Blue Clouds (22 page)

“Possible, maybe. Probable, no. Besides, if it took half a box to make Durwood ill, what could a few pieces do for a man as big as Seth?”

“Eat his stomach out,” Pippa answered matter-of-factly.

She'd had time to think about it and hadn't liked her thoughts at all. “Durwood was saved precisely because he ate too many and spewed it all back up. Seth would have eaten just enough to keep them down and let them go to work.”

“You're certifiable, I swear you are.” Meg got up and rinsed out her cup. “But because I love you, I'll humor you. Let me call George and see what he did with the stuff. And then,” she added firmly, “we'll form a committee.''

***

“The candy was probably an early birthday present. I wish you would drop the subject and tell me what you think of the last chapter.”

Slapping on suntan lotion, Seth watched Chad and Mikey with the therapist at the other end of the pool. Pippa hadn't even asked his permission to bring Mikey. She'd just appeared with him after her trip into town. Seth clung to his irritation, but Chad was having such a good time, he couldn't remember why he was irritated. Maybe it was that cough Chad had developed overnight. But Pippa had told him it could be an allergy.

 
“I don't like books where the hero walks into the sunset and leaves the heroine behind.”

Pippa's reply brought Seth's wandering attention back to the subject of his last chapter.

He could almost swear she sounded disgruntled. Amazed that she'd even read the material, he tried to maintain his attitude of disinterest. “I don't write Harlequins,” he answered with what he hoped was the proper disdain.

“You couldn't,” she scoffed. “It takes a heart and soul to write romance, and you haven't got them. You just need a sick mind.”

“Listen to the brilliant literary critic!” Refusing to listen to any more of this nonsense, Seth dived into the water to hide his scowl. Miss MacGregor had always given his writing her complete and enthusiastic support. He was a bestseller, damn it. Who did Pippa think she was to criticize him?

But unease at her words tugged at his thoughts. Why shouldn't the hero “walk off into the sunset,” as she put it? That's what heroes did. They didn't hang around waiting for some female who would more likely stab the poor slob in the back.

Even as his mind conjured that vicious thought, Seth recognized its origins. Cursing to himself, he dove down and skimmed the bottom of the pool. Emerging from the water between the two boys, he grabbed one in each arm, shoved off from the side of the pool with his feet, and swept them to the other side of the shallow depths with a few quick kicks.

The kids squealed and hollered, excited by the new game. Rather pleased that he'd found a way of playing with his son that didn't involve books, Seth tried to ignore his redheaded assistant lapping leisurely in the other end of the pool. “Tried” being the operative word. He knew the instant she pulled herself from the pool to answer the cordless.

She hung up the phone and wandered over to sit on the edge of the pool. Brave in their new abilities, the boys shouted and paddled the few strokes to her side, ducking their heads under the water as Seth had done and pulling themselves up by grabbing her legs.

Pippa obligingly squealed and played the hapless female caught by monster squid. The corner of Seth's mouth crooked at the sight. Maybe she had it halfway right. Giant gophers weren't the real dangers in this world. Giant gophers and squid were the stuff of fantasy. People were the really scary forces of the universe. Maybe his damned hero rode off into the sunset because he was scared to death of the heroine.

His fingers suddenly itched for his pen. He didn't write wimpy heroes. Maybe they had more brains than brawn, but they didn't lack courage. Pippa was right. His hero needed to face his inner demons and stand up to the heroine.

He didn't know what the hell would happen after that, but that was half the fun of writing. He hadn't been this excited by a scene in years. He could see sparks literally flying off the page.

He pulled himself out of the water without thinking, aiming for his office and a pen. Pippa's cheerful call stopped him in his tracks.

“We're having a committee meeting this evening to discuss plans for the gym. Want to go?”

Now he knew what the hero would do when he confronted the heroine. He would kill her. She probably crossbred the man-eating gopher in the first place.

“No, I don't want to go to a committee meeting,” Seth enunciated carefully. “I would be quite content to never see another person in that town.” He should have amended with “except Mikey,” but he didn't.

“It's your loss,” she replied with the same cheer. “Your mother says she'll go.”

His mother. Oh, God, in one of her moods she was quite capable of promising Mikey's family the Taj Mahal and bashing a vase over the banker's head.

Not that bashing a vase over Taylor Morgan's head wasn't a good idea, but the police and the lawsuit that would follow were more hassle than he could tolerate.

“I don't think that's such a smart move.” He actually clenched his teeth as he said that. How did she manage to drive him so far off the tracks all the time? A disabled roller coaster couldn't be worse.

“No?” she asked with such wide-eyed innocence, he could see right through her ploy. Damn, but the little witch was trying to manipulate him!

Seth scowled and lowered his voice as the boys climbed out of the pool at the end of their lesson. Was he imagining it, or was Chad's cough a little worse? Trying not to be the overprotective father, he responded to Pippa's taunt. “And if you think I'll go with her to keep her out of trouble, you thought wrong. This is
your
idea.
You
deal with it.”

He grabbed his towel and stalked off toward the cabana.

Grinning, Pippa watched him stride away. She loved pushing his buttons. He was just so damned easy, not at all like those polished sorts who would stab a person in the back while smiling and shaking hands. Now, if she could just make Seth Wyatt smile and laugh as easily as she made him scowl and mutter, she'd have accomplished something.

***

“Surely Seth keeps cigarettes around here somewhere,” Lillian complained. “I need something to relax my nerves before that terrible drive down the mountain.”

“We'll stop in town before we come back,” Pippa promised absently, searching through her stack of papers to make certain she had everything. “Do you have your checkbook? There's nothing like a flash of money to keep a committee in line.”

Sighing with resignation, Lillian checked the foyer mirror, patted her hair, and nodded confidently. “I know how to wield a checkbook. That's what I do best.”

“I thought you might. Let's go, then.” Picking up her keys, Pippa headed out the door.

“Surely we're taking the Mercedes,” Lillian called in dismay. “We're not going down that road in that horrible little car of yours?”

“Miss MacGregor's, actually,” Pippa said cheerfully. “My car is back home in Kentucky.” What was left of it. Reports from her neighbors had said the poor Escort had been smashed into junk metal the night before Billy left town. They'd called the police but didn't think anything had come of it. Maybe he'd worked it all out of his system and would leave her alone now.

Fat chance. She was staying right here until someone nailed Billy to a wall. She had no intention of becoming another domestic violence statistic.

Outside, she discovered Doug leaning against the Mercedes, massive arms crossed as he waited for them. Pippa raised her eyebrows in question and Doug shrugged.

“His Lord and Master says I'm to keep an eye on you.” His gaze traveled skeptically to Lillian, indicating the real source of Seth's concern.

“Did His Lord and Master ever consider you might have a life of your own?” Pippa asked dryly as she contemplated rebelling.

“He knows I ain't got one.” Doug opened the door. “Get in and don't give me no lip. I'm no pushover like some I could name.”

“You lack respect, sir,” Lillian protested, catching this last as she reached the car. “I shall report you to my son.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Keeping a stoic expression, he gestured for her to enter. After she did, he winked at Pippa. “If I'm lucky, he'll fire me,” he murmured as he handed her in.

“I'll hire you,” Pippa declared as he climbed into the driver's seat. “Do you think he'll let me keep you in the garage?”

Doug chuckled as he turned on the ignition, but respectful of his employer's mother, he didn't offer the reply her facetiousness deserved. Sitting back in the luxurious leather seats, Pippa smiled to herself. Whether he liked it or not, Seth had one friend. How could she give him others? If she meddled enough, maybe she wouldn't ever have to leave this haven.

Of course she would have to leave this haven. Hiding out here with no friends or family or social life to speak of was not only unhealthy, but temporary. She had known that when she had taken the job. Miss MacGregor would return and handle the assistant's position quite efficiently. By that time, Chad would have his therapist and the gym and maybe even his grandmother to rely on. She would have done her duty. She would have to move on.

Diverting her thoughts, Pippa chattered about the night's meeting, relaxing Lillian's tense posture as she related the exploits of Meg and George and a few of their friends. Apparently Lillian didn't have a much better handle on people than her son did, but she did seem to have an unerring grasp of money when they reached that topic. She knew as much about getting her hands on it as she did about spending it.

As Lillian chatted, Pippa listened with half an ear. Chad hadn't been running a fever, but his cough was worse. Kept inside as much as he was, he could quite possibly have just developed an allergy to pollen. She wondered if she should call off the swimming lessons for a day or two. Chad would have a fit. She'd have to check his breathing when she returned.

As Pippa entered Meg's well-worn living room with Doug and Lillian in tow, the small group gathered there gaped in surprise. Doug had wanted to stay in the car, but Pippa had refused to let him wait in the heat. At least George had stuck a window air conditioner in the front room so they wouldn't swelter.

After the introductions were made, Doug tried to shrink his massive frame into a corner while Lillian sat her relatively diminutive one on center stage. Pippa simply sat back and enjoyed the circus, memorizing particularly choice moments for Seth's delectation in the morning.

Mikey sneaked in to sit in Doug's lap as the discussion whirled around grant applications. He fell asleep before Lillian whipped out her checkbook and offered to finance the automatic doors herself if the grant committee couldn't pay for it.

The parents of the little girl with the disabled arm wanted to know why so much of the money should go toward the wheelchair-bound. The mother of a blind child wanted to know how the facilities would aid her son. Lillian asked for a cigarette. Pippa brought her water.

By the time they reached a tentative agreement on improvements, contractor estimates, and financing, Pippa was ready for one of Lillian's martinis.

Amazingly enough, Lillian seemed energized by the hours-long argument. as the Mercedes glided through the night, she rattled on about the personalities of the various committee members, the disabilities of the children involved, and a hundred other subjects. And her comments showed a remarkable perception, Pippa realized through her weariness.

Sleepily, she wondered what Doug thought of his assigned role as exercise leader for a bunch of physically challenged children, but she didn't want to intrude on Lillian's excitement. If he didn't like the assignment, he should have kept his mouth shut when they debated salaries for professional personnel. Who would know about physical exercise better than a former NFL linebacker? So, maybe he would meet a single mother and get a life.

Happily tabulating the evening's accomplishments, Pippa scarcely noticed the lights at the top of the hill as the car drove the winding path. Not until Doug muttered a curse and hit the accelerator did she realize there was trouble.

As the car screeched to a halt at the front steps, Pippa scrambled out and raced for the door, all the adrenaline of her emergency room stint pumping through her veins. A strange car parked by the curb did nothing to alleviate her fears.

A bolt of light shot down the steps as the door opened, and Seth stood silhouetted in the doorway.

“Thank God you're here. Chad's been vomiting all evening. The doctor's with him now. I want to take him to the hospital.”

He sounded terrified and furious at the same time. Pippa wanted to believe she imagined the cry for help behind his curt commands, but she couldn't. She heard his tears instead of his anger.

“It's the flu. There's no purpose in hospitalizing the boy,” the doctor insisted stubbornly.

“Vomiting dehydrates. I want him under the best possible medical attention,” Seth growled, stalking back and forth at the foot of Chad's immense bed.