скачать книгу бесплатно
“What you did to Mr. Alex was unconscionable,” Matilda Hastings scolded. Knowing the old man was up to something, she’d remained in a far corner of the room during his grandson’s visit. William, she knew, had allowed her presence because her hovering over him had made him seem even more ill. Now, returning from seeing Alex off, she approached William Bennett’s bed. Coming to a halt beside it, the fifty-seven-year-old, short, plump woman, her auburn hair dulled by strands of gray, stood, her arms akimbo, frowning reprovingly. “I helped you raise that boy, first as his nanny and then staying on as your housekeeper. I know how much he loves and admires you. He must have made me swear a dozen times that I’d let him know if there was any change in your condition, and I’m to see that the doctor comes both morning and night to check on you. He’s heartsick thinking you’re dying.”
William shrugged. “We’re all dying from the day we’re born. It’s the cycle of nature.”
The frown on Matilda’s face darkened even more. “But you are not currently in any danger of meeting your Maker. We both know you’re going to live to be a hundred. You’re just exhausted from staying day and night at that last drill site until oil was struck.”
William drew in a robust breath and smiled broadly. “You don’t understand the invigorating smell of fresh crude.”
Matilda crinkled her nose. “You’re right, I don’t.”
“As for my grandson, it’s time he married and sired an heir or two.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that he simply hasn’t met the right woman?”
William suddenly frowned. “I’m not so sure that there is a ‘right woman’ for us Bennett men. Our luck in that area doesn’t run too good. But he needs a wife at least long enough to give him a child.” His frown turned to a speculative smile. “This should light a fire under his feet. And, if there is a female like the one he described, I’m going to enjoy meeting her.”
“Or maybe he’ll rush into something you’ll both regret,” Matilda warned. “There are mistakes and then there are mistakes. Remember the one his daddy made.”
William’s smile faded. “I hadn’t thought of that. We’ll have to keep a close eye on the boy.”
Matilda issued a loud snort. “I’d find me another job and leave you to your own devices except that you’d never find anyone else who’d put up with you. Besides, someone has to stay and look out for Mr. Alex.”
* * *
It was late into the night by the time Alex arrived at his home outside of Grand Springs. The two-story, sprawling log structure sat on a mountainside in the midst of several acres of wilderness. The back faced a vast lake. He’d had it built large enough to house guests comfortably, figuring it would be a good place to bring business associates he wanted to soften up or impress. But once it was finished, he’d kept it as a private retreat.
Glancing at the pile of newspapers Roberta Nyes, his cleaning lady, had left on the hall table, he frowned. According to the latest headline, the murderer of Olivia Stuart had not yet been found, nor did the police seem to have any definite suspects.
He recalled the funeral. Olivia had been mayor of Grand Springs. He’d met her at various fund-raisers Noah had dragged him to. After learning of all she’d done and was trying to do for the town, he’d grown to admire her. Out of respect, he’d made a special effort to attend the service. It had been a strained affair. Her daughter, Eve, and son, Hal, had delivered eulogies. As she spoke, Eve’s voice had broken and tears had trickled down her cheeks. Hal had seemed more in shock than in sorrow, but then everyone handled death in different ways. Besides, having one’s mother murdered would shake anyone up. And to have been left standing at the altar on the same night as his mother’s death had to have been a double whammy.
“Women. From the very beginning of time, they’ve been nothing but trouble,” Alex muttered. A grudging grimace played across his face. Even as he’d tried to concentrate on the funeral rites, he’d found himself surveying the assembly, looking for the dark-haired, hazel-eyed woman from the night of the storm.
His jaw firmed. It was definitely time he sought out this Nina person and got her out of his system once and for all.
* * *
Nina Lindstrom sat on the side of her son Tommy’s bed and smiled encouragingly down at his pale face. “We’re going to meet Dr. Genkins at the hospital tomorrow. He’s going to find out why you’re feeling tired and dizzy lately and make it all better.” Silently she said a prayer that this would be the case.
The towheaded, hazel-eyed six-year-old had always been an active child, constantly getting into things and squirming when made to sit too long. When he’d begun to slow down a couple of months ago, both she and her in-laws had attributed his behavior to the maturing process. But lately they’d begun to worry. When he’d started complaining about being dizzy, she’d called Dr. Genkins.
A preliminary examination had shown nothing serious, and the pediatrician had hypothesized that Tommy could be having some fluid build-up in the inner ear. He’d prescribed a mild antihistamine. But the dizzy spells had continued to grow worse. Now Tommy swayed when he walked, and she’d noticed he was dropping things more than usual. She kissed him lightly on the forehead. “Now, you go to sleep and get your rest.”
His mouth tightened and his jaw tensed. She recognized his brave face, the one he used when he was scared but didn’t want to admit it. “I’ll be with you all of the time,” she promised.
His jaw relaxed and she kissed his cheek. “Sleep tight,” she said, rising.
Moving to the second bed in the room, she looked down at the sturdy little dark-haired, blue-eyed four-year-old boy there. “You get some sleep, too, Peter.” Ruffling his hair, she kissed him good night.
“Tommy be well soon?” he asked worriedly.
“Yes, soon,” she promised. She needed to hear herself say the words to bolster her own courage. She’d heard the concern in Dr. Genkins’s voice when she’d called about Tommy’s increasing symptoms.
Leaving the boys’ room, she found her eight-year-old daughter huddled, clutching her favorite doll, in the recliner that had been Tom Lindstrom’s favorite chair. Elizabeth, blond and blue-eyed like her father, looked anxiously up at her mother. “Is Tommy going to join Daddy?”
Nina’s jaw firmed. She couldn’t bear another loss. “No,” she said with conviction. “Come on, it’s time for you to be in bed, as well.”
Elizabeth slipped out of the chair and, taking her mother’s hand, accompanied her into the second bedroom of the small two-bedroom apartment. There Nina tucked her daughter into one of the two twin beds. But she was too tense to climb into the other and go to sleep.
She went into the tiny kitchen and made herself some warm milk, then went into the living room and sank down onto the couch. It seemed like lately if anything could go wrong it had. The storm had caused extensive damage to the Grand Springs Diner where she worked as a waitress. Because of that, the diner was closed, and there was no telling when it would reopen. Or even if it would. Ma and Pa Olsen, the owners, had put the place up for sale.
In the meantime, she hadn’t been able to find a steady job. She’d been called a couple of times by the various catering services she normally moonlighted for, but those had been one-day jobs and the pay didn’t come anywhere near meeting her monthly expenses. She’d have to dip into her meager savings to pay the rent and buy food. And now there would be doctor’s bills.
Other than her children, she had no close family of her own. And she refused to ask Tom’s parents for financial help. So that they could save enough to retire without having to worry about putting food on the table, his father worked fifty-to sixty-hour weeks as a mechanic and his mother had cleaned houses until arthritis in her shoulder and hip had forced her into retirement.
Besides, Helen Lindstrom was already helping enormously by baby-sitting Nina’s children while she worked. Nina wanted to pay her but Helen refused, saying that watching her grandchildren was an act of love that helped ease the pain of having lost her son. Even more, both Helen and Ray treated Nina like a daughter and gave her emotional support for which she would be forever grateful. Nina wouldn’t ask for more from them.
“I’ll find a way to make ends meet,” she vowed.
Closing her eyes, she leaned back and, searching for a moment of peace, tried to clear her mind of all thoughts. Instead of the blank slate she sought, a man’s image appeared. In the past, the image had always been of her late husband…blond, blue-eyed Tom Lindstrom. But tonight the man who filled her mind was brown-haired and green-eyed.
Frowning, she opened her eyes. The cords in her neck had tensed and she massaged them. Ever since the night of the storm, the green-eyed man had haunted her, popping into her mind and her dreams, unexpected and uninvited.
“He and I come from two different worlds,” she grumbled at herself. If the lights hadn’t gone out and she’d waited on him as she had on other occasions, he would never have given her a second look. She would have been nothing more than the hired help, someone to ignore unless there was reason for complaint. He would have been so oblivious to her that if she’d passed him on the street the next day, he wouldn’t have recognized her. She pushed Alex Bennett from her mind, returning her attention to her real concerns.
The thought of Tommy lying pale and afraid in his bed brought her own fear back to the surface. She recognized the bud of panic. Following Tom’s death, she’d had several moments when anxieties about her ability to care for herself and her children had threatened to overwhelm her. But she’d overcome them. Her jaw tensed with resolve. She would not let fear rule her.
Tom’s death had taught her a very valuable lesson. It had taught her to rely on herself. Following her parents’ deaths, she’d turned to him for comfort and support, and he’d encased her in a protective blanket of love. Two months later, when she’d turned eighteen, she’d married him. She’d trusted him to be there always to take care of her and their offspring. Then came the day the drunk driver had forced him off the road and down a two-hundred-foot drop to his death. Suddenly, for the first time in her life, she was really on her own, and with three small children to care for. It was like learning to run before she’d even learned to stand. But she’d made it. They had a roof over their heads and food on the table.
But for how long? demanded the nagging voice of fear that would not completely disappear.
“For as long as I have the strength to work,” she replied curtly.
Abruptly she recalled Jessica Hanson predicting that things would work out well for her, and there had been gossip that the woman could see into the future. But how far? Nina wondered dryly. Since the storm, her luck seemed to be going from bad to worse and was showing no signs of changing. “People make their own luck.” She repeated aloud a phrase that had been one of her grandmother’s favorites.
She picked up the newspaper, intending to go directly to the Help Wanted section. Instead, her attention was caught by the article about the murder of Olivia Stuart. The police, it reported, still had no solid suspect. She hadn’t really known the woman, but she was aware that Mrs. Stuart had done a great deal of good for their town, and she hoped they caught the culprit soon.
Her gaze shifted to an artist’s rendering of a young girl’s face. The story accompanying it was an update regarding the abandoned baby who had been born the night of the storm. The face belonged to the mother.
“Well, at least she went to the hospital to give birth so the baby had a chance for survival,” Nina noted, her heart going out to the infant.
The story again recounted how the teenager had come into the delivery room in labor, given birth, then fled soon after. She’d given the hospital staff a false name and address, and the authorities hadn’t been able to locate her as yet. The baby, the article stated, was doing well, and the doctors didn’t expect any complications. They’d named the child Christopher.
How could someone abandon a child? she wondered. Was the mother so callous she was indifferent to her baby, or had she run away because she was terrified of the responsibility of taking care of a new life?
Nina thought of her own three children. It was her love for them and theirs for her that had kept her going during those dark months following Tom’s death. Because of them, she’d overcome her anxiety and found the strength to go on. She couldn’t imagine her life without them.
Again Tommy’s small, trusting face filled her mind and her chin trembled.
“Everything is going to be all right,” she stated firmly, and turned to the Help Wanted section.
Chapter Two
Alex entered Vanderbilt Memorial Hospital and made his way to Noah Howell’s office. He’d called to see if Noah had time for lunch, but Noah’s receptionist had informed him that his friend had a full schedule. Not being a man who liked to be put off when he had a purpose, Alex had been insistent, and she’d penciled him in for a few minutes between morning appointments. Because he knew Noah had so much on his mind following his sister’s disappearance from her wedding, Alex hadn’t mentioned Nina to him earlier. Now, with no one else acknowledging knowing her, he hoped that Noah could lead him to the woman.
“He’s expecting you,” the receptionist said, lingering annoyance at Alex’s insistence in her voice.
“Thanks.” He gave her a quick, quirky smile to say he knew he’d irritated her and was sorry.
A slight upward tilting of one corner of her mouth let him know he was forgiven.
He entered Noah’s office and eased himself into one of the leather chairs facing Noah’s desk. He wanted to inquire immediately about Nina, but instead, after waiting until his friend had finished jotting down something on a patient’s chart, he felt obligated to ask, “Have you heard anything more from Randi?”
“Only that one phone call, which didn’t really offer much.” The lines of worry on Noah’s face deepened. “A part of me wants to strangle her for not letting us know where she is. Another part just wants her back safely.”
“Maybe she’s staying away because she’s embarrassed to face her wedding guests, or maybe she’s afraid to face your mother. Melissa seemed to want that marriage pretty badly.”
“My mother can be insistent at times,” Noah conceded. “Too insistent.”
“Well at least you have Amanda to help you through this.” Alex felt a slight nudge of envy toward his friend. Immediately he dismissed it with a mental shrug. If other men wanted to risk the betrayal and hurt that could come with falling in love, then they were welcome to take the gamble. As for himself, he’d rather be safe than sorry.
Noah nodded. “I’m a lucky man in that respect.” He leveled his gaze on his friend. “My receptionist says you steamrollered your way in here. I appreciate your concern regarding Randi, but I have the feeling that my sister’s situation isn’t the real reason you’re here.”
Wondering how to broach the subject of Nina, Alex decided that bluntness was the best way. “You’re right. I’m looking for a woman.”
Amusement sparked in Noah’s eyes. “I’ve never thought of you as a man who would have trouble finding one.”
“Not just any woman. She was a guest at Randi’s wedding. She left before I could get her phone number or her last name.”
The amusement left Noah’s eyes, and he studied his friend speculatively. “If a woman has stayed on your mind this long, it must be serious. Are you considering giving up your bachelor status?”
“No. We Bennett men don’t have much luck in choosing the right woman. Like I’ve told you before, I’ve decided not to even try. When I get ready to have a family, I’ll find someone with all the right attributes…looks, brains…and cut a business deal with her to sire me a couple of heirs.”
“Not all women can be bought,” Noah cautioned.
Alex regarded him dryly. “They all have their price. Love. Money. Power. Security. It’s different for each one. But if what you’re willing to pay doesn’t meet their expectations, they’re gone, searching for greener pastures.”
“You’re a cynic.”
“I prefer to think of myself as a realist. Now, how about helping me find this woman. She’s in her late twenties or maybe early thirties, long black hair, hazel eyes, around five feet, nine inches tall, slender, pretty. Her name’s Nina.”
Noah frowned and leaned back in his chair. “And just why are you looking for this particular woman?”
Alex read the protective glint in his friend’s eyes. “You know her, don’t you?”
“I know someone who matches that description.”
“I have no intention of misusing her,” Alex assured him. “I simply want to make her a business proposition.”
“To sire you a couple of heirs?”
“No.” Alex knew the only way he was going to get Noah’s cooperation was to tell him the whole story. “My grandfather’s dying. He wants me married, so I invented a fiancée. Turns out I found myself describing this Nina. I want to hire her to pose as my fiancée to make Grandfather’s last days happy.”
Noah’s expression remained serious. “I do know of a Nina who matches that description, and she could have been at the lodge that night.”
Alex was aware of his friend’s hesitation. Normally he respected Noah’s opinion and would have asked why Noah seemed less than enthusiastic about him meeting this Nina. But like a predator on the scent of his prey, he refused to be deterred. “My grandfather is the only family I have. I’ll pay the woman well and behave like a gentleman at all times. You have my word on that. Just tell me where I can find her.”
“She’s not your usual type.”
Impatience brought Alex to his feet. “This is important.”
“You’ve always been a man of your word.” Noah hesitated for a moment longer, then said, “Her name is Nina Lindstrom. She was in the MRI waiting room a few minutes ago.”
A jolt of concern shot through Alex. “She’s having a magnetic resonance imaging? What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing that I know of. It’s her son.”
“Her son? She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.” A reason for his friend’s hesitation occurred to him. “Is there a jealous ex-husband in the shadows?”
“No. She’s widowed.”
“Thanks.” Alex was already on his way to the door.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Noah called after him.
Ignoring the doubt in his friend’s voice, Alex strode down the hall and punched the button for the elevator. Then, too impatient to wait for it, he headed for the stairs.
Emerging on the second floor, he made his way to the MRI waiting room. Through the windowed wall, he saw her. She was dressed in a faded blue cotton blouse, much-worn jeans and sneakers…all of which he guessed had come off the racks at the local discount store. Her thick black hair was pulled back and worked into a French braid that hung to the middle of her back. She wore only a hint of lipstick for makeup. The strain she was under was evident in her features. Her eyes were closed, and her hands were clasped in her lap, giving the impression she was praying.
This was not the Nina he’d expected to find, nor the place he’d expected to find her. He’d thought she was either one of the idle rich or a successful businesswoman. Clearly she was neither.
He’d pictured himself meeting her at one of the finer restaurants in town. She’d arrive wearing something chic, in red, perhaps, that showed off her figure. Her delicate features would be softly defined by just the right amount of makeup. Her thick black hair would hang loose and flowing around her shoulders. Every man’s head would turn as she crossed the room.
Instead, they were in a hospital, and she looked tired and drained. His plan to ask her to help him fool his grandfather seemed suddenly frivolous. He told himself to leave, find an actress to play the part and forget about Nina Lindstrom. But she looked so close to desperation, he couldn’t make himself walk away. He’d bullied a friend in order to find her. He should at least speak to her.
Hearing someone enter the room, Nina stiffened and prepared herself to hear the worst. Opening her eyes, she thought for a moment she was seeing things. She closed her eyes, then opened them again. She wasn’t seeing things. Alex Bennett was still standing in front of her. Today he was dressed in slacks and a pullover shirt. She guessed his Italian loafers cost more than her entire shoe wardrobe…probably more than her entire wardrobe. She also noticed that even in casual attire, he had an authoritative demeanor that left no doubt in her mind that he never allowed himself to lose command of whatever situation he found himself in.
“It appears our paths have crossed again,” he said.
“Yes.” Recovering from her initial surprise at seeing him, sympathy spread over her features. “I hope the test goes well for whomever you’re here with.”
“I’m not here with anyone.” Unwilling to admit he’d been trying to track her down, he added, “I stopped by the hospital to visit Noah Howell. He’s on staff here, and I saw you. You looked as if you could use a friend.”
Drawing a shaky breath, she glanced through the plate-glass windows in the direction of the testing rooms. “It’s my son Tommy. He’s been ill. Dr. Genkins ordered a brain scan.” The knot of fear in her stomach tightened.
Lucky kid, Alex thought. His mother honestly cared whether he lived or died. In the next instant, he was reminding himself that he’d survived just fine without a mother’s love. “Your son’s in good hands,” he said, recalling Dr. Jim Genkins from one of the charity functions organized to raise money for the hospital. He’d been impressed by the tall, slender, white-haired physician’s dedication. He’d also heard several people, including Noah, praise the man’s ability.
“I know, but that doesn’t make the waiting any easier.” He made her nervous, awakening stirrings that had been dormant since her husband’s death…stirrings she had no energy to deal with at the moment. Her gaze dropped to her hands, and she waited for him to make some final encouraging remark, then leave.
The urge to sit down beside her and put his arm around her shoulders was strong. Instead, recalling the way she’d bolted the night of the storm, Alex seated himself across from her.
