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“He’s not up yet,” Ethan said. “Lately I’ve been having to wake him to give him his shot and his breakfast before I leave to go to the university, but that interrupts his rest. Now that you’ll be coming every morning he can sleep a little longer.”
She smiled. “Fine. I’ll be happy to take over.”
“How about a cup of coffee?” he asked, glancing at his watch even though he knew exactly what time it was. He hoped the gesture would make her think it was a spur-of-the-moment invitation rather than the eagerly thought-out proposal it really was. “I don’t have to leave for a few minutes yet.”
“I’d like that,” Brittany said softly, and walked with him through the kitchen on the left side of the staircase to the small room they called the breakfast room. Ethan had pointed it out to her when he took her on a tour of the house the day he hired her. The sun streaming through the sheer curtains that covered the large windows flooded the area with light and bathed it in an aura of cheerfulness.
There was a round table and four chairs in the middle of the room, and two other chairs in the corners. A chest-high breakfast bar separated the two rooms, and potted tropical plants added shafts of color.
The electric coffeemaker was set up on the bar counter, and Ethan stopped to pour coffee into the mugs while Brittany pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Cream and sugar?” he asked.
“Black,” she told him, and he brought the two cups to the table and sat down beside her.
“I’ve left a list of phone numbers you can call for help if anything should go wrong,” he told her. “Mine at the university is at the top, of course, but there’s also Dad’s doctor, the next-door neighbors on either side of us and, as a last resort, my brother and his wife in New Orleans.”
“Thank you, I’m glad to have those,” she said. “I’m also interested in knowing what his limitations are aside from his occasional confusion. Can I take him out for rides or walks, or maybe a shopping trip?”
“Oh, sure, he loves to get out,” Ethan assured her. “That’s one of the biggest problems I’ve had with him lately. When he’s here alone he goes out and then can’t find his way back home.”
A voice from behind Brittany startled them both. It was Nate’s. “Ethan, you got any idea what time it is? Why didn’t you wake me up? You’re gonna be late….”
Brittany turned in her chair to look at him standing there in his rumpled pajamas, hair tousled, and an emerging twenty-four-hour beard.
He saw her at the same time and his eyes opened wide with shock. “Damn,” he bellowed, “why didn’t you tell me we had company?”
Nate crossed his arms over his chest and bent at the waist in an attempt to cover himself.
“She isn’t company, Dad, this is the woman I hired for you—”
“You got me a woman!” he sputtered in disbelieving amazement. “Look, son, I may be gettin’ older but I can still find my own girlfriends.”
Brittany couldn’t help it, she put her head back and laughed gleefully. Not that the fact Nate didn’t remember her was funny, but the looks on both his and Ethan’s faces were hilarious.
“No!” Ethan said, frustration mixed with compassion in his tone. “This is Brittany. She’s going to be your nurse-companion?”
She saw the confusion in Nate’s expression, but it was clear that he wasn’t going to give in to it.
“Well, my memory’s not so good,” he admitted, “but you got to admit my taste is impeccable.” He winked at her and put out his hand. “Welcome, young lady. Please pardon my get-up, but it’s not often I find a beautiful woman at my breakfast table.”
She put her hand in his and chuckled. “That’s hard to believe and, please, call me Brittany.”
He squeezed her hand and released it. “That’s a pretty name. Almost as pretty as the girl who bears it.”
Brittany tampered down the ire she always felt when called a ‘girl.’ After all, this man could be forgiven. He was of another generation when that title was both common and acceptable. “Thank you, Mr. Thorpe, but I’m no longer a ‘girl.’ I’m twenty-one years old. Old enough to drink hard liquor and vote.”
She caught the impish glee in his eyes even before he spoke. “Not at the same time, I hope.”
They both chuckled, and Ethan joined in as he pushed his chair back from the table and stood. “Now that we all have our identities straightened out, I’ve got to leave.”
Brittany stood up, too, and both she and Nate walked to the door with Ethan. When they got there he turned to Brittany. “The list of phone numbers I told you about is in the library on my desk. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”
“I won’t,” she said as he let himself out.
When he was gone she turned to Nate. “Do you want me to give you your blood test and injection now or would you rather wait until you’ve dressed and shaved?”
He grimaced. “I don’t need you to do that for me. I can do it myself.”
She wasn’t surprised at his resistance. He’d probably be more amenable after she’d been taking care of him for a while.
“Is that the way you prefer to do it?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“All right,” she said agreeably, “but you’ll have to walk me through it the first time so I can make sure you’re doing it right. It’s just a precaution.”
She knew it would be easier to get his cooperation if he thought he was doing her a favor.
“Sure. We keep all the stuff in the first-floor bath.” He turned and they walked together to the large Victorian-style bathroom, complete with a free-standing claw-footed tub and a commode that flushed with a chain.
Nate opened a wooden cabinet and took out the paraphernalia he needed, then stuck the end of his finger and pricked out a little blood with a sterilized needle to test on the glucose monitor. Everything there was okay so he filled the syringe and gave himself the injection in the stomach.
He’d been right. He was very good at this. If only he could remember to do it as often as required.
“Mr. Thorpe, can you—” she started to say, but he cut her off.
“Hold on there, missy, you don’t like to be called a girl, and I’m not all that hot about bein’ called an old man—”
Brittany gasped. “I never—”
“Oh, I know you’re too polite to actually say it, but why do you have to keep calling me ‘Mr. Thorpe’? It’s so formal. My first name is Nate. Any reason why you can’t call me that?”
She grinned. “None at all, Nate. Now, why don’t you go upstairs and get dressed while I fix breakfast. Remember, you have to eat within half an hour after taking the shot or you’re apt to get woozy. I don’t want you tumbling down that magnificent staircase.”
He chuckled. “I’ll bet you’re used to having men fall for you,” he teased.
Things went very well for the next two weeks. Nate didn’t forget who she was again and greeted her enthusiastically each morning when she arrived. They enjoyed each other’s company and got along just fine all day, but it was a different scenario with Ethan. He left as soon as she arrived at the house, and was coolly polite when he got home.
It seemed obvious that he didn’t especially like her, but why? He never complained about her work. At times during the few minutes of their comings and goings he even complimented her on how well his father was doing under her care, so why wasn’t he more friendly?
If he had a girlfriend there was no evidence of it. The only family photographs in the house were one of Ethan’s infant son, Danny, an adorable little tyke, which was displayed on the fireplace mantel in the family room, and one of Nate’s late wife, Sybil, Ethan’s mother, which Nate kept on his nightstand in his bedroom.
She wished Ethan would ask her to stay and visit sometimes. Maybe even invite her to dinner. She knew they did quite a bit of barbecuing in the evenings, but in the two weeks she’d been there they’d never mentioned having dinner guests.
Then, on the Thursday of the second week, a few minutes before Ethan was due home, the doorbell rang. Brittany, who had been rinsing dishes in the sink, grabbed a towel and headed for the foyer, but Nate beat her to the front door. He opened it and she saw his shoulders stiffen as he said, “Hannah? What are you doing here? Where’s the baby?”
Brittany stopped in her tracks. Hannah? Baby? Could this be Ethan’s ex-wife and their son?
Brittany stood there listening to a woman’s voice coming from outside. “He’s out in the car. Can you help me bring some things in?”
“Sure,” Nate said, and walked out the door where Brittany could no longer see or hear them.
Curiosity got the better of her, and she put down the towel and walked over to the open doorway. There she saw a white minivan with the side door open parked at the curb in front of the house. Inside was a child strapped into a car seat and a blond, statuesque woman wearing designer jeans and T-shirt and loading Nate down with various items of baby furniture.
What was going on here? Nate shouldn’t be burdened with all those heavy and ungainly items. He might stumble and fall!
Without hesitation she hurried out the door and across the lawn to the curb to confront him. “Nate, don’t try to carry all that stuff at once. Let me help you.”
The sound of her voice apparently surprised the woman, who had been leaning in the van to retrieve several suitcases. She backed out and glared at Brittany.
“Who are you?” she asked gruffly.
“I’m Brittany Baldwin, Mr. Thorpe’s caregiver, and you are…?” She wasn’t going to let this woman intimidate her. She took her orders from Ethan and no one else.
“I’m Hannah Thorpe,” she said sharply, then turned her attention again to Nate. “When did you get a caregiver, Nate?”
He shrugged. “It was after the last time you were here. She takes real good care of me.”
Hannah looked Brittany up and down. “I’ll bet she does.” Her tone was venomous. “Takes real good care of your son, too, I should imagine. I figured it wouldn’t be long before Ethan would take up with some other woman, but I expected her to be full grown.”
Brittany gasped. “Now, wait just a darn minute—” she started to protest, but Hannah was already halfway up the driveway to the house with the suitcases.
Brittany and Nate followed close behind with the pieces of baby furniture.
“Why are you bringing all this stuff over here?” Nate asked as they set their burdens down in the foyer. “We’ve got all we need to take care of Danny for his weekend visits.”
“Tell you later,” she said as she turned and hurried outside again, Nate and Brittany not far behind.
They all reached the van at the same time and again Hannah spoke to Nate. “You and Florence Nightingale here can finish emptying the van and I’ll get Danny.”
Brittany bristled at the mockery in the other woman’s tone but saw no point in pressing the issue.
Hannah climbed inside the vehicle and started unbuckling the baby from the car seat while Brittany and Nate waited for her to finish so they could get in to retrieve the other articles.
While they stood there waiting, Ethan’s car turned into the driveway and he got out. “What’s going on?” he asked as Hannah backed out of the van with the toddler in her arms. “This isn’t my weekend to have Danny.”
“It is now,” she said crisply, and held the child out to him. “Here, take him. He’s heavy.”
Ethan took his son and nuzzled him playfully on the neck. He was an adorable child with blond curly hair and sparkling blue eyes. “Hi, guy,” Ethan said as he lifted the kicking and giggling little one over his head. “To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of your company?”
“Da-da,” the little boy burbled, and grabbed a fistful of his daddy’s hair.
Ethan didn’t display pictures of Danny all around his house, Brittany thought, but the look on his face when he hugged his little son left no doubt of his love and pride in the youngster.
“I’m glad to hear you consider his company a pleasure,” Hannah said sourly, “because you’re going to get plenty of it. I’m moving to Chicago tomorrow, so I’m afraid he’s all yours.”
Brittany couldn’t believe what she’d heard, and apparently neither could Ethan. “You’re what?” he roared.
“You heard me,” she snapped, “but let’s go inside so the neighbors aren’t treated to an earful.”
She wrestled a high chair out of the van and carried it up the driveway, followed by Ethan carrying Danny. Neither Brittany nor Nate knew what to do, but they finally grabbed some boxes and brought up the rear.
Back inside the house Ethan picked up a folded playpen and led the way down the hall to the family room. The others put down their burdens and followed. When they reached their destination Ethan put the youngster on his feet and Danny immediately took off running from table to sofa to chair, all the while squealing with delight.
“This room has been pretty much childproofed,” Ethan said. “I’ll let him run around for a while, but we can put him in the playpen if he starts getting into things.”
Hannah slumped down on the sofa with a sigh. Even in jeans and no makeup she looked like a model. Her complexion was radiant and her short, blunt-cut hair was blond with golden highlights.
“I need a drink,” she announced. “I’ve been going at top speed all day and still I’m nowhere near ready.”
“Ready for what?” Ethan demanded. “What’s this nonsense about moving to Chicago? I’m telling you right now, if you’re planning to transfer up there, forget it. I’ll never give my permission for you to take Danny so far away.”
She shrugged. “I’m not asking you to. I can’t take him with me. I’ve been offered one of those once-in-a-lifetime promotions, but I’ll have to headquarter out of the Chicago office. Also I’ll be traveling a lot, both national and international. So, I’m leaving Danny with you. You’ve always complained that you don’t get to see enough of him.”
She straightened up and looked around. “Where’s my drink? Surely one of you big strong men can fix me a margarita.”
“I’ll do it,” Nate volunteered, then looked at Brittany. “Come with me and I’ll show you where the liquor cabinet is.”
She already knew where the liquor was kept, but she also realized that she had no business standing around eavesdropping on the Thorpes’ private conversation.
A hot flush stained her cheeks and she hurried along beside Nate on their way to the kitchen.
“I’m sorry you had to hear all that,” he said gruffly. “When those two start having at it, things can get pretty heated.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry,” Brittany corrected him. “I should have left the minute Ethan got home. It’s just that everything happened so fast—Where does Ms. Thorpe work?”
“She’s a big shot in a company that manufactures computer parts, and she’s determined to break through the glass ceiling and make it all the way to the top. And don’t apologize,” Nate said. “I’m glad you stayed. Do me a favor and don’t leave yet.”
Brittany blinked. “But all this is really none of my business—”
“Don’t be too sure,” Nate said as they reached the kitchen. “Ethan’s gonna need help tonight, and much as I love my frisky little grandson I can’t keep up with him.”
Nate retrieved the key to the liquor cabinet from its hiding place in a drawer, opened it and fixed Hannah’s drink. “My sons think I don’t know how infirm I am and I let ’em believe that, but I do know. I won’t risk lettin’ little Danny get hurt or lost because I had one of my spells of confusion when I was supposed to be watchin’ him.”
He finished mixing the cocktail and picked up the glass. “I’ll pay you overtime, of course.”
Brittany noticed that his hands were shaking and she silently but firmly took the glass from him before it spilled. This was a sign that his blood sugar was low and it was imperative that he eat something.
“Of course I’ll stay if you want me to,” she assured him, “but as a friend, not a nurse. There will be no talk of paying me overtime. Now, get a peach out of the fridge and eat it while I take this drink to Ms. Thorpe.”
He smiled. “You’re a sweet girl—uh, I mean woman. Sorry, I forgot—”
She felt a rush of affection much as she would feel for a grandfather if she still had one.
“That’s all right.” There was a catch in her voice. “I’ll make an exception for you. You may call me a girl anytime you want to.”
She turned and walked toward the family room.
