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Rebecca had swiftly regained her pride in the years since her divorce, yet she’d never found the courage to have a real relationship again. She’d dated a bit, even met a few men she genuinely liked. But nothing ever went too far, and Rebecca knew that the fault was hers alone. She never let her fledgling relationships progress very far and always found some reason to bail out before things grew serious.
It was fear, plain and simple. She didn’t need a therapist or self-help guru to diagnose her problem. Logically she knew all men weren’t faithless, but emotionally, she just didn’t trust the opposite sex any longer. Besides, she’d found that earning a living and taking care of Nora required her full attention and effort. Though she was occasionally lonely and from time to time imagined a perfect romance that could magically sweep away her fears, Rebecca was largely content with her life and always put off the idea of dating for some future time in her life.
When Nora was older, she told herself, or when her professional life was less demanding of her time and energy. She knew these reasons were all thin excuses, convenient shields. But she allowed herself the pretense and fended off friends and relations—mostly her two sisters—who never grew tired of trying to fix her up with dates.
At least by living at the Berringers’ for the summer she’d be out of that loop, Rebecca reflected, and the relative isolation would give her the perfect excuse to neglect her love life, or lack thereof.
The week passed quickly and the morning soon arrived for Rebecca and Nora to drive to Bridgehampton in Rebecca’s aged and overloaded car. She’d hired two college students with a van to move her furniture and many of the boxes.
All in all, she didn’t have much to show in the way of worldly goods, which was more or less the way she preferred it. Rebecca had never been impressed by wealth or the privilege and power it commanded. Her ex-husband had often accused her of what he called reverse snobbery, and though she was sure she wasn’t usually judgmental, she sometimes thought she did have an automatic bias against rich people. Matthew Berringer, however, had impressed her favorably, and for all his money, she had found him quite down-to-earth. As for her new patient, Rebecca thought as she turned down the long drive that led to the mansion, well…any snobbery Grant Berringer possessed was the least of her problems right now.
“Wow…we’re going to live in there?” Nora asked with a gasp.
Rebecca had to laugh at her reaction. “That’s right.”
“It does look like a castle…practically,” Nora conceded.
“It’s as close as we’ll ever get, honey,” Rebecca replied. As if to underscore her advice, Eloise, in her cat carrier, released a long, plaintive yowl.
As soon as Rebecca and Nora arrived, Matthew sent down some of the house staff to help, and the car and van were unpacked in no time flat. Rebecca felt a bit disoriented by the moving-day confusion, especially since Nora insisted on opening various boxes, looking for favorite toys and other belongings she feared Rebecca had left behind. Rebecca had hoped to put their things away in an orderly fashion, but soon the place was topsy-turvy.
In the midst of the confusion, the phone rang, and Rebecca was greeted by Grant’s deep, commanding voice.
“So, you’ve finally arrived. When did you plan on seeing your patient…next week, perhaps?” he asked in a cranky tone.
For a man who had to be persuaded to hire her, he was certainly taking a different tack today, she reflected. Different, but no less imperious.
“I was just doing a bit of unpacking. Do you feel neglected already?” she countered.
She was probably starting off on the entirely wrong foot—and would be fired by dinnertime, hence wasting energy with all the effort of moving in—but he sounded so much like a spoiled little boy, she couldn’t resist answering him tartly.
“That’s not the point.” He bristled. “I believe that you’re to be paid very well for your time here, Ms. Calloway, and I expect your complete attention. Is that clear?”
“Quite clear. Though, in fact, you don’t start paying me for my time until Monday morning, and today is Saturday,” she reminded him politely. “Also, please feel free to call me Rebecca.”
She heard him grumble but couldn’t make out the words. She didn’t expect an apology, and there was none.
She did expect him to hang up, but instead he said, “It’s almost twelve o’clock. If you haven’t had any lunch yet, please join me. On the terrace off the library, in about half an hour or so.”
It was more of a command than an invitation, Rebecca noticed, but it seemed to indicate that he was eager to see her again, which was a hopeful sign.
“Thank you, I’ll see you then.” She hung up the phone, checked her watch and quickly glanced at herself and then Nora. They both looked as if they’d been dragged through a trashbin by the hair. They’d never be ready on time, but Rebecca knew she had better try.
Miraculously, a half hour later, she had bathed Nora, dressed her in a yellow gingham sundress and sandals and put her long hair in a ponytail. No time for a braid. Nora didn’t understand why she had to suddenly dress up but submitted to the treatment with little complaint. Rebecca had quickly showered, pulled on a long floral skirt and silk tank top she’d found at the top of the clothes pile and then whisked on some lipstick. She grabbed Nora’s hand, and they scurried down numerous hallways until they finally found the library. Nora thought it was a game and raced ahead, despite Rebecca’s hushed warnings to slow down.
A bit out of breath but right on time, Rebecca composed herself at the door to the library. She took a deep breath and smoothed her hair before entering. The room was empty, but she heard voices outside the glass doors that opened to the terrace. As she stepped onto the terrace, she saw Matthew and Grant sitting at a table set for lunch. Rebecca stopped a few feet away from the table and smiled at them both.
“Well, here we are,” she said brightly.
“And right on time,” Matthew replied with a smile. He rose to greet them. “How nice to be joined for lunch by two lovely ladies.”
Rebecca smiled in reply as he held out her chair. But when she turned to greet Grant, his dark gaze was narrowed, his brow knitted in a frown. He stared at her, looking positively shocked. She couldn’t quite figure it out. Then she realized he was staring at Nora.
“Who’s that?” he demanded, indicating Nora.
Rebecca felt her daughter clutch her hand and looked to see the child’s expression grow wary and tense. She pulled her protectively to her side. “My daughter. Her name is Nora.”
“You never said you were bringing a child,” he bellowed.
Rebecca glanced nervously from Grant to Matthew, who seemed to shrink into his seat. “But…I told Matthew. I assumed he told you,” she explained.
Grant’s dark eyes widened, and his mouth tightened into a hard, grim line. He stared across the table at his brother. “You knew she was bringing a child here?” he demanded.
“Rebecca told me about her daughter during her interview,” Matthew admitted smoothly. “We’ll discuss this later, Grant. No reason to frighten the little girl.”
“No reason, eh? No reason to tell me about the child, either, I suppose…until it’s too late. Because you knew I wouldn’t permit it!” he roared. His fiery gaze swept from Matthew to Rebecca. “And I won’t,” he insisted.
Rebecca took a deep breath and stood tall against his outburst. She didn’t know what to say. If Matthew knew his brother had such strong objections to having a child in the house and had hidden Nora’s arrival from Grant, then she could understand Grant’s anger. Not that it excused his manner of expressing it.
“Grant, please.” Matthew approached his brother. “Calm down. Try to be more reasonable—”
“Why in heaven’s name should I be reasonable? You’ve purposely tricked me. The both of you. Just because I’m in a wheelchair, does that mean you have a right to control and manipulate me? To completely ignore my opinion?” He backed his wheelchair away from the table, then came directly toward Rebecca and Nora.
His dark hair looked longer and shaggier than at their first meeting, Rebecca thought. And his glowing lion’s eyes burned bright and wild. Even in his anger, Rebecca still felt that irksome tug of attraction she tried so hard to deny.
He was acting like a child, she told herself. Still, she understood his side of the situation. He was a proud man, now forced to rely on others for every need. It was a question of self-respect. She was sorry she had not been aware of his objection. She would have confronted him directly about it, as an equal. Now he seemed to believe she was in on the deception.
“I wasn’t aware that you didn’t want to hire someone with a child,” she said honestly. “It’s a big house. Nora will do her best to stay out of your way. If that’s not a satisfactory solution, we can go.”
He rolled the chair closer, glaring at her. “I would like you to go,” he announced in a low, harsh tone. “Today, if at all possible.”
“Grant—come on now,” Matthew urged. “Rebecca has a contract.”
“What’s the difference? Pay her out. Pay her for the whole damn summer. What do I care?”
“But why must she go?” Matthew persisted. “It was all my fault. You can’t just—”
“Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do!” Grant turned toward his brother and pounded his fist on the tabletop. The plates and silverware clattered. “I’ll do as I damn please! Do you understand that?”
Clinging to Rebecca’s side, Nora suddenly burst into tears and buried her face in her mother’s skirt. Rebecca was overwhelmed by a wave of protective instinct.
“Nora, sweetheart,” she crooned. “It’s okay.” She crouched and wrapped her arms around the little girl in a sheltering embrace.
“Can’t we go, Mommy? He’s…scaring me,” Nora whispered between sniffles.
“Don’t be afraid, sweetie. We’re going right away,” she promised.
She scooped Nora up in her arms, though the child was well past the age of easy lifting. Nora clung to her and buried her face in her mother’s shoulder. If this was the atmosphere Grant would create, then perhaps it was best if she took Nora away. As she turned to leave the terrace, Rebecca glanced at Grant with a searing look.
“Proud of yourself?” she asked, though she didn’t know how she dared to be so insolent to him.
The look he gave her in answer stopped her cold in her tracks. His eyes flashed, and he looked away, quickly turning his chair so he didn’t have to face her.
“You don’t have a clue about me, Rebecca Calloway,” he said in a hushed, almost apologetic tone. “It’s best you get away now, while the going is good. Best for your little girl, too.”
Rebecca stood stone still for a moment, feeling dazed and confused. But before she could think of anything to say in reply, Grant turned his chair, and she was suddenly facing his back. Matthew glanced at her and made a small motion with his head, indicating that she should leave them.
Hugging Nora close, she made her way through the study and down the labyrinth of hallways to their rooms. Nora had calmed down considerably and didn’t need to be carried all the way—which Rebecca considered a small blessing, since her back was already sore from moving, and she faced repacking many boxes and loading her car again.
Once in their rooms, Rebecca explained that Grant was not a bad person and that his outburst didn’t have anything to do with Nora personally. She told her daughter he was terribly unhappy because of his accident and slow recovery. Nora seemed to understand.
A few minutes later, Matthew brought them some lunch on a tray. Nora immediately ran over and chose a sandwich. Rebecca had lost her appetite and picked up a cold drink. Matthew moved a few boxes to the floor, then sat on the small sofa and sighed.
“I need to apologize,” he began. “This whole mess is all my fault. I knew Grant would object to having your daughter here, but I’d hoped that once you arrived, he’d get used to the idea,” he explained.
“What does he have against children?” she asked. “Does he think having Nora with me will distract me from my work?”
“No, it’s not that.” Matthew met her gaze then looked away. “I’m not free to say. But maybe you can talk to him about it. He might explain it to you.”
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