A Daughter's Trust / For the Love of Family: A Daughter's Trust / For the Love of Family. Kathleen O'Brien

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СКАЧАТЬ lawyer’s office more like an expectant father than a grieving son.

      “Mom said he’s been chomping at the bit all weekend,” Belle whispered to Sue as the two stood together on Tuesday morning across from the reception counter, much more casually dressed, in good pants and blouses, in a quiet corner of the high-rise entryway. They were sharing a cup of bad coffee neither of them wanted while they waited to be called to the first-floor office. Sue held the cup while Belle gently bounced Camden up and down, soothing the little guy back to sleep.

      Baby Carrie was good for another hour, snoozing in the pack on Sue’s back.

      Jenny and Luke had not yet arrived from their hotel a short walk down the street.

      “Thank goodness Stan Wilson’s not here yet,” Sue whispered back when Sam stopped to say something to his wife, who was sitting on a chair in the opposite corner, reading a magazine. “At least Mom and Dad won’t be blamed for making your dad wait.”

      Stan Wilson had been handling Grandma’s affairs for only a couple of years. Their longtime attorney, Mitch Taylor, had retired shortly after Grandpa’s death.

      Sue wondered if Mr. Wilson had met Sam Carson yet.

      “Dad makes me sick,” Belle said. “It’s not like he needs any of Grandma’s money.”

      “Maybe he’ll relax a bit when he’s officially God Carson,” Sue said, then bit her tongue. After a long talk with her parents Friday night at their hotel—where she’d opted to sleep over rather than have them drive all the way out to her place—she was supposed to try her best to love her uncle. Her mother had always insisted that Sam loved all of them. He just had…issues.

      Well, so did the rest of them.

      Of course, it was a little easier for Jenny to be understanding these days. She had Luke as a buffer. And they lived in Florida. Out of Sam’s reach.

      Sam didn’t mess with Sue, either, but she sure hated to see how much grief he gave Belle.

      And Emily.

      Sue’s phone vibrated against her hip. Juggling the coffee in one hand and the stuffed diaper bag on the opposite shoulder, she checked to see who was calling.

      In her business, she never knew. The state might have someone who wanted to see one of her charges. More importantly, they could have an emergency and need someone to take a baby immediately.

      Which was why she had her home phone calls forwarded to her cell anytime she was away.

      She didn’t recognize the number.

      But because she didn’t want to get stuck making small talk with her uncle, who was heading toward Belle, Sue listened to the message.

      She didn’t know any Rick Kraynick, assistant superintendent of Livingston schools.

      Had never heard of him.

      He wasn’t from child services…

      The revolving door from the outside spun around. From behind the pillar practically blocking her from the cold air, Sue could make out two people, not her parents. Both were tall. And broad. And…

      “Joe?” she called out, sliding her phone back into its case. She walked over, taking in the man at her boss’s side. He was older, in his fifties, Sue would guess. Gray hair. With eyes that, while not the same dark blue as Joe’s, seemed equally impenetrable. Another strong, silent type?

      “What are you doing here?” she asked. Weird that he’d show up on the very morning she was waiting to hear Grandma Sarah’s last requests.

      “Business,” Joe said, guiding her away from the other man without any acknowledgment whatsoever. As though he wanted to make sure they didn’t meet. “A nine o’clock appointment. How about you?”

      “Me, too,” she said, feeling awkward standing talking to him with a baby on her back. Joe didn’t seem to notice. “Nine o’clock.”

      Even after several years of working for him, of being peripheral acquaintances, she still had trouble with the new Joe. She missed her friend. More this week than usual. “Grandma’s will is going to be read.”

      He frowned. “I’m here for a will, too.”

      “Oh!” Sue’s hand found its way to his arm before she could worry if she’d offend her employer. “I’m sorry,” she told him. “Who died?”

      “It’s not for me.” Joe glanced back to the man who’d come in with him. Dressed in a beige trench coat, with shoulders hunched up to his ears, the older gentleman had spoken to the receptionist and was standing alone in the foyer, apparently in a world of his own. “I’m just here with him.”

      “Who is he?” she asked. But she thought she knew. The eyes might be different colors, but there was something so…alike…

      “My father.”

      The infamous Adam Fraser. “He’s a lot more muscular looking than I pictured him,” she said, trying not to stare. There’d been a time when she’d wanted five minutes alone in a room with that man.

      A time when she’d thought about writing to him, begging him to come home to his son.

      A time when she’d hated him for all the pain and rejection he’d put Joe through.

      “Comes from years on a fishing boat,” Joe said drily. He had his back to the man. “Who’s that?” he asked, nodding to her right.

      Sue turned. Smiled at her cousin’s curious stare. Sam had moved on. “Belle.”

      “Your cousin. She’s a couple of years younger than you.”

      He’d remembered. “Right.”

      “Is the baby hers?” Camden was sleeping, snuggled against Belle’s chest as though he belonged there.

      Infants had an uncanny ability to adapt.

      Especially ones who’d been passed from one pair of arms to another since taking their first breath.

      “No.” Sue shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Belle’s not married. That’s Camden. He’s mine, too.”

      With one last pointed look, Belle moved over to join her mother. Uncle Sam had disappeared. Probably to go check on Stan Wilson himself since the receptionist hadn’t yet produced him. Had he really been waiting for his mother to die so he could take over the Carson dynasty?

      A dynasty of six.

      “She’s cute.”

      Joe’s words brought Sue back to the slight chill of the high-ceilinged foyer. She glanced over at Belle again, and then realized Joe was staring at the baby on her back.

      “That she is,” she said, remembering the changing table that morning. She’d rubbed her face against the baby’s belly and Carrie had chortled out loud. The sound, one she’d heard countless times from more than fifteen babies over the past four years, had calmed her. Reminding her that everything СКАЧАТЬ