Finding Forever (3 page)

“I have a grandpa?” Ally almost squealed.

Yes, Whitney knew her loving niece would want to see these relations. She’d love them no matter who they were.

The decision really lay with Brayden. The two of them looked at each other, and she could see the emotion he was trying so desperately to keep inside. It was obvious that he too wanted to meet these people, but he was still so hurt, and not willing to give his trust too readily.

“I don’t really care about stupid relatives I’ve never met before,” Brayden said after a long silence. “But it would be kind of cool to travel somewhere, and at least get out of this place for a little while.”

On the plus side, the boy was showing some emotion other than anger, Whitney thought.

“Do you want to sleep on it before you decide?” she asked them both, almost wishing they’d decide not to go.

“You’d be coming with us, right?” Brayden said, apparently in a bit of a panic. Was he thinking that maybe his aunt was trying to ship them off and be rid of them? Did he care?

“Of course I would, Brayden. You know how much I love you and your sister. I’m in no way trying to abandon you guys.” She saw his shoulders relax. As much as he fought her, she knew he loved her as much as she loved him.

“Well, I really don’t want to be in this house for Christmas,” Brayden said. “Last year sucked, let me tell you.”

“Okay, I’ll call your uncle and let him know we’ll accept their kind offer,” Whitney told them. “I’m not sure when he and your grandfather will want us to go off on the big trip.”

“Is my grandpa nice?” Ally asked.

Whitney looked at this beautiful, innocent child, and even more grief filled her.

“I’m sure he’s a good man. And being around you would only bring out the best in him.” She had to hope that what she’d said was the truth.

“I can’t wait,” Ally said. She bounced from Whitney’s lap and leaped up the stairs.

“Remember, I said I don’t know how soon we’ll be going,” Whitney called after her, but it was too late. The little girl was most likely already packing a bag.

“Are you sure about this, Brayden?”

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m not sure about them at all. But I’m more than sure I’d like to get out of this awful house.” And he too bounded up the stairs.

Would there be no end to fighting tears? Whitney pulled out the card Mr. Felton had left and dialed his number. He answered on the first ring, then told her the private jet would be ready to depart as soon as she was ready and had the children packed.

It was all moving way too fast.

K
ids, you have
to hurry. The car is already waiting in the driveway.”

The last few days had gone by in a blur, what with getting assignments from the children’s schoolteachers, packing, and making sure the house was reasonably secure. And now they were off to the races. Too soon, way too soon.

“We’re coming,” Brayden said, rolling his eyes at his aunt as he emerged from his bedroom. His excitement was obvious, but he was determined to pretend that the trip was no big deal.

“I’m sorry. I’m just nervous, I guess,” Whitney told him.

“Is that all you’re bringing?” he asked, throwing a doubtful look at her one pathetic suitcase.

“I don’t need very much. You just worry about your own bags.” She ruffled his hair.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied. He grabbed two of their bags without being asked and made his way downstairs, then rushed back up to get more.

Ally trailed behind Whitney as they followed the boy when all the luggage was collected. A new man was standing at her door.

“I apologize, but Mr. Liam had to fly back last night because of a business emergency. He asked that I escort you. I’m Mr. Smotter.”

“If he’s so busy that he can’t even accompany the kids to his father’s place, how is he going to spend any time with them?” she said, rethinking the entire journey.

“I assure you, Ms. Steele, that the kids are this family’s top priority. They are making time in their busy lives for the kids even as we speak.”

“I don’t know about this,” she hedged, but the kids rushed around her.

Mr. Smotter picked up a couple of the bags and began moving away from the house. There, sitting in the little driveway, was the largest limo Whitney had ever seen, and as they climbed inside, they all felt a bit intimidated.

“This is a really big car, Aunt Whitney,” Ally said with huge eyes. Even Brayden was far more subdued than normal.

“Yes it is,” Whitney answered, not knowing what else to add. She refrained from muttering the words
freaking waste of money
, but she was definitely thinking them. And she was also speculating on the size of the Felton’s “packages” — they must be compensating for something.

“Hello, children. As I told your aunt just now, my name is Mr. Smotter. It’s very nice to meet you both. I have snacks for you, and then you’ll be served breakfast on the jet.”

“You talk funny,” Ally said as she moved closer to the man.

“I speak very well, young lady,” he told her, and he seemed offended.

“Ally, that wasn’t very polite. Would you please apologize to Mr. Smotter?” Whitney told her niece.

Ally’s head drooped. “I’m sorry, Mr. Smotter.”

“No offense taken, young lady,” Mr. Smotter said, clearly warming toward the young girl when he saw the distress in her face.

Everything in the limo fascinated the two children, and they were overjoyed when Mr. Smotter opened a bottle of nonalcoholic sparkling cider. Ally giggled when he gave her a glass of the bubbly liquid in a crystal-stemmed glass.

After they arrived at the airport, Whitney’s jaw fell several inches when the limo pulled off into a private terminal and parked in front of a huge jet with
Felton Enterprises
painted boldly across the back.

“Wow! Are we flying in that? Just us?” Brayden gasped as he saw all the people surrounding the aircraft.

“Yes, Mr. Felton has sent his personal jet to collect you. He wants to make sure you arrive without any inconvenience or any harm,” Mr. Smotter said, and Whitney cringed.

“Is our grandpa megarich?” Brayden asked his aunt.

“Well, I didn’t want to shock you both too much, but apparently your father’s family has done quite well,” Whitney told him in as offhand a manner as she could.

“This is so unreal,” Brayden said, and then grinned for the first time in what felt like forever.

Whitney didn’t know why, but she suddenly got the giggles. The entire situation was just so bizarre. Things like this didn’t happen in the real world — only in her favorite romantic movies and books. The kids seemed to find the humor in the situation too, and soon the three of them were laughing so hard that none of them could breathe.

Mr. Smotter was looking at them as if they’d all lost their minds. He sat a bit stiffly, waiting for them to collect themselves and exit the limo to board the jet.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Smotter. We’re just a little overwhelmed,” Whitney managed to say between chortles.

They were led up the blue-carpeted stairs into the jet, and all three of the newbies looked around the luxurious cabin in awe.

“This is really cool, Auntie,” Ally squealed as she rushed forward and jumped into a cushioned chair.

“I could get used to traveling like this,” Brayden said with a barely repressed twinkle in his eyes.

“I think this is a fun adventure, and there’s nothing wrong with enjoying every minute of it,” Whitney told the children. “But let’s try not to get too used to it.” Then she sat down in the chair next to Ally and decided not to let any worries of her real life get to her until after this vacation.

She only hoped that it was nothing more than a vacation. Would this mysterious family try to keep the children?

If they did try, they would find that Whitney wasn’t a person to give up without a fight. A big fight. She loved these two children more than they could ever know. Money was a fine thing to have, but it wasn’t a substitute for love.

W
hen the Big
City came into view, Whitney’s breath lodged in her chest and her fears returned. What if she was making a mistake? The chances that this family didn’t want to take the kids was slim. What if ...?

No. She mustn’t think these things. Her sister wouldn’t want her to keep the children from a family who wanted to love them. At least she didn’t think she would. Had her husband told her he didn’t want anything to do with his family? There were so many unanswered questions.

“Wow, Aunt Whitney, this is so exciting,” Ally exclaimed.

The girl would have no trouble adjusting to the situation.

“Yes, honey, I know it is,” Whitney said as she stroked her niece’s hair.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Mr. Smotter said to them once the plane had landed. He led them from the jet and into a limo that was similar to the one they’d ridden in earlier.

The slow drive through heavy traffic made Whitney grateful. It gave her time to practice her breathing techniques and prepare herself for what was to come.

The car picked up speed as they left the city and its skyscrapers. In an hour or so, they rounded a corner and then she heard Brayden’s breath whoosh out. She turned to follow his gaze and then couldn’t stop her own gasp from escaping. Up a long and winding road a gigantic house dominated the snow-covered landscape.

“Is that where we’re going?” Ally asked, her voice quiet as she leaned closer to Whitney.

“Yes, Ms. Ally, this is your family home,” Mr. Smotter told her.

“That doesn’t look like a home,” the little girl replied.

The closer they came, the larger and more intimidating the building looked. Whitney felt so far out of her element that she feared she might not land safely on her feet when this ride was over.

They drove around to the back of the manor, which had windows that each seemed bigger than her entire place back in Oregon, and walls stretching halfway to the sky and beyond. Would the children get lost in the depths of this palace the second they stepped inside, never to be seen again?

“I want you both to stick with me,” Whitney told them as the limo stopped. “And please behave.”

“We promise to be good, Aunt Whitney,” Ally said quickly. Her nephew gave no response.

“Right this way, Ms. Steele.”

The massive door ahead of them looked like something Shrek would need to use. Whitney walked slowly toward it, holding tightly to Ally’s hand. Brayden stood next to her, for once not issuing a snappy or snarky remark, but simply staring as Mr. Smotter opened the door.

“Why is the door so big?” Ally asked as they stepped through.

“Because Mr. Felton is a large man,” Mr. Smotter told her.

Ally stopped, and her eyes turned into saucers. “Like a giant?” she squeaked.

“Not quite that big,” the man said, and even he couldn’t repress a brief chuckle.

They were greeted in the hall by a smile. “I didn’t think you were ever going to arrive,” said a short, round woman with a perky voice.

“Elise, this is Whitney Steele, and these are the children, Master Brayden and Miss Ally,” Mr. Smotter said, and he turned to Whitney. “This is the nanny, Ms. Simms. She’s been awaiting your arrival anxiously.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Simms, but the children won’t need a nanny,” Whitney said, her fingers tightening on Ally’s hand.

“Oh …” The woman’s face fell, and Whitney immediately regretted what she’d said.

“I just meant that I enjoy watching after Ally,” Whitney told her. “And Brayden is quite independent. But I’m sure we could do some things together.”

“That would be wonderful, Ms. Steele,” Elise said, her lips instantly lifting.

“Please call me Whitney. I’ve never been comfortable with so much formality.”

“Oh, well … um …” That request had clearly dumbfounded the poor woman.

Mr. Smotter stepped in and saved them all from the awkwardness. “I’m sure you’re all ready to rest and then get changed for dinner.”

“Yes, thank you,” Whitney said.

They left Elise, and after walking for what seemed to be a mile, they stopped in front of an ornate door.

They were shown Brayden’s room first, and then Ally’s, which Whitney was grateful to learn was next to her own. She tugged on the girl’s hand anxiously.

“I’m fine, Aunt Whitney,” Ally told her. “I want to jump on my bed.”

“I’ll keep a good eye on her while you rest up from your trip,” Elise said, and Whitney walked reluctantly to her room next door.

“I’ll have your personal maid, Darcy, unpack your belongings while you take a bath,” Mr. Smotter said.

“I don’t need any help of that sort, but thank you.” Whitney turned the knob and opened the door to a room easily the size of her last apartment, the one she’d been renting before that tragic accident.

“Nonsense,” Mr. Smotter said, and he turned and walked away.

She barely made it inside before she was joined by a woman who looked old enough to be her great-grandmother. How could she possibly have the poor old woman do anything for her?

“I’ll begin putting your things away,” the woman told her briskly.

“That really isn’t necessary,” Whitney began as the woman unzipped her suitcase and dove on inside.

Whitney’s cheeks grew flushed. Just her luck — right on top were a couple of her favorite romance novels, with very risqué pictures on the cover. The maid looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Just so you know, we do have an extensive library here; you’ll have a lot of
good
books to read.”

Whitney couldn’t miss the disparaging look that the maid gave to those poor half-naked beauties on the covers, their bodices sadly ripped.

“I really can unpack on my own,” Whitney told the harpy, and quickly snatched the books from the woman’s hands.

Darcy was openly affronted, and Whitney could feel her face turning redder by the minute as this oh-so-proper maid stood there staring at her less than impeccably packed suitcase.

“It’s my job to get you unpacked,” Darcy said, and then turned away and continued what she was doing.

Whitney decided it was far easier to just let the woman do the work and not argue. So she stepped into the adjoining bathroom and felt as if she’d died and gone to heaven.

The bathtub against the back wall was big enough to swim in, and it had a window beside it with a view of the snowy rolling hills that seemed to stretch for miles. Maybe, just maybe, she could relax with a nice hot bath.

She turned on the tap, then took her time brushing her teeth and putting her hair up. The tub filled with amazing speed, and, after she added fragrant bath beads to the water, she sank down and let her worries melt away.

Somewhere in the distance she heard a knock on the door and a voice saying something or other, but she just didn’t care. The knocking became more insistent, and that’s when she shot awake.

“Dinner will be served at eight on the dot. Don’t be late. Mr. Liam doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” Darcy called out through the closed door.

“Okay, we’ll be on time,” Whitney replied in an equally loud voice. She was willing to say anything to make the maid go away.

This tub and the relaxation it offered might be the only thing in the monstrous mansion that let her keep her sanity.