her nature too well. Without the
bonds of love, at the first sign of trouble, she’d be out of here, just
as she’d done with Stephen.

He stood and shrugged off his coat. “Bean soup sounds
delicious. We actually had beans?” Axell offered his hand to help her
from the deep cushions of the sofa.

His fingers were firm and warm and slightly callused as they
closed securely over hers. As much as she’d like to, she couldn’t
dismiss him as one of the effete rich. He was a working man, like all the other
men she’d ever known. He just happened to be more successful at what he
did.

“In the back of the cabinet. And there were frozen
onions and carrots in the freezer. I had to use a ham slice for seasoning, but
it looked like it had been in the freezer so long it wouldn’t have had
much use for anything else. I even found a package of cornmeal without weevils,
which is a miracle since I suspect it’s been in there since Noah invited
them on his ark.”

Axell grimaced. “Kitchen cabinets are not high on my
priority list, and they’re not on the cleaning service’s list of
chores. Make a grocery list and I’ll run in later.”

The phone rang before she could reply, and as Axell carried
the infant seat into the kitchen, she grabbed the receiver.

“Is Axell there?” a breathless female voice asked
from the other end of the line.

“Yes, may I ask who’s calling?” Maya had a
sneaking suspicion she knew, and throwing a naughty glance over her shoulder,
she verified that Axell was caught up in handing out pizza and not paying
attention to her. She could tear down walls as fast as he could build them.

“This is Katherine, at the restaurant. I need to speak
with him, please.”

“He’s busy at the moment. Could I take a
message?” The man deserved some time to eat his supper. Unless the
restaurant was on fire, she couldn’t see any reason for interrupting him.
Of course, ticking off the miniskirted model he called an assistant was a plus,
too. She would have to watch these jealous impulses.

“We have a drunk and unruly at the bar already, and
one of the kitchen staff didn’t show up. We need him back here,
ASAP.”

Maya heard the irritation in the woman’s voice, but
she suspected it was as much at having to leave a message as over the problems
arising at the bar. She knew procrastination and dereliction of duty when she
saw them. She’d been as guilty of laziness as the next person. She
checked to see if Axell was still occupied — he was watching her suspiciously as
he spooned soup into bowls — and lowered her voice.

“He says the bartender can heave out the drunk or call
the cops, and you can handle the staff problem in whatever manner you consider
most efficient. He’ll be down there after he’s eaten and put the
kids to bed. After all, we wouldn’t want him accused of neglecting his
daughter, would we?”

The dead silence on the other end indicated a direct hit.
With a smile, Maya gently hung up the receiver.

“Problem?” Axell inquired as he set the bowls on
the table between the kids.

“Nothing someone else can’t handle. I
didn’t have enough shortening for the cornbread. I hope it turned out all
right.”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously at her evasion, but he did no
more than go for the dishrag as Matty knocked over his glass of milk.

***

“May I come in?”

The elderly voice quavered, and Maya jerked her head up. She
hadn’t heard the bells chiming over the door, but then, she’d been
feeding Alexa and not paying much attention.

“We’re not open,” she answered gently,
wondering why on earth an old man would even bother with a New Age store like
this. The sunlight through the windows behind him cast his face in shadow, but
he seemed vaguely familiar.

“That’s all right. The girl who worked here
before, is she coming back?”

All her protective instincts leaped into gear. Cautiously,
Maya leaned her head to one side so she could better see the newcomer without
the glare in her eyes. “Mr. Pfeiffer?” she asked incredulously,
finally recognizing his silhouette. “You know my sister?”

“We talked sometimes,” he answered diffidently.
“She’s an angry young woman. I hope she’s all right.”

Maya laid the sleeping infant in the car cradle Axell had
carried in for her. He’d objected to her coming to the store, but
she’d pointed out that if she could stand in line at the courthouse to
get a marriage license, she darned well could do the shop books. She
couldn’t believe she’d actually agreed to the marriage license.
Still, she had time to argue him out of going through with a real wedding.

“If being in prison is all right, then I suppose
she’s just dandy,” Maya replied with more sarcasm than she
intended. Mr. Pfeiffer had never done anything to harm her. She had no business
taking her irritation out on him. She’d tried calling Cleo with the
announcement of Alexa’s birth, but Cleo had never returned the call.

“She got that self-destructive streak from your
grandmother,” Mr. Pfeiffer continued, as if he’d heard her
thoughts. “Back then, it was alcohol, though. We didn’t have
drugs.” He hesitated, leaning on his cane more heavily, then glanced at
Alexa. “Your daughter?”

The crack about their “grandmother” had nearly
stolen Maya’s wits. Unscrambling them wasn’t easy. “You knew
our grandmother?”

“Too well,” he admitted wryly in his squeaky
voice. “But that’s ancient history. Will you be keeping the school
open?”

She wanted to hear ancient history. She had vague memories of
a yard and a puppy, but she thought maybe they’d been reinforced from
Cleo’s reminiscences. Cleo was three years older than Maya and remembered
their parents much more clearly. But whatever memories Maya had of the
Carolinas had been printed over with layers and years of other places, other
people, and other traumas.

“We just had to close while the creek was up. Selene
is looking into asking the Department of Transportation for a bridge through
there, but we seem to be at odds with the prevailing establishment.” Maya
gestured toward the other chair at her table. “Won’t you have a
seat? I can fix some tea, if you like. I’d like to hear about our
grandmother.”

“No, I can’t stay. Maybe some other time. My
nephew is on the transportation board. He may be part of your problem.
I’ll talk to him. I hope the other building’s collapse didn’t
hurt anyone. It was tainted and I’m not sorry to se it go, but I worried
until I’d heard you’d moved your things here.”

Maya was still on the grandmother remark and only half heard
this commonplace condolence. The word “tainted” stuck though.
“Why tainted?”

He shuffled uneasily toward the door. “Bought with bad
money. Don’t ever sell yourself to the devil for money.” He halted
with his hand on the knob. “Tell your sister I asked after her. I hope
her little boy is all right.”

“Matty’s doing fine.” Maya hastily got up
as the old man turned the knob. “Please, I’d like to talk with you
sometime. Could I call on you?”

She caught a glimpse of the old man’s sad smile as he
turned away. “They’re putting me in a nursing home this afternoon.
Said I can’t take care of myself properly anymore. Can’t say that I
ever have, but there’s no sense arguing. I’ll talk to
William.”

Maya watched as he gingerly stepped into a battered station
wagon waiting at the curb. She caught a glimpse of a woman in a faded cotton
dress before the car drove off. He didn’t look back.

Old Man Pfeiffer knew her grandmother. Maybe there were
other people in the town who knew her family.

Not that it mattered, she decided with a shrug. She could
remember various “Aunt Janes” and “Uncle Bobs” through
her growing-up years, as they’d traveled from Tennessee to Arkansas to
Texas, usually one step ahead of the child welfare services. Nobody had ever
bothered explaining the family tree, so she had no recollection if the aunts
and uncles were her mother’s or her father’s relations. She just
knew none of them had bothered to fight for two lonely little girls after their
parents broke up and they’d ended up cold and hungry and stranded in
California.

She didn’t have much faith in family. Love
wasn’t something that arose out of blood relations. It was either in a
person’s heart or it wasn’t. It was just curious seeing Old Man
Pfeiffer inquiring about Cleo. His question about Matty made her wonder if
he’d been the one who sent the telegram warning of Cleo’s
conviction. Cleo certainly hadn’t had any other friends come forward.

Maya didn’t have Axell’s curiosity however. Life
happened in strange ways and one just swam with the flow. She’d ask Cleo
next time she wrote.

She studied the stairway behind her. It needed painting and
additional lighting to look welcoming. She wanted Cleo to come home to
something nice. But when Cleo returned, would she want Maya and Alexa cramping
that tiny apartment? Their lifestyles had never been particularly similar. Cleo
might have imagination, but she liked managing things, and Maya didn’t
like being managed. The friction might jeopardize Cleo’s recovery.

She was making excuses. She could live anywhere, with anyone.
She’d proved that for years. She didn’t want to do it anymore. She
wanted her own home. Axell said she could have his. Axell was insane.

And she loved him for his insanity.

Crossing her arms on the table and lowering her head to rest
on them, Maya quit throwing up smoke screens and stared clearly at the facts.
She would lose her school if she ran back to California and friends. She could
lose Matty if she stayed here. Axell Holm offered her a chance to keep both.

Axell Holm represented the kind of authority figure she
loved to hate. But that very same Axell Holm had cried as he delivered her
daughter, had suffered anguish so deep it had nearly bent him double at the
thought of hurting Constance, had chosen to keep a child possibly not his own
without argument, and had surrendered his own peace of mind in the process.
That was the kind of man she hated to love, because it could be dangerous and
lifelong.

Her tea cups were the only thing she’d been able to
hold onto for a lifetime. Her heart was more fragile than china.

Nineteen

Women who seek to be equal to men lack ambition.

“Axell Holm! Have you lost your mind? Gossip is flying
all over town! Surely, you’re not really going to marry that little
tart?”

Axell turned away from the new busboy he was teaching to
store bar glasses. Thank God Maya didn’t come equipped with a mother.
“Sandra,” he replied without attempting to bite back his fury,
“if you were a man, I’d pop you one right now. As it is, I’ll
just ask you to leave. I won’t deny you access to Constance, but I damned
well don’t have to listen to your insults in my own bar.”

Sandra’s carefully lipsticked mouth fell open. Maybe
he should have yelled at her long before this. Maybe keeping a careful curb on
his temper was a mistake. He hadn’t the patience to study the problem
right now. Grabbing Sandra’s elbow, Axell steered her toward the front
doors.

“We’ll duke it out in court. Judge Tony has
already assured me he has no problem with Maya Alyssum in Constance’s
life. His daughter goes to that after-school program too. All the kids think
she walks on water.”

“Her sister is a drug addict and convicted
felon!” Sandra cried angrily, shaking off his hold on her. “The
woman’s had a baby out of wedlock! Who knows what kind of men and
diseases...”

Axell caught her elbow again and shoved her out the open
doors. “Out, Sandra. Go home and find a life.” He slammed the door
after her and shot the bolt. The restaurant wouldn’t open for another
hour anyway.

Fury still steaming through his blood, he swung around at
the sound of clapping. Axell’s kitchen staff and Headley stood in the far
doorway, applauding his bad behavior. He really couldn’t believe this.
All his life he’d tried to be a model of mature control, and these morons
were cheering his loss of it.

Not Katherine. She shot him a look full of venom and
flounced out without a word. Headley shrugged. The chef-watching
Katherine’s hips swing in her miniskirt — sighed in regret, and the female
staff grinned hugely.

“What the hell are you all staring at?” Axell
yelled. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

The staff scattered. Headley remained.

“It takes guts to fight the establishment.”
Headley wandered back to the bar and helped himself to a bottle of ginger ale
from the shelf. “Your father used to smile and keep his thoughts to
himself rather than raise a stink, but he got things done. Saw him twist a gun
from a madman once, then grin and pat the man on the back. He taught you well.

BOOK: Impossible Dreams
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ads

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