A Man To Marry

It wasn’t Cat’s place to question or criticise what he chose to tell her. Besides, she had a feeling this man had punished himself enough for the last six months!

‘Adam is a beautiful child,’ she returned diplomatically.

What else could she say? She didn’t know this man. Or his son. Or Adam’s mother. She merely needed to know something of Adam’s background if he were to come to the playschool, and realised that Caleb Reynolds was aware of that too; she had the feeling that under normal circumstances he would have to be placed on the rack to divulge much of his family history! But, to his credit, it was evidence of how much he loved Adam that he was telling her those things now…

Caleb Reynolds looked troubled, his expression coldly forbidding. ‘Adam hasn’t spoken for six months.’ The words seemed forced out of him.

Cat gave a pained frown, thinking of that beautiful child, a prisoner in a world of silence. ‘Since the accident,’ she confirmed softly.

‘Shock,’ Caleb Reynolds explained tersely. ‘Do you mind if we sit down?’ he asked. ‘At the moment I feel like a little boy myself, brought to the headmaster’s study for a reprimand for some misdemeanour!’

She very much doubted his feelings particularly bothered him; he was far too self-assured and arrogant for that. But maybe he wouldn’t seem so damned patronising if he were sitting in an armchair instead of towering over her!

‘Please—take a seat,’ she invited curtly. ‘You were telling me about Adam,’ she reminded him once they were both seated, Caleb in one of the armchairs, Cat on the sofa that faced him.

Caleb sighed heavily. ‘He hasn’t spoken since they found him after the accident. He understands what is being said to him, responds to anything asked of him—sometimes too readily! He just never—’ Caleb broke off, shaking his head, breathing deeply in his agitation.

‘What was Adam like before the accident?’ Cat enquired softly, wondering if Adam would be able to come here. If he didn’t readily leave his father… She certainly couldn’t see Caleb Reynolds spending his days with fifteen mischievous children!

The harshly hewn face opposite hers relaxed into a brief smile, giving Cat a glimpse of a man who was relaxed and humorous. If anything he was even more devastatingly attractive like that!

‘Until six months ago Adam was like any other mischievous three-year-old,’ Caleb Reynolds revealed huskily. ‘He laughed all the time.’ He was no longer looking at Cat, his thoughts all inwards as he remembered. ‘He knew no danger. Accepted no limits. But it’s his laughter I miss the most,’ he admitted gruffly. ‘To come home and hear the sound of his laughter after a frustrating day at work…’ He shook his head. ‘Adam was a warm and loving child, full of fun,’ he finished abruptly, once again looking at Cat, his eyes bleak now.

Cat swallowed hard. This man had not only lost his wife six months ago, but the son he had known and loved had been replaced with a little boy who seemed nervous of his own shadow. He—

‘Here we are,’ Kate announced brightly as she came in with a laden tea-tray. ‘I hope you don’t mind, Mr Reynolds, but I took Adam on a tour of the playschool while the kettle was boiling. He was most impressed with the slides and swings we have outside in the garden, weren’t you, Adam?’ she said as she handed him his juice and placed a cake on a plate on the table in front of him where he now sat on the sofa beside Cat.

The little boy grinned and nodded his head before picking up the chocolate cake and biting into it hungrily.

‘Nothing wrong with your appetite,’ Kate murmured with satisfaction before turning to the two other adults in the room. ‘Tea?’ she prompted Caleb Reynolds.

‘No sugar, thank you,’ he nodded, watching his son with anxious eyes.

As Cat watched the two of them over the rim of her own teacup she realised how much love was contained in Caleb Reynolds for his son. For all that the man looked austere and unapproachable, slightly disdainful when he looked down that arrogant nose of his, Caleb Reynolds loved his son very much. So he had one redeeming feature, after all!

‘This is a wonderful old house,’ Caleb remarked casually, drinking his tea but ignoring the plate of cake and biscuits Kate had brought in to accompany it.

‘Thank you,’ Kate accepted warmly, Cat leaving her friend to take charge of the conversation now; the last ten minutes alone with Caleb Reynolds hadn’t exactly been relaxing! ‘We’re both very fond of it,’ Kate continued pleasantly. ‘And, of course, it’s ideal for our purposes,’ she stated practically.

Caleb Reynolds nodded. ‘And is there a Mr Rourke and a Mr Brady?’

‘No.’ Cat was the one to answer him drily, looking across at him with mocking green eyes, wondering if he was yet another person who had come to the completely wrong conclusion concerning the relationship between herself and Kate!

He gave her a narrow-eyed look, but added nothing to his earlier remark. Not because he didn’t want to, Cat felt sure, but because he could see the defiance in her expression, and was determined not to give her the satisfaction of meeting it!

‘I’m renting a cottage in the village,’ he bit out abruptly. ‘Rose Cottage. I don’t know if you know it?’

‘We do,’ Kate answered with a smile; considering how small the village was, they would be particularly insular if they didn’t! ‘You don’t intend staying in the area long, then, Mr Reynolds?’

‘That all depends,’ he said noncommittally.

‘Don’t look so worried, Mr Reynolds.’ Cat laughed softly at his suddenly cagey expression. ‘The length of your stay won’t affect whether or not Adam is accepted here.’

He returned her gaze with those cool grey eyes for several long seconds before replying. ‘I wasn’t worried,’ he finally drawled.

She doubted very much ever worried this man, certainly not being accepted. For one thing, she was sure his obvious wealth usually assured him a smooth—and comfortable!—passage wherever he chose to go. And, for another, it didn’t look as if it would bother him too much if it didn’t!

‘Do you have work in the area?’ Kate asked politely, much more the capable of the two of them when it came to dealing with the parents, which was why Cat usually left the lead to her in interviews like this.

‘Not exactly.’ Once again his answer was designed to tell them as little about himself as possible.

As Cat had guessed all too easily a short time ago, Caleb Reynolds was not a man who liked, or wanted, to talk about himself. She was sure he had only told her what he had earlier because in the circumstances he’d felt he had to.

But he obviously didn’t have too much of an idea about village life, because what Lilley Stewart, at the post office and general store, didn’t know about any of the local residents usually wasn’t worth anything! And, as the newest inhabitant, Caleb Reynolds was sure to be the favourite topic of conversation for several weeks. Whether they were interested or not, anyone who went into the post office for so much as a stamp in the next few weeks would be told what little Lilley already knew about him, and pumped for any information they might have that she didn’t!

With Caleb’s young son in their care five mornings a week, Kate and Cat would definitely be in the line of fire. Village life certainly had its disadvantages as well as its advantages!

‘I’m really of very little interest,’ Caleb drawled as he seemed to half guess her thoughts. ‘Although I believe you’ve had your share of public figures living in the village.’ He smartly turned the conversation away from himself.

A fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Cat. He really didn’t want to talk about himself, did he? Although she couldn’t say she was exactly happy with the direction the conversation had taken now…

‘At least, you did,’ Caleb added drily, when neither she nor Kate made any response to his initial comment.

‘Oh, you must mean Toby Westward,’ Cat dismissed lightly. ‘Our colourful—literally!—local artist. He was just here for lunch, actually.’ She was starting to be defensive now, had been feeling that way since Caleb Reynolds had asked if either of them was married. What was wrong with society today if two women couldn’t live and work together without creating gossip and speculation?

‘Was he?’ Caleb Reynolds acknowledged without interest. ‘Actually, I was referring to Katherine Maitland. In fact, I believe she actually lived in this house at one time.’

If he had tossed a bomb amongst them he couldn’t have sent stronger shock waves through the room, both Kate and Cat staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

‘Where on earth did you hear that?’ Kate was finally the one to gasp, Cat still staring at Caleb as the prey must stare at the snake—just before it strikes the fatal blow.

He shrugged. ‘The woman at the post office mentioned it to me yesterday when I went in to pick up supplies,’ he responded, his mouth twisting into a wry smile. ‘A bit of local colour! I believe she did mention Toby Westward, too,’ he finished.

Obviously Toby held no interest for him whatsoever! But Katherine Maitland did…

‘No doubt you’re on her list of ‘local colour’ too now,’ Cat put in hardly. ‘And I believe you may be right about Katherine Maitland once having owned this house; I seem to recall it being mentioned when we first looked at the place with a view to buying.’ She deliberately didn’t look at Kate as she spoke.

‘Although she can’t have lived here for years. Way before our time.’ She silently congratulated herself on having dealt with the situation so calmly.

‘Very much so,’ Caleb Reynolds accepted. ‘Although you will obviously have heard of her?’ He raised dark brows.

‘Of course.’ Kate was the one to take over their side of the conversation this time. ‘She was one of the most famous opera singers of her day. But surely she must be dead by now?’ she queried flippantly. ‘She must be ancient!’

His mouth twisted again. ‘Early seventies at a guess,’ he said. ‘Hardly ancient. I actually saw her perform once, shortly before she retired,’ he continued huskily. ‘It’s something I’ve never forgotten. She didn’t only have the most amazing voice, she had something else, a charisma that was electric!’

‘But—’ Cat broke off, breathing deeply. ‘You must have been very young?’ She kept her voice light.

‘Not so young,’ he returned. ‘Although it must be about twenty-five years since she retired after a family tragedy. You—’