Charlene collected her three suitcases and stepped out of the crowd of passengers to pull a jacket from inside the smallest bag. March in chilly Amarillo was a far cry from the warmth of Red Rock, located in southern Texas near San Antonio. Sure enough, when she wheeled her bags outside, she was glad she had the added protection of the coat. She tucked her chin into the shelter of her collar and halted to scan the line of cars crowding the curb.
“Charlene! Over here!” Her mother’s voice carried clearly over the hum and chatter of passengers.
Charlene returned Angie’s enthusiastic wave and hurried down the walkway.
“Mom, it’s so good to see you.” Charlene basked in her mother’s warm hug, breathing in the familiar scent of Estée Lauder perfume.
“It’s been too long,” Angie said, scolding with a loving smile as she stepped back, holding Charlene at arm’s length. Her eyes narrowed as she swept a swift glance over her daughter, from her toes to the crown of her head. “You’re too skinny.”
Charlene laughed. “You always say that, Mom. I’ve lost inches but not pounds—I’ve been working out at the gym.”
“Well, now that you’re home, I’m going to feed you,” Angie declared firmly.
They loaded Charlene’s bags into the trunk. Moments later, Angie expertly negotiated traffic as they left the airport.
“Are you enjoying being in the condo, or do you think you’ll miss having a big yard this summer? You spent hours gardening at the old house, and I know you loved the flowers.” Charlene’s mother had sold the rambler where she and her siblings had grown up after her parents’ divorce three years earlier. Following college graduation and Charlene’s move to Red Rock, Angie had insisted she should be the one to travel for visits to her six children, especially Charlene, since her job as a Health Unit Coordinator at the hospital E.R. kept her so busy. As a result, Charlene had only seen her mother’s condo on two short weekend trips.
“I love condo life,” Angie said with a happy smile. “I still garden, but now I’m planting flowers and herbs in terra cotta pots on the lanai. Of course,” she added. “I still have to mow the strip of grass in my backyard, but it’s tiny compared to the big lawn at the old house.”
Angie’s voice rang with contentment. Charlene knew what a difficult time her mother had had after the divorce, and was immeasurably relieved that she appeared to have adjusted so well.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it, Mom.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and adjusted her Ray-Bans a little higher on her nose to better block the late afternoon sun. “What are you doing with all your free time, now that you’re not mowing grass and pulling weeds?”
“I’ve been busy at work,” Angie began before pausing to clear her throat. “And…I’ve met someone,” she blurted.
Surprised, Charlene looked at her mother and was startled to see a hint of color on her cheeks. “That’s great, Mom. Who is he?”
“His name is Lloyd Weber and he’s an architect for a firm here in Amarillo. We met playing bridge. I joined the group about six months ago.”
“So, you’re dating?” Charlene could hardly get her mind around the image of her mother dating. Not that she objected—in fact, she’d urged her mom to get out and about. Angie was fifty-two and loved people and social interaction; Charlene truly believed her mom would be happier in a committed relationship.
“Well, yes—we’ve been dating for a while.” Angie pulled up in front of the condo building and parked. Her expression reflected concern and a certain trepidation when she unlatched her seat belt and half-turned to meet Charlene’s gaze. “I didn’t tell you before, because…ell, because I wasn’t sure whether Lloyd and I were going to become serious. But two weeks ago he moved in with me.”
Charlene stared at her mother, stunned. “You’re living together?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Here in your condo?”
Angie nodded. “His house is being remodeled before he puts it on the market, and he was staying in a bed-and-breakfast. I told him it was silly to spend all that money when we’re together nearly all the time anyway. I convinced him to move in here.”
“Well, um.” Charlene managed to say. “That’s great, Mom. If he makes you happy, I’m delighted.”
“You’re not upset?”
“Mom, of course I’m not upset.” Charlene hugged Angie. “I think it’s great.” She sat back, laughing at the sheer relief on her mother’s face. “If he’s a great guy who’s being good to you and you’re happy, then I’m thrilled for you.”
“I’m very happy, and he is a great guy,” Angie said firmly. “Now come on, let’s get your things inside so you can meet him.”
Charlene followed Angie up the sidewalk, towing a rolling suitcase behind her.
What am I going to do now? The question made her feel totally selfish in light of her mother’s transparent happiness. But Charlene’s practical side told her the situation required a change of plans. She couldn’t stay at the condo with her mother and Lloyd during what was surely the honeymoon stage of their relationship.
She needed a new plan. And fast.
What the hell was I thinking?
Nick strode away from Charlene and didn’t look back. The airport wasn’t crowded and it was a matter of moments before he reached the exit doors and walked outside. He knew it was the worst possible time to meet a woman who interested him. And Charlene London was too pretty to hire as a nanny.
He was going to have enough problems dealing with the sea change about to happen in his life. He didn’t need to move a sexy, gorgeous woman into his house to complicate life even more.
He spotted a uniformed driver holding a sign with his name in big block letters, and changed direction to reach the black Lincoln Town Car. During the drive to Andrew Sanchez’s office, he scanned a file with information about Stan and Amy’s estate the attorney had asked the driver to give him.
Andrew Sanchez was a rotund, balding man in his mid-fifties. Businesslike and efficient, he still exuded an air of concern and sympathy.
“Do you have family or friends available to help with the triplets?” he asked Nick as they concluded their meeting.
“No, but I’m planning to find a nanny. Until then I have a housekeeper, and she’s agreed to work longer hours until I can find someone.”
“You might want to consider two nannies,” Mr. Sanchez commented. “Those three little girls are dynamos.” He grinned with wry affection. “I’m glad you’re a younger man, because just spending an hour with them at their foster home wore me out. You’re going to need all the energy you can muster.”
Nick nodded. He didn’t tell the older man that he had no clue how much energy one little girl required from a caretaker, let alone three of them at once. “You’re continuing to search for Amy’s sister?”
The attorney nodded. “I’ve hired a detective agency to look for her. They told me they can’t give us a time frame, since she’s out of the country, but at least Amy’s e-mail files gave us the name of the mission organization in Africa that employed her. It’s a place to start hunting.” He sighed. “The e-mail records on Amy’s computer indicate her sister stopped communicating a month or so ago. Also that Amy had been trying to contact her but had no success.”
“Any idea why?”
“Lana and her husband apparently resigned their positions with the relief