Carole Mortimer

A Man To Marry


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for his age!—with honey-blond hair and huge dark brown eyes.

      ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Adam.’ Cat moved forward, going down on her haunches to shake the little boy’s hand, her own gaze warm as she looked into those shy brown eyes. Adam’s hand, as it slowly shook hers, was tiny and light to the touch, almost like the wings of a little bird. Cat frowned her inner concern; Adam Reynolds seemed very delicate for a boy of three and a half…

      ‘Adam hasn’t been well.’ His father spoke sharply when Cat looked at him frowningly as she straightened. ‘But he’s better now,’ he amended harshly.

      Cat continued to look at Caleb Reynolds. It wasn’t unusual for a father to want to view the playschool his child would attend, but it was usually in accompaniment with his wife. Where was Adam’s mother, Caleb Reynolds’ wife?

      ‘I’ll go and get us all some tea,’ Kate offered efficiently. ‘Would you like to come with me and get some juice, Adam?’ she asked gently, the impatience she felt with the majority of adults never in evidence when she spoke to or was with children.

      If anything Kate loved children even more than Cat did, and they instinctively loved her in return, seeming to sense the kindness that dwelt beneath her slightly austere manner. So it came as no surprise to Cat when Adam walked shyly across the room to accompany Kate out to the kitchen, the little boy pausing only once, as he reached the door, the reassuring nod he received from his father enough for him to continue on his way with Kate.

      ‘Amazing!’ Caleb Reynolds breathed softly, staring at the doorway through which his son had just left the room. ‘Adam has refused to leave my side, even for a minute, for the last six months,’ he rasped by way of explanation of his surprise as Cat looked at him questioningly.

      ‘What happened six months ago?’ she prompted huskily.

      ‘His mother died,’ Caleb Reynolds told her bluntly, his gaze once again seeming to challenge Cat.

      It was a starkly made statement, and all the more telling because of the way it was phrased. He hadn’t said his wife had died, but that Adam’s mother had. Although, as Adam’s father, the child’s mother must have meant something to him too…?

      ‘They were involved in a car accident,’ Caleb Reynolds continued economically. ‘Alicia was killed, Adam was thrown out of the car on impact and broke his arm. I wasn’t with them at the time.’ The words were bitten out, as if he expected some sort of criticism for his explanation.

      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?’