Doctor's Orders. Sharon Vita De

Jasper’s voice trailed off as he led Sofie out of the foyer. Cassie couldn’t help it, she started to laugh.

      “I’m sorry,” she said to Beau, trying to contain herself. “But he’s absolutely…adorable.” Still laughing, she shook her head. “And totally charming. He’s just wonderful.”

      “Yeah, he is,” Beau said as he glanced after his uncle. “The best thing that ever happened to me,” he added softly, and Cassie was surprised by the genuine emotion in his voice.

      “He raised you, didn’t he?” she asked gently, remembering what he’d said this afternoon about being teased, and Beau nodded.

      “I was five when my parents were killed in a car accident on the way home from a scientific seminar. All I knew was that my parents went away for the weekend and never came back.”

      “I’m so sorry,” Cassie said, her heart aching for him. She could still hear the shock and pain of the enormous loss somewhere in the deep timbre of his voice. Unconsciously, she reached out and laid a hand on his arm, instinctively wanting to comfort. She couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to have been orphaned at such a young age.

      “My uncle Jasper was my father’s only brother, and the brilliant eccentric in the family, according to my dad, who was no slouch in either department himself. I’d never met Uncle Jasper, at least not that I remembered.” He laughed suddenly, dragging a hand through his black hair. “So here I was, sitting at the bottom of the steps in this big old house—my parents’ house,” he clarified, glancing around the familiar foyer. “Which wasn’t much different from this place. I’m all alone in the world, and scared out of my mind when the front door bursts open and this ball of Irish energy comes bounding in. I could only stare at him with my mouth open,” he recalled, humor glinting in his eyes. “He had on a shirt that was buttoned crookedly and hanging out of pants which weren’t zipped, but were held up by some kind of metal chain he’d somehow gotten tangled and knotted around him. He had on two pairs of glasses, one pair on his eyes, one pair resting on top of his head, and a pair of mismatched shoes.” Beau chuckled. “Actually, it was a slipper and a shoe. He usually gets distracted halfway through getting dressed so that’s why he’s only half-dressed most of the time. Either Shorty or I usually catch up to him to fix him up before he goes out in public, but I didn’t know that then. Then, I was just a scared, bewildered five-year-old,” he admitted quietly. “Especially when the first words out of Uncle Jasper’s mouth were ‘Can you cook, laddie?’” He did a fantastic imitation of his uncle’s heavy Irish brogue and Cassie covered her mouth to smother a chuckle, visualizing the picture.

      “And what did you say?”

      Tongue in cheek, he shook his head. “The truth. I said very solemnly, ‘I’m sorry, sir, but I’m only five years old.’”

      Cassie’s tender heart almost melted. She could almost see him, she realized. The small, scared vulnerable little boy, all alone in the world, not knowing what was to become of him, facing Uncle Jasper for the first time.

      She thought of her own daughter at that age, how totally vulnerable she’d been, and Cassie’s heart ached a little more for him.

      “Uncle Jasper just nodded, then he took one good long look at me, went down on his knee so we were eye level, opened his arms and said, ‘Aye laddie, I’m sorry this happened to us, but I’ve been waiting my whole life for you. ’ One single tear slowly ran down his face and I knew then Uncle Jasper was probably just as scared as I was. He just hugged me tight and said, ‘Me and Shorty, we came to take you home, laddie.’” Beau’s voice had dropped, but now he chuckled again, then shook his head. “And I knew everything was going to be okay,” he said with a careless shrug that she knew hid a well of emotion. “We’ve been together and a family ever since.”

      “That’s a wonderful story,” she said quietly, blinking the mist from her eyes. “Did you ever learn to cook?” she asked, making him chuckle again.

      “Nope, can’t even boil eggs,” Beau said with a grin, closing the distance between them to help her off with her coat. He leaned close until his breath warmed the back of her neck, making her vividly aware of the pulsing ache of yearning slowly spreading its hot fingers through her belly. Cassie had to swallow to dispel some of her nervousness, smothering the wave of awareness that was making every female nerve ending stand at attention.

      She was supposed to be immune to this type of man, she reminded herself firmly.

      “Cassie,” he whispered close to her ear. “I want you to know I feel exactly the same way about your mother and your aunt as you do about Uncle Jasper,” he said, looping her coat over his arm and stepping back from her. “They’re wonderful as far as I’m concerned.”

      “Well, thank you, but I’m going to remind you of that the next time mama or Aunt Louella rushes into your office and tells you to do some outrageous thing like turn all your faucets on so that your pipes don’t freeze when it’s not even cold out.”

      Beau chuckled. “Sounds like you’ve had plenty of experience with the outrageous?”

      “Living with Mama and Aunt Louella was always one outrageous adventure after another,” she admitted. “But I adore both of them and wouldn’t have it any other way.”

      He chuckled again, then grew sober, his gaze finding hers and sending a fluttering straight through to her timid heart. “I’m glad you made it,” he said softly. “It’s a miserable night.”

      She wanted to glance away, to break contact with those gorgeous blue eyes, but mentally scolded herself for being a coward.

      He was just a man, for goodness sake. She’d dealt with hundreds of men in her life, probably thousands. There was certainly no reason to get all flustered every time this one looked at her.

      Still, there was something very different about this man that made her very aware of her own feelings and emotions. It was just a tad unnerving since she truly thought herself immune to any kind of man.

      She rubbed her hands together and glanced back at the windows on either side of the large front door, wanting to break the connection between them.

      “It is getting bad out,” she admitted with a rueful smile. “I could barely see driving here because the snow’s coming down so hard. And I don’t even want to think about having to drive home in it.”

      “Don’t worry about it,” he said, taking her arm and leading her out of the foyer. “I’ve got a heavy four-wheel-drive vehicle so I can make house calls no matter what the weather. If it gets much worse I’ll drive you and Sofie home, and Shorty can return your car in the morning. Deal?”

      She looked into his eyes and had to remind herself she was merely here to help her daughter. She was doing this for Sofie. There was nothing between them. Nothing personal at all, she reminded herself. So all these feelings coursing through her, confusing her, alarming her, were to be ignored.

      “Deal,” she agreed reluctantly, making him smile.

      “When I picked Sofie up from your mother’s, we had a chance to chat,” he said with a mysterious smile, glancing down at her as he led the way through the foyer. “And before I picked up Sofie, I made a couple of other stops at a couple of other first graders’ house’s as well,” he said with a knowing lift of his brow. “Seems there is a bit of disruption going on with two of the boys. One’s parents are separating—”

      “Oh, I’m sorry,” Cassie said softly.

      “And the other’s grandmother recently passed away very suddenly. They were apparently very close so the boy’s quite traumatized by the loss.”

      “Oh, Beau, the poor thing,” Cassie said, her heart softening toward the boys whom just this afternoon she wanted to thrash. “So they’re both having some personal problems of their own. I guess their behavior is understandable under the circumstances.”

      “Understandable, yes,