He would have backed away then, but Cassie thrust a stick and a wiener at him.
“Slumming, Jeff?” she asked, one eyebrow quirked upward expressively. There it was again, he mused, that shortened form of his name. To his amazement, he found that he enjoyed hearing it on her lips. He was even starting to think of himself as Jeff, he decided.
He ignored the hint of sarcasm and threaded the wiener on the stick crossways. It didn’t look very secure and he wondered how long it would stay on.
Evidently, Cassie Newton was mentally posing the same question for she reluctantly took the items from his clumsy hands and patiently demonstrated the fine art of roasting hot dogs.
“You have to do it like this,” she instructed, pushing the meat on lengthwise. “Otherwise it will fall off when it begins to cook.”
Her eyes took in his curious outfit then, widening in surprise as she focused on the sizable tear above his left knee. She forwent the obvious comment and, with a grin, turned to skewer a hotdog for herself before moving toward the fire.
Jeff followed her, wishing he’d had this experience before. Feeling totally inept and out of place, he watched carefully, noticing the way she turned and twisted the stick to get each part of the meat cooked. He tried to follow suit but after several minutes, Cassie’s wiener looked golden brown and plumply delicious while his was shriveled and covered with black spots. Even the youngest child in the group had done better than he.
“Good for you, Missy. That looks great!” She praised the littlest imp with a glowing smile.
Jeff decided he liked the way her face lit up when one of the children teased her. A softening washed over her clear skin as she spoke to each. She didn’t talk down to them, he noted, and she didn’t boss. Cassie Newton treated each child as an adult person, entitled to her full attention. And as she listened to their little stories and jokes, Jefferson sensed her pleasure in them.
“We’re very happy to have you here, sir.” It was Bennet, grinning like a Cheshire cat as he bit into his own food. “Miss Judith used to say that sweet dill relish was what made the difference between a really good hot dog and a great one.”
Jeff smiled while his brain screeched to a halt. Aunt Judith had done this? Joined in a wiener roast in the garden? Stiff and stern Aunt Judith who wouldn’t tolerate a speck of dirt under seven-year-old fingernails?
He could hardly imagine such a thing. His curious eyes moved over the assembled throng.
It was like watching a huge family, he mused. Something like Norman Rockwell would have painted and totally unreal. He munched on the liberally ketchuped, but still charred, hot dog and thought about the curiously vibrant woman laughing down at seven wildly active children.
That Cassie managed all this with children who weren’t her own was wonder enough. But when you considered that they were children who were here for a short duration only, the bond she managed to create was amazing.
He wondered how she had achieved such a rapport with them even as a tinge of jealousy wove through his mind. He wanted, no, he dreamed, of having such a relationship with his own children.
Just then the real-life Norman Rockwell portrait happened right before his eyes. A little boy, no more than five, tucked his hand into Cassie’s and proceeded to tug her behind him to the lush green grass beyond the garden. On one end, it was covered with a pile of red and gold leaves in various stages of drying. As Jeff watched, they took turns tossing handfuls of the vibrantly colored foliage over each other, giggling merrily as the leaves stuck to their hair and their clothes. The picture stayed in his mind, clear and bright long after the game ended.
A whole new plan began to form in his mind.
One that involved the son he had longed for.
One that involved the petite dark-haired woman, industriously swiping at the mustard stain on the mouth of one of her charges.
One that involved Judith’s extensive estate and the money she’d wanted him to have.
Jefferson William Haddon III sipped his hot chocolate and thought about that idea.
A lot.
Yes, he decided at last. It might just be workable. As long as he kept his mind focused on the long term plan: A business that stretched around the globe and a son to leave it to.
“Oh, Lord,” she prayed, “why me and why now?” Cassie wasn’t nearly as nonchalant about the sudden appearance of Jeff Haddon as she would have liked him to believe. In fact, the sight of those broad muscular shoulders and lean, tapered legs had quickened her heart rate substantially in the lawyer’s office. And again when he appeared in the garden. But he need not know that.
Neither did he need to know the way her heart sped up when she looked into those rich chocolate eyes. Maybe it was because he sometimes looked like a lost little boy himself.
She laughed at the thought. Boy, indeed.
Don’t be a fool, she scolded herself. Jefferson Haddon certainly doesn’t require your mothering skills.
So she continued her ministrations with the children, hoping they would enjoy the wonderful fall weather while it lasted. And if ever there was a place for them to run and yell, free of the constant strictures of their everyday life, it was on the grounds of Judith McNaughton’s estate. The place was like a bit of heaven God had sent specially for their use. It seemed that now He was changing the rules.
When the afternoon sun lost its warmth, she scooted them all inside.
“Come on, guys, let’s go in and watch that new video Mrs. Bennet rented.” They trooped into the TV room with barely a complaint and settled down while she took the opportunity to relax for a moment in the sunroom.
Cassie glanced out the window longingly, thinking wistfully of what she would lose when she moved out in two months. Not that she wanted to; the place was made for hoards of children and Judith had been the best surrogate grandmother Cassie could have ever asked for.
She remembered the day she had filled out the first forms to become a foster mother. It seemed like yesterday and yet there had been a variety of children since then. And nothing had ever been as wonderful as Judith’s invitation to stay at Oak Bluff. That will had come as a surprise. Fondly, Cassie recalled the old lady’s words about the children.
“They need stability and order, my dear,” she had said. “And I think you are the one to give it to them.”
Cassie’s lips tightened as she remembered Judith’s comments on her nephew.
“He’s a stubborn one, is Jefferson, but underneath he’s a good lad. Honest and kind. Maybe a bit reserved.”
Judith had been fond of rambling on about her family and Cassie hadn’t paid as much attention as she should have.
Obviously.
She was still amazed that the ‘boy’ Judith had talked about was over thirty years old, tall, dark and handsome and from one of the city’s oldest families.
That he was here now seemed unbelievable. After all, he had not made an effort to see the old woman during the last few months of her life.
“It’s a wonderful old house, isn’t it?”
Cassie whirled around to find the object of her thoughts standing languidly behind her. His deep voice sounded friendly, without the arrogant tones she had heard