Marriage Is Just The Beginning. Betty Sanders Jane

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СКАЧАТЬ porch light, shivering, watching until they pulled out of the drive and started down the road.

      Though it was only a few miles, Cassie was asleep by the time they drove up the hill to the house. The house he had built to try to make Catherine happy. And now lived alone in with his daughter.

      Not that he could blame Catherine for her death; even he could not be so heartless. But before—

      Steely resolve clamped a fist on the thought and squashed the life from it before it was completed. Grant did not have time to wallow in the past. Streetlights washed the other lots, empty except for four feet of snow, before finally capturing his house at the end of the cul de sac, standing alone in the shoulder of the mountain overlooking town.

      The few lights on in the town below seemed to flicker, one or two here, a handful over there. Startled bursts of yellow-white against the swirling snow, which was now slowing, thinning to a mere flurry. Light from the Alyeska Pipeline Marine Terminal reached from across the arm of Prince William Sound. A faint light that stretched upward with long, buttery fingers to brush at the dark shadows of snow-filled mountains slowly materializing as the clouds began to lift.

      The door to the three-car garage slid open. The far stall was filled with snow machines, snow blower and an assortment of skis and garden tools, bicycles, gas grill and lawn chairs, fishing poles and hip-waders that had cracked from age and disuse. The other two stalls were unoccupied until Grant pulled the pickup in.

      They were a reminder the house was empty, as if he needed one. That he alone was responsible for the health and welfare of the tiny girl slumped against his side in sleep. And once again, that he was without a baby-sitter.

      Frustration swept him, so sudden and strong that he wanted to slam a fist against the steering wheel. What did he have to do to find someone who wasn’t more interested in him than his daughter? Instead of abusing the pickup, he pushed the automatic opener and listened to the door grumble to a close. Taking a deep breath, he gathered Cassie in his arms and made his way into the cool, silent house to her room.

      He pulled blankets close up under her chin, then brushed a knuckle against her silken cheek. He had to find another baby-sitter, one who would fill their needs without wanting to occupy his bed. In the meantime, Cassie would keep on going to day care during the day. And he would continue to rely on Sharon for help.

      

      Three days later, Grant learned he needed to go to Southern California for a week. He called on Sharon once again.

      “Of course I will watch her,” she immediately agreed.

      “I’m sorry to have to be a bother—”

      “Don’t be silly, Grant. You needn’t worry about me. It’s Cassie you should be worried about.” She paused, then quietly added, “You’re spending too much time away from her.”

      “I have to go,” he said, and wasn’t sure whom he was trying to convince.

      “I don’t want you to.”

      Cassie’s lower lip was thrust out, trembling, when he told her that evening. Pain squeezed his heart at the sight of tears shimmering in her eyes. “Hey,” he said softly, drawing her to him with a hug. “You’ll get to be with Sharon for a whole week. Plus your buddy Brittany. And I’ll bring you something really special.”

      She brightened a little at that, but still cried when he dropped her off at Sharon’s Sunday evening.

      Guilt clung to him like a dark shroud as he flew from Valdez to Anchorage, then Seattle and on to Irvine. Guilt that once again he was asking Sharon for help, and once more he was leaving Cassie behind.

      Yet his job as construction manager demanded it. This very job allowed him to provide Cassie with anything she needed and then some. He would give his daughter the world if he could, and if that demanded sacrifice, he would sacrifice.

      A fact his father-in-law was quick to point out the following evening.

      “We both know without question that you are trying, that you are doing the best you can for Cassie…under the circumstances.” Hugh leaned into the restaurant table toward Grant, while the murmur of voices filled the air around them.

      “I appreciate that,” Grant answered as a prickle of apprehension raced along his spine. Perhaps it was the way that Hugh reached for Dorothy’s hand, as if to reassure her or maybe gain support. Perhaps it was the way that Dorothy would not meet Grant’s gaze, but instead nervously toyed with the linen napkin. Or maybe it was the unbidden memory of how they had pushed him away during Catherine’s illness. Whatever, Grant suddenly wished he hadn’t told them he was going to be in town for business. He should have dissuaded them from driving up from San Diego to meet him for dinner.

      The conversation died, and silence held sway while the waiter cleared their dinner dishes and poured coffee. Then they had to talk, had to do something other than sit mutely, separated by far more than just a table.

      Hugh drained his wineglass, cleared his throat. Then he squared his thin shoulders and met Grant’s gaze. “We were wondering if…thinking that maybe Cassie would be better off with us.”

      Grant arched a brow, choosing his words with care. “I appreciate the offer, but I think it’s best that she stay home for a while, until we get better adjusted to the situation. Maybe this spring she can come and spend a few days.”

      “And how many baby-sitters will you have gone through by then? How many business trips?” Red slowly climbed Hugh’s neck.

      Grant stiffened. “I can’t—”

      “Son, we aren’t suggesting that you don’t love Cassie. We aren’t suggesting she come for a visit, either.”

      He said the words so quietly that for a minute, Grant thought he’d heard wrong. Until Hugh continued.

      “I think we can offer her a more stable home than you seem able to do.”

      Shock washed through Grant with a coldness that left him speechless. He could only stare at his father-in-law, and feel every ounce of blood drain from his face.

      Then anger swept him, so overwhelming he gripped the edge of the table to force himself not to physically strike the man who sat before him. A man he had admired and thought of as being the father Grant had lost to a fishing vessel accident when he was a child. The man who had the nerve to suggest, for even a minute, that he give up Cassie.

      He should have expected something like this after the way they’d acted while Catherine was ill, but he hadn’t. He didn’t dare release his hold on the table while he fought to remain silent, to remain seated until he had a semblance of control over the rage roaring through his veins.

      Finally, he swallowed hard, then slowly stood until he towered above Hugh and Dorothy. He placed both hands flat on the tabletop and leaned slightly toward them. “Icicles will grow in Hell before anyone takes Cassie from me,” he said quietly.

      He turned and walked away without a backward glance.

      

      By the end of the week, the bank lobby was a hub of activity. Customers rushed in to take care of last-minute business just prior to closing. Phones rang; voices rose in a murmur, punctuated by a shouted greeting or burst of laughter.

      Sharon СКАЧАТЬ