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Breathing a sigh of relief when Cody didn’t move, Ellie relaxed a bit. The truth wasn’t so shocking, after all. “There will have to be stipulations, of course,” she told the baby, her voice gathering confidence, if not volume. “I’ll only be able to offer whatever spare time I have. This can’t interfere in any way with my job at the clinic. With my long-term goals.”
Cody didn’t disagree. His little tummy still rose and fell methodically with every breath he took. Ellie knelt down beside the crib, resting one hand on the baby’s mattress.
“And I will in no way delude myself as to Sloan’s feelings for me this time,” she told him categorically. They had to be very clear on this point. “Loving him the first time almost killed me.”
With a deep release of breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding, Ellie sat down on her heels. It felt damn good to finally get that confession off her chest.
“You probably haven’t figured all of us out yet, but I’m pretty uptight as people go.” Confessing felt so good, she couldn’t seem to stop. “I tend to be serious—not fun and sexy like Beth.”
Stopping to make certain that the baby wasn’t paying attention, that she wasn’t hurting his sensibilities by mentioning the sex thing, Ellie watched his little lashes where they lay against his cheek. He was so beautiful. So innocent and trusting.
As were the little imps Sloan had had propped against his hips the other day.
“I’m not going to fall in love with him again,” she told the sleeping infant. “Men like Sloan aren’t attracted to women like me—but that’s okay,” she added hurriedly. “I’m at peace with that. I have my family—which includes you, little man—and I have my job, which I love. Together you all make up the solid foundation upon which my life is based…”
By the time Ellie finally returned to her bed, the night was half gone. But she spent the remainder of it enjoying a surprisingly peaceful sleep.
SARA WALKED QUIETLY through the administrative department of Maitland Maternity, only vaguely aware of the hot take-out container warming her hands. Her boss, Shelby Lord, had asked her to deliver breakfast to R. J. Maitland, and she was going to do just that, in spite of the fact that the billionaire family intimidated the hell out of her.
His secretary’s desk was empty. Shelby had said all she had to do was leave the eggs Benedict with Dana Dillinger. She hadn’t said the woman might not be at her desk.
Damn. Now what did she do?
Looking from the warm container—which wasn’t going to be warm indefinitely—to the cracked door of the president’s office, Sara shifted her weight from foot to foot.
She might not know much at the moment, but she was fairly certain that R. J. Maitland wasn’t going to be too happy with cold eggs. She’d only been at the diner next door for a couple of days, but she’d already heard enough about the workaholic eldest Maitland sibling to know that much. She knew, also, that she needed her job—desperately. At the moment, it was all she had.
“Excuse me, sir?” She pushed open the door.
R. J. Maitland, bent over his desk, didn’t even look up.
“I’ve brought your breakfast,” Sara tried again.
He continued to scribble something across the page in front of him.
Not knowing what else to do, and fretting about the customers and tips she was missing back at the diner, Sara tiptoed forward, placed the container on his desk.
“Thank you.” The words were slightly muffled, aimed as they were toward the desk.
“You’re welcome,” she said automatically.
She left the room as quickly as she’d come, pretty sure that R. J. Maitland didn’t even know she’d been there. For all the attention he’d paid her, he’d probably thought she was his secretary—the woman who delivered his food to his desk on a fairly regular basis, from what Sara had heard.
Hey, for all she knew, maybe she’d been a secretary, too. Maybe she knew all about delivering take-out cartons of food to a boss without disturbing him.
Still on the second floor, which housed the administrative offices, Sara heard a baby cry and stopped, her heart almost beating out of her chest. She leaned against the wall, hoping no one was coming, telling herself she’d be okay and trying to breathe. She heard it—the baby was still crying. And suddenly, so was Sara.
What was the matter with her?
Trembling, she clung to the wall for support, reaching deep inside herself for whatever well of strength had seen her through the last couple of weeks.
“Sara?”
The voice was familiar. Friendly. Ellie.
“Are you okay?”
“I will be.” She straightened, smiled at Ellie, wiped away her tears. She’d liked the serious-minded woman when they’d met the other day. She’d felt safe when Ellie was near.
“You sure?” Ellie asked, her eyes filled with compassion, and more. There was a quiet strength about Ellie Maitland that made Sara feel as though she could rely on her for anything.
Even picking up the pieces of a broken life. If she asked Ellie to help her, Sara knew somehow that the other woman wouldn’t stop until she’d found Sara’s answers—no matter how long it took.
“I’m sure,” Sara said, finding a smile. She couldn’t ask someone as important as Ellie Maitland for help. But it sure felt good to know that the woman was close by, if Sara ever reached the point where she couldn’t carry on another day. The thought gave her strength.
“We could sit for a minute if you’d like, or I can call a nurse.”
Shaking her head, Sara felt her strength returning. “I’m fine, really,” she insisted, anxious now to get back to her customers. Her tips. “It was just weird there for a minute. I heard a baby cry and I just—I don’t know, I lost it for a second.”
Frowning, Ellie studied her. “Were you maybe remembering something?”
The possibility had crossed her mind. The feeling had been so strong, so devastating. “Nothing but a feeling, if I was,” she said.
A feeling she was petrified to trace. What awful things were lurking in the darkness of her locked-up mind?
“I guess I better get back to the diner,” she said, before Ellie could pursue the conversation.
“If you ever need to talk, my office is right down the hall.”
Though she couldn’t imagine taking Ellie up on the offer, Sara was warmed by it just the same.
“DA-EE, UP!”
“No, Alisha, I’m changing Ariel,” Sloan explained to the toddler tugging on the leg of his jeans.
“Da-ee up!” Alisha demanded a second time, her voice starting to tremble and gain volume both at the same time.
“Alisha, Daddy’s changing Ariel,” he said, trying to reason with her. “I can’t pick you up right now.”
Keeping both of his hands firmly on the baby squirming on the change table, Sloan spared a quick glance for the little girl clutching his leg with pasty fingers.
“Da-ee, up!” Alisha wailed.
Sloan picked her up.
“You ever gonna learn to stick to your guns?” Charlie asked from the doorway of Ariel’s room.
Damn. Sloan hadn’t known Charlie had arrived yet that morning. It was humiliating having the older man see him make such a mess of things.
“I stick to my guns on the things that matter,” Sloan said. He just couldn’t think of what mattered that much at the moment.
So here he was, one daughter sucking her thumb in his ear, the other rolling over, half dressed, on the table in front of him, and his housekeeper shaking his head as if Sloan were the biggest loser on the face of the earth.
Unwilling to have Charlie witness the uproar if he attempted to finish dressing Ariel, Sloan picked up the diaper-clad infant and pretended that he’d meant to take one half-naked daughter to breakfast. At least Ariel was halfway ready. Alisha was still in her pajamas, having thrown such a fit when Sloan had laid her down to change her that he’d decided to give it a rest and tackle Ariel first.
He was saved from further admonitions when the phone rang, and Charlie went to answer it. He hoped whoever it was would keep his housekeeper busy for half an hour at least. It was going to take Sloan that long to convince his darling daughters to sit in their high chairs for breakfast.
“It’s for you—I’ll take them,” Charlie said, back in the doorway.
Sloan would have argued, but he knew better. As he handed the girls over, he also knew that he could be on the phone five minutes and return to find Charlie with both girls dressed, strapped in high chairs and happily eating Cheerios.
“Sloan Cassidy here,” he said, picking up the phone in the office, oddly ashamed at the relief he felt now that he’d escaped to his haven.
“It’s Ellie.”
His heart dropped. And then sped up double-time. In all his life, he suddenly realized, there’d never been any time he’d felt happier than during those hours he’d spent with Ellie in high school. “I’m glad you called,” he said. It was the first thing that came to mind.
“I’m not agreeing to anything, Sloan, so don’t run with this or anything, but what exactly did you have in mind when you asked for my help?”
Don’t run with it. He silently repeated her warning, but it was no good. He was dashing all over the countryside. “There are times when I need to go places with the girls and could sure use a companion to help with double car seats, double spilled food, double tears,” he said, thinking for starters.
That was the easy part.
“I can’t guarantee I’d be available whenever you have to go somewhere.”
“Even some of the time would be great,” he hurriedly assured her. “Even one time would be heaven.”
“They’re that much trouble?”
He hadn’t been talking about the girls.
“They’re a handful, at least when I’m around.” And the way he remembered it from high school, he’d always felt stronger, more capable of coping when Ellie was there. She just had a way of making things seem manageable, and, Lord knew, he could use managing.
“They’re different when you’re not around?” she asked, homing right in on the problem, as Ellie always had.
“So I’m told.” So he knew. He could hear Charlie in the kitchen already, pouring cereal. Which meant the girls were in their high chairs, right where they belonged.
“Why?”
Sinking into the big leather chair behind his desk, Sloan turned and looked out the picture window at his ranch. Cattle, tornadoes, squatters, he could handle. Baby girls, he could not. “That’s what I really need your help on,” he admitted. “I need you to teach me how to be a father, or a mother, or any kind of parent at all.”
The admission should have been humiliating, but with Ellie, it wasn’t.
“I’m hardly an expert,” she warned.
“I took them to the zoo.” Sloan heard himself recounting one of his worst nightmares. “Neither of them would sit in their stroller. But when I tried to carry them, they kicked and squirmed to get down. I put them down—they’re both walking now—and they wouldn’t hold my hands. Thankfully they were distracted by a cotton candy vendor. I bought some for them, but they refused to sit down to eat it. Ariel threw hers and hit me in the chest with it. Alisha just cried all over hers. The animals ran scared, and everyone was looking at me like I was some kind of demon. I finally had to leave with them screaming so loud all the way out to the car, I’m surprised someone didn’t call protective services.”
He wasn’t sure, but he thought Ellie was laughing. “It wasn’t funny,” he said, breaking out in a sweat just thinking about the awful day.
“Ever thought of not giving them everything they ask for?” she finally said, her humor, if it had been there, under control.
“I don’t.”
“Okay, so when do we start?”
Wanting to pin her down before she had a second to change her mind, he asked, “Is tomorrow too soon? We have eighteen-month well-baby checks, and I won’t even bother to tell you how awful the last doctor visit was.”
“What time?” Ellie asked, all businesslike.
Sloan looked up the appointment on his calendar, and Ellie said she would take a late lunch to accommodate him.
He hung up as soon as he’d made plans to pick her up at the clinic shortly after one. And the only reason he suddenly felt fifty pounds lighter was that he finally had some help with his burden. It had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that he had Ellie Maitland back in his life again.
He was an adult now, his self-control well and truly tested. He wouldn’t make hash of the friendship as he had in high school. Wouldn’t tarnish it, or Ellie, by giving in to his baser appetites. She was going to help him with his girls. Period.
He wasn’t going to repeat old mistakes.
ELLIE OFTEN RETURNED to her office at the clinic after dinner, and, that’s exactly where Lana Lord found her that night.
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