Wonders Of The Heart. Ruth Scofield

from this complex.”

      “That’s a shame. We could—”

      “Whatever you wish, Spring, it won’t happen here.”

      Spring sighed. “All right.”

      “Now we need to come to a better agreement over your terms of employment.”

      “My terms of employment?”

      “Yes. If you are to remain in this apartment as housekeeper and Honor’s…uh, helper companion, we have to have a firm understanding about what to expect from each other, don’t you agree?”

      Spring had thought she and Honor were more friends than housekeeper and charge. At home, she and Autumn had shared household chores, although she’d been the shopper for household goods and groceries. It seemed only a little different between her and Honor—except she’d been teaching Honor to cook and they were learning New York ways together. But she hadn’t felt like an employee.

      Still, she had free rent here, and in an excellent neighborhood. She loved Honor, and they had a growing bond in the excursions they did together, especially the Bible studies on Sunday evenings at the church. They were opening her mind as nothing else ever had. The church was only a few blocks away, and easy to reach. She liked her situation here.

      How much could possibly change by Chad being at home, too? He’d merely be another person to rotate a schedule around, to prepare a meal for. And if she and Autumn could accommodate the finicky eating habits of Uncle William and his need for a spotless house, she supposed she could meet Chad’s requirements. Would being tagged a “housekeeper” really make that much difference?

      “Well…”

      “Yes?”

      “Honor and I share the household chores now, plus the shopping and cooking. I usually run any other errands during the day, but I have used much of the time Honor is in school to make my rounds of the design houses and such. I wouldn’t want to lose that freedom.”

      “Mmm… As I say, we’ll have to see how all that works out, won’t we? Now, you will be compensated for your time. Would the salary I offered Mrs. Hinkle be sufficient?”

      Spring gasped. “More than enough. I’m not sure…”

      “But without the need to earn extra money—” he said it as though it left a sour taste in his mouth “—you’ll have more time to take care of the apartment, now doesn’t that make sense?”

      “Yes, of course, but I’d keep the apartment clean regardless, you see. And as I’ve said, Honor and I share the chores.” She grinned and tossed out, “She actually likes dusting.”

      He returned her glance with one of skepticism, then firmed his mouth.

      “You’d better accept what I offer, Spring, or move on. I’m inclined to be generous in view of your picking up after the mess left by Mrs. Hinkle. And your very kind, extended involvement with Honor Suzanne’s needs. Walter speaks highly of your efforts.”

      “That’s nice of Mr. Peebles to say. But Honor and I are friends, Mr. Alexander.” She couldn’t prevent her hurt from showing, though she made a valiant effort to speak evenly. “Whatever I’ve done for Honor, I did from that starting point. I don’t need payment for it.”

      “I didn’t intend an insult…” He ran a hand through his already tousled hair. “Boy, I’m tired. What I mean to say is, you stepped into a sticky situation, from what Walter tells me, and I recognize—”

      “Let’s just call it even for now, Mr. Alexander.”

      “All right. For now. But if we’re to share the apartment on, um, these terms, you must call me Chad.”

      “Yes, that makes sense. And you are exactly right, Chad. We must see how we all get along before we reach a permanent agreement,” she added and stood. “You can put your money into a household account for Honor and me to draw on, and I’ll keep a running account so that you’ll know where it’s being spent. Then I’ll take, say a couple or three morning hours a week for myself, and you won’t even miss me. Honor and I can stay on our routine, and you can let us know when you’ll be home for dinner. So how about a month’s trial for all of us?”

      Five minutes later, Chad stood in his bedroom, staring at the neatly made bed as he ran a hand against his unshaven jaw, wondering just what it was he’d been caught up in. Just how on God’s green earth had he lost control of his personal living situation? Of his own apartment?

      Chapter Four

      From his office the following morning, Chad contacted a first-class private investigator. Walter Peebles had suggested he take the matter to John Allen, of Allen and Parker, a discreet firm his colleagues had used a time or two.

      “I don’t have an investigator in Kansas City, so it will take a day or two to find someone. Or else send a man out there to do a proper job.” John’s deep voice rumbled as he spoke. “Even with the Internet, faxes and phones, it’s better to do personal background checks, to the depth you’re wanting, in the geographical location where a person lives.”

      “Fine. That’s fine,” Chad muttered. “Just get it done as fast as possible. I don’t want any delays that can be avoided. This young woman is already living in my home.”

      “I’ll have someone on it no later than this afternoon, Mr. Alexander,” John soothed. “Before we’re through, we’ll know the girl’s dress size, her favorite music, food and color, and how many boyfriends she had in the fourth grade. If there’s anything in her background that doesn’t spell squeaky clean, we’ll find it.”

      “I’ll wait for your call.” Chad hung up and rested against his high-backed chair, his hands laced behind his head. His thick, overgrown hair brushed over his hands, and the thought passed through his mind to get it cut this morning. If he could make the time.

      Swiveling, he stared out of the twenty-fourth floor window at New York’s skyline. He’d been impressed with his view from the moment he moved into this space, and proud to be a part of New York’s unique society.

      Though oddly, he hadn’t missed this sight while in Europe nearly as much as anticipated, he thought now, and it had no power to soothe him this morning. He still felt unsettled.

      Flexing his tight shoulder muscles, he pushed that thought aside. Analyzing his reactions could wait. He’d come home to more pressing matters. He’d had to take care of his own personal needs before he began on his workday.

      He hadn’t stopped thinking about Spring, or his newly challenged home situation, all morning.

      Rising earlier than normal, he’d discovered he hadn’t been early enough to avoid signs of his new housekeeper. A full pot of freshly ground and steaming coffee waited for him in the kitchen at six-thirty. The New York Times, untouched and pristine, lay on the tiny table. Alongside the paper were two boxes of cereal, both sugarless, and a bowl, spoon and a banana lay upon a cherry-red place mat.

      He saw nothing of Spring. That she’d anticipated his breakfast needs startled and annoyed him at the same time. It all smacked of a too-perfect picture, and his suspicions notched even higher. But if he’d hoped to pretend his life was still his own, that breakfast layout had put it to a speedy end.

      He’d taken his coffee and ignored the banana and cereal.

      His reverie tumbled when Anne Martin, his personal assistant, came bustling in and set a cup of coffee, strong and black, beside his hand. He’d come into the office early to get a jump start on his day before most of the staff came in, and a good piece of that had flown out the window. Irritated with himself for dawdling, he twirled back to face his desk. Work waited.

      “Welcome back, Chad. Glad you’re home early. The office wasn’t the same without you,” Anne told him brightly. Anne, a well-groomed brunette in her thirties, tossed him a concerned glance.

      “Thanks.”