Wonders Of The Heart. Ruth Scofield

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      “You said nothing before I left about not liking Mrs. Hinkle. Why didn’t you inform me? Talk to me? And merely not liking her isn’t enough reason to take such drastic action.”

      “I tried to talk to you once, but…” Honor turned away to fill an enameled tea kettle he’d never seen with bottled water, before setting it on a burner. “Well, you were so busy, and, anyway, I didn’t know about Mrs. Hinkle until after you left.”

      The mild statement, carrying a good degree of guilt, hit him straight between the eyes. He hadn’t heard Honor because he’d been too busy to listen to her teenage twaddle.

      He hid his sense of frustration, and mentally chided himself. He might not have been eager to take Honor Suzanne into his life, but he’d had no other choice when she’d become so depressed after their father died, only two years after Honor’s mother had passed away. Now he was all she had, her only living relative.

      He ran a hand against his jaw and turned away to shed his jacket. True, he’d been too involved in getting his last-minute arrangements in place for an extended absence to interview many candidates. It all had happened at once; Honor coming to live with him as he was preparing for a working trip through several European countries.

      “Tell me why you didn’t like Mrs. Hinkle,” he said, pulling out one of two kitchen chairs at the tiny table meant for one. “She came well recommended by the agency. Couldn’t you have lived with your dislike until I got home?”

      “No, I couldn’t. She was impossible. And I don’t know why they recommended her,” she muttered. “She steals.”

      “Steals?” He frowned, silently questioning how such a woman could have gotten past the agency screening. “Are you sure? Could you have misinterpreted something you saw?”

      “No, I didn’t, Chad.”

      She thrust out her small chin, reminding him of her mother, Sandra. He hadn’t liked Sandra.

      “I saw her going through your desk,” Honor insisted.

      “I left my desk double-locked.” Uneasiness began to set in. He didn’t keep a lot of important papers in his home office unless he was working there, but he still didn’t like the idea of anything being disturbed. He did keep a list of his private bank numbers and associated interactions in a notebook in the bottom drawer, but it would have to be an experienced thief to take advantage of the coded knowledge.

      He’d check his desk contents before going to bed, but said now, “Well, there isn’t anything of movable cash value in there, anyway. And I left the household funds in a special account. Mrs. Hinkle only had to charge anything else you needed.”

      “Well, she pried the desk open,” Honor insisted. She reached for a pig-faced cookie jar, half-filled, which he’d never seen. “In fact, you can see scratches on the brass key holes, if you look closely.”

      Frowning, he rubbed the base of his neck where a headache was forming. The problem was more serious than he’d thought. “What did you do? Why didn’t you call me?”

      “I didn’t think I should bother you with it, Chad. You said you wouldn’t have time to keep track of what’s going on at home. Uncle Walter and Mr. Lester took care of it.”

      Walter Peebles, his father’s friend and accountant, and Lester Brown, their building super. He’d have a long talk with Lester first thing in the morning. Right before he called the agency.

      He’d reach Walter before he went to bed.

      “Didn’t want to be bothered?” Guilt nearly choked him now; he had said it. He’d failed royally as a brother. “Honor, I merely meant I wouldn’t have time for, um—uh-oh, stuff it. I’d have taken time to deal with this problem, whatever it was.”

      He took a cookie from the plate Honor set on the table. Home-baked oatmeal, a longtime favorite.

      “But you said you were really, really busy on this trip and for me not to expect a lot of communication from you since you’d be moving around a lot,” Honor persisted, half-accusing.

      She poured boiling water into an old, crackled ceramic teapot and covered it with a bright red cover. The teapot was another item he didn’t remember.

      “You couldn’t come home till your business was finished, that’s what you said.”

      She set out three china cups; at last, something he recognized. Vaguely. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d entertained at home, but he thought those to be the ones his girlfriend of two years ago had purchased for him.

      Honor set out a small jar of honey, and spoons. “So I decided to handle it myself. And I had Dana’s help.”

      “Who’s Dana?”

      “Dana Bates. My minister’s wife. She knows about these things, Chad, and she helped me find Spring.”

      “Hmmm… A minister and his wife.” He rubbed his jaw, then ran his hand against the back of his head, while visions of smug, do-gooding people marched through his thoughts. That’s all he needed—interference from another direction. He’d had enough of that from well-meaning old family friends after his father died, leaving his estate in a mess.

      He probably should put this off until he’d had some sleep; after all, Honor was safe and sound, and he couldn’t pursue an investigation on anything stolen until morning. But…he wouldn’t.

      “All right.” He let his breath out on a long-suffering note. “Tell me about Spring. Last name. Who is she? Where is she from? Where did you find her? What are her references? And how old is she?”

      Chapter Two

      “My name is Spring Eve Barbour, and I do assure you, Mr. Alexander, I’m a very reputable person.”

      Spring stood in the kitchen doorway, addressing Chad formally, letting him in on her awareness of the seriousness of his questions. She didn’t feel at all nervous, trusting in Uncle William’s dictates to always deal with the truth, but she thought if she’d had anything to hide, Chad’s narrowed stare might unnerve her.

      “I’ll be glad to trot out my references if you want to see them, but Dana will verify that she checked my credibility and found that I am who I am and all that stuff before Honor and I struck our bargain.”

      Spring moved into the small kitchen on this last. She took into account the deep lines fanning Chad’s eyes and the taut skin across his cheekbones, and wondered if he’d stay awake long enough to eat anything even if she prepared it.

      Opening the refrigerator door, she stared at the contents to determine what might be the quickest thing to serve. He’d want something hot, she thought, but a man that seriously tired also needed something reasonably balanced on his stomach before he went to bed.

      “How about scrambled eggs and ham?” She turned to look at him over her shoulder as she asked. He’d removed his jacket and tie, and unbuttoned his shirt a few buttons down. His head rested against the wall, causing his eyes to go half-mast, the blue irises deepening to a dark stirring.

      They caused a stirring in her middle, too. Something that spread throughout her like СКАЧАТЬ