Daddy's Little Girl (A Homespun Romance) Page 3

  Moses had turned strange after that. While Sara had sat in the waiting room, Moses had told Jason sternly that people like Sara Adams were rare. In all his forty years of practicing law, he'd never met anyone who turned money down. He'd looked worried as he'd said she was a nice young lady and he hoped they were doing the right thing. Reluctantly he'd handed Jason the report one of his investigators had prepared on Sara. Jason hadn't liked the fact Moses had Sara investigated, but his lawyer had pointed out it was good sound common sense to do so these days. Because Kelsey was involved, Jason had forced himself to read the report.

  There had been very little in it that Jason didn't know already. She'd lived all her life with her mother and uncle in Rainbow Valley. Her mother had died five and a half years ago, her uncle a month ago. Sara Adams had worked part time in a preschool for almost five years and she had no boyfriend.

  It had sounded like a pretty lonely existence.

  Jason glanced around at the cardboard cartons in the hall. There were about twenty of them and they were huge. He frowned. "We could take the smallest of these and then have someone get the rest."

  Sara Adams gave him a puzzled look and then followed his glance to the cartons. "These aren't mine," she said quickly.

  "Whose are they?"

  "My uncle's. His lawyer asked me to pack his things."

  More boxes through a wooden arch caught Jason's eyes. He moved towards an elaborate dining room. Six huge boxes covered most of the marble floor.

  "You did all this?"

  His eyes went from the Aubusson rug on the floor to the collector's painting on the wall. Why hadn't packers been hired?

  "Only the small things. Movers are going to get the expensive stuff."

  "Do you have any staff to help you?"

  "There was only Uncle and me here."

  "You shouldn't have had to pack these things, Sara." He caught one of her hands and turned it over. There was a two inch long, open scratch on the back of it.

  She hid her hand behind her back. "It's all right. I didn't mind."

  "Do you have a band-aid?"

  She wet her lips and nodded. "In my bag in the kitchen."

  He followed her there, taking note of more boxes. A slow burn of anger was building within him. Was the lawyer trying to use her?

  He watched her rummage through her handbag. Taking out a band aid, she tore it open.

  "Here, let me." He took the plaster strip from her and placed it over the cut. "That's better."

  "Th...thank you." She looked up at him and Jason was reminded of a bird he'd found when he was about ten. It had been injured in a storm and it had trembled just the way Sara Adams was now. He looked into her eyes. She was a golden-brown owl; one that for some reason was scared of him.

  "Would you l..like some coffee?"

  He let her hand go and stepped away. "That wouldn't be a bad idea."

  Jason stared at the mountains outside the window. "You have a beautiful view."

  "When Uncle Samuel bought the land thirty five years ago, there were very few houses out here. He got a real bargain. Would you like to go and see the view from upstairs, while I get the coffee?"

  Jason nodded. "I'll do that."

  His tour of the house was quick. He didn't waste much time on the view...he was so busy counting boxes. Sixty. Sara Adams had packed sixty boxes in all. The slow burn of anger inside was turning into a blaze.

  He stood in the room that must be hers, because it had an overnight bag on the bed. Jason frowned. It was the smallest room on the floor, and the plainest one in the whole house.

  A cotton rug on the floor, plain white curtains at the windows, a cheap bedspread on the single bed. The other rooms had furniture he'd have liked to own. This one had a chest of drawers that looked as if it was a garage sale reject.

  "I need to get a few things upstairs. I won't be long," Sara said, as he went back into the kitchen. "I'm sorry I had to use a disposable cup for your coffee, but everything else has been packed."

  "That's fine."

  Why had Sara's uncle left the house to charity? She'd lived here all life. Why wasn't the house hers now? As for the lawyer...he'd get the man's name and have Moses talk to the guy.

  The phone rang three times before Jason picked it up. "Hello?"

  "Is Sara Adams there?"

  Jason didn't like the tone of the man's voice at the other end. "May I know who's calling?"

  "This is Sid Greer from the law firm of Greer and Hancock. I'm calling to see if everything's packed and cleaned."

  That explained the folded draperies he'd seen on the beds upstairs and the marks of a steam cleaner on the carpet.

  "I'd also like to know if the garden's been mowed. There's a party interested in seeing the place today and I was wondering if Sara could stay on and show the house?"

  Jason's brows snapped together. He'd seen the extent of the yard from the upstairs windows. At least three quarters of an acre was grass. That wasn't a garden out there...it was a damned park.

  "You'll have to hire new help," he barked into the phone. "My fiancé is leaving with me now...any further communications will have to be made through my lawyer, Moses Judah of Judah and Gillespie. I also expect you to compensate my fiancé for the hours she has put in cleaning this place and packing up in the last few days."

  "Now, look here..." the voice at the other end blustered. "I don't know who you are, but you have no right to be there. I'm ...."

  Jason had had enough. "The name's Jason Graham. I'm CEO and owner of Graham Electronics. I have every right to be here and help my fiancé move out. Locking the front door is the last thing she's going to do for you. My lawyer will be in touch with you about that money you owe her."

  Sara stood frozen in the doorway. Why was Jason Graham defending her?

  "Is that Sid?" she asked, as he hung up. "I'll just call him and see what he wants."

  Jason caught her hand as it reached for the telephone. "No," he said. "You're not doing one thing more here. You heard what I told that guy. He's been using you. Let's go."

  Sara bit her lip. Jason Graham didn't understand. She'd done all this because it cancelled the last of her debt to Uncle Samuel.

  "Sara?"

  She picked up her handbag from the counter and turned away. She could always call Sid later. Right now Jason sounded annoyed, and she didn't want to start their working relationship off on the wrong foot.

  He'd picked up the overnight bag she'd placed by the door. "Where's the rest of your stuff?"

  "I've got it."

  Sara picked up the old cardboard carton near the front door, wishing it wasn't tied with string, wishing she had luggage worth calling that.

  She saw the flare in Jason Graham's eyes and said quickly, "All the suitcases belong to Uncle Samuel."

  And she hadn't felt like taking even one after all she'd done here? She could have at least picked a good strong box, instead of the one she held in his arms. His first thought that it was all an act to impress him, didn't last two seconds. Sara Adams hadn't known he was coming. So angry he couldn't trust himself to speak, Jason turned and marched to the front door.

  Had he made a mistake after all? Sara Adams wasn't going to be much use to him if she couldn't stand up for herself. Dee Dee had claws that were sharpened every day on the metal post of her brain...they'd rip the little golden brown owl to shreds.

  An hour later, Sara looked around the bedroom Mrs. Garcia the housekeeper had shown her to.

  "Mr. Graham said he wants you in the bedroom next to his." The housekeeper had said with a smile.

  Sara felt herself flush. As his fiancé that was probably something quite normal. He'd mentioned his mother-in-law visited often. They'd have to do this right.

  For a moment, she thought of his anger and fear she'd fail him overwhelmed her. He'd driven her here in silence, deposited her box and her overnight bag in the foyer, called for Mrs. Garcia and disappeared with a curt, "I'll see you later."

  One d
ay at a time.

  The worst jobs were best tackled that way. Sara looked out of her window trying to take her mind off her fear. Jason Graham's house was set on a hilltop and had a wonderful view of both the mountains and the tiny cities at their foothills. Part of a master planned community a developer had created in Rainbow Valley, everything about this wonderful, modern house was different than the one she'd been raised in.

  Her bedroom had two bookshelves, a table and a chair, and a dresser. The walk-in closet was big enough to hold the room she'd slept in at Uncle Samuel's.

  She would take wall to wall carpeting and light modern furniture over wooden floors that needed constant polishing and heavy antique furniture that was a pain to dust and keep clean.

  A quick look around showed she'd put everything away neatly. Picking up the cardboard box she'd packed her things in, Sara decided to take it downstairs and ask Mrs. Garcia where she could dispose of it. The housekeeper had mentioned something about Jason taking Kelsey to a friend's house for a visit. Maybe she could help Mrs. Garcia with something till they came back.

  Jason shifted a sleeping Kelsey on his shoulder, stopping dead in the kitchen doorway. Rowena had invited them for lunch and Kelsey was tuckered out from playing with the new Irish Setter mix puppy Rowena had just picked up from the humane shelter. He wanted a soda, but he couldn't get into the kitchen.

  There was a bottom making it's way backwards towards the door. It was too small to belong to Mrs. Garcia, and he'd seen that faded skirt a few hours ago. He was staring at Sara's bottom.

  His eyes narrowed as her movements told him she was mopping his kitchen floor while she hummed under her breath. He carried Kelsey up to her room and put her into her bed, making sure the guard rail was secure and the baby monitor was switched on, before he went downstairs.

  Sara had just reached the doorway. She got to her feet, still humming and stood looking at the kitchen floor.

  "It does look nice," she said to herself.

  He couldn't understand what there was to admire in a kitchen floor. "Do you mind telling me what you're doing?"

  She spun around, her mouth opening in a perfect o. "I...I'm cleaning the kitchen floor."

  The memory of that spotlessly clean house he had picked her up from came to mind. Maybe she was one of those women who had to have something to clean.

  "We have a mop you know", he said conversationally.

  "On your hands and knees is the only way to get a floor cleaned properly," she said.

  "Not for my fiancé, it isn't." Jason didn't want to think of how rough her palm felt, or how many years she might have cleaned floors for. He took the rag from her hand and dropped it into the sink. "Cleaning is Mrs. Garcia's job." He turned to the housekeeper who stood in the doorway. "Isn't it?"

  "She didn't ask me to help." Sara was quick in her defense of the housekeeper. "I just wanted something to do."

  Jason took one of Sara's wrists. "Come with me, Sara. We need to talk."

  He steered her in the direction of the garden. The landscaper had placed a wrought iron bench under a jacaranda in the front yard.

  "Sit," said Jason.

  She sat, moving as far into the corner as she could get.

  "I'm sorry."

  Jason ran a hand over his face. Personally he didn't care what she did. If cleaning floors was her thing, he'd have the carpeting removed and let her have the run of the place. But he had to match his wits against Dee Dee's.

  "Sara, let me tell you something about Kelsey's grandmother. Dee Dee is sharp. If she had seen you doing that floor, she would have known right away that there was something very wrong about this engagement."

  Sara studied him seriously, then said, "You mean, you wouldn't get engaged to a woman who did housework?"

  "Yes."

  "What kind of a woman would you get engaged to in the normal course of things, Mr...I mean, Jason?"

  He stared at her face. "Someone smart and modern. An extrovert. Someone able to hold her own against Dee Dee. Someone fun to be with."

  She'd scored zero again. Sara was beginning to understand why Jason had answered her ad. Claire had substituted words like `upbeat' for her original `diligent' and `attractive', for `conscientious'.

  "I'll try to be the way you want," Sara said on a subdued note. "Claire changed the wording of the ad. I'm really not upbeat, or attractive you know."

  Jason sighed. He knew. Upbeat was out of the question, but attractive wasn't. The golden brown eyes fixed on him, transparent with honesty and earnestness were the most beautiful he had ever seen.

  "If you'd like to get someone else...."

  "No." He was surprised by how quickly the word came out. "No. We just have to get used to each other...that's all. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some work to do."

  Sara watched him walk away. She had a second challenge to tackle before she'd met the first. She had to make sure she didn't let Jason Graham down. Leaning back in the seat she gave some thought to the matter of being his fiancé.

  Jason stood in the marble entryway of his house and listened. Kelsey's loud chuckles indicated his daughter was in the family room. The sound of her happiness brought a smile to his face, easing his tiredness. Sara had barely been here forty eight hours and already he knew he'd never heard the sound of Kelsey's laughter so frequently. That alone justified the bargain he'd made with Sara. She and Kelsey had taken to each other from the word `go'.

  He ran upstairs, yanking at his tie. Shedding his suit quickly he pulled on old jeans and a sweatshirt and headed downstairs, eager to see Kelsey. Opening the door to the family room, he realized Sara and his daughter were too immersed in their game to notice him. Kelsey was hiding behind the couch, while Sara on all fours, was pretending to look for her. Her bottom wiggled high in the air as she pretended to search behind a recliner.

  She picked up cushions and looked under the coffee table, as she said, "Where is Kelsey hiding? I just can't find her."

  Judging from his daughter's giggles, she loved the game. Suddenly Kelsey looked up and saw him, and the next minute she'd run to him. Aware Sara didn't know he was there, Jason picked Kelsey up, kissed her and waited.

  "Where is Kelsey?" With a mock roar, Sara swung around and headed for the door.

  The little girl's giggle told Sara she had moved from behind the couch. She crawled to the door on all fours, growling loudly, encouraged by Kelsey's laughter. The large pair of shoes in the doorway brought her to an abrupt halt.

  "Oops!"

  Her nose was a mere four inches away from his jeans. Sinking back on her heels, Sara put a hand up to straighten her hair. Her gaze slowly trailed up long muscular legs, a solid chest, slipping over the pugnacious jaw and firm lips, till it finally stopped at Jason Graham's amused eyes.

  The color rushed to her face, as he said, "Hello Sara."

  "It's Kelsey's dinner time." Mrs. Garcia, the housekeeper, announced, appearing at Jason's elbow and holding her arms out to the child. Kelsey went to the motherly woman immediately.

  As Kelsey and Mrs. Garcia disappeared into the kitchen, Sara got to her feet. Would Jason consider this un-fiancé like behavior too? Feeling extremely foolish, she tugged her cotton sweater down. Quickly, she replaced cushions and picked up the toys in the room.

  When she turned, he hadn't moved from his spot by the door. That was unusual. Usually he sat with Kelsey while she ate.

  Jason frowned as he intercepted the quick anxious glance Sara gave him. Since their talk in the garden on Sunday, she'd avoided being alone with him. If Kelsey, or Mrs. Garcia weren't around she simply disappeared to her room. When they did exchange a few words, it was clear Sara was uneasy around him. Jason didn't care for the thought he inspired so much fear.

  "I have something for you in my study."

  "F...for me?"

  Jason nodded, standing aside so she had to walk past him to get to the hall. He followed her, noticing the loose cotton pants, and long top she wore hid most of her, as usual.
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br />   Opening the top drawer of his desk, Jason took out a jewelry box, and placed it on the polished surface.

  "See if you like it," he said.

  Sara's breath caught in her throat as she picked up the box and opened it. On a bed of midnight blue velvet nestled the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. The huge marquise diamond set in white gold must have cost the earth. She knew because Claire and she had window shopped frequently since Uncle Samuel's death. Claire loved pretending she was a serious customer, trying jewelry on and finding out how much everything cost.

  Sara looked at Jason. Why was he giving her something so expensive? Everything Uncle Samuel had given her; food, a roof over her head, clothes, demanded too much in return. Obedience, work, undying gratitude.

  "It's too valuable," Sara said stiffly. "I'd be afraid of damaging or losing it."

  "It's what people would expect me to give my future wife," Jason said impatiently. She was the first woman he knew who'd responded to a gift of jewelry with anger. "Try it on."

  It fit her slender finger perfectly. As she looked at him, eyes round with surprise, he said, "This morning I picked up the ring you normally wear, by the kitchen sink. That's how I got your size right. The jeweler polished your ring. Here it is."

  "Thank you." Sara looked at the gold filigree band as if examining it for damage, before she slipped it on her right hand.

  "I couldn't help noticing it has a date inside it." Jason wondered if it was her parents' wedding date.

  "That's the day my father and mother met."

  "What did your father do?" At last they were having some sort of a normal conversation.

  Nervousness welled up in Sara. The terms of the contract they had signed in his lawyer's office had emphasized that they should be completely honest with each other. "He was an engineer in the army. He was killed before I was born, when some sort of bridge he was working on collapsed."

  "I see." Had her uncle taken the place of her father, or had it been hard for her growing up without one? His own long distance relationship with his father had been one of the most difficult things Jason had endured as a child.