Bile burned Jordan’s throat as he forced his clenched fists open.

He could barely handle the thought that anyone, but especially their father, would hurt Jacob and Lacey. That the man would actually threaten their aunt Nell, the woman who was taking such good care of those kids.

Jordan took a minute before he spoke; the last thing Nell needed was another angry guy. “So you’re going to adopt them,” he said in a mild voice.

“Yeah. But I love them, too. I want to adopt them.”

How could he possibly sell the house where they lived until the adoption went through, and Nell and the kids were safe? Jordan closed his eyes, hoping the whole situation would magically disappear. But a minute later, when he opened his eyes, Nell still looked as if she was expecting her world to bottom out. Damn it. There had to be another way out of this mess.

Dear Reader,

Many of us live on a plateau for years, raising children, working, playing. But sometimes life takes a sudden turn, and we have to come out of that stasis and deal with mercurial situations. Not many people embrace change when it’s thrust upon them. Nell Hart and Jordan Tanner are no exception. They’re both so focused on their individual goals, when circumstances draw them into each other’s orbit, neither is prepared for the impact that has on their lives.

I love writing stories about ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances. Although it’s a stretch to say Nell Hart is ordinary. She’s kind and compassionate and fierce in her loyalty to those she loves. She does, indeed, have heart. Jordan Tanner does, too, he just doesn’t know it. His fast track to success gets derailed when Nell and her soon-to-be-adopted niece and nephew become part of his daily life. It doesn’t take him long to realize money can’t compare to the richness of family and community.

I had fun writing about the people who live at 879 Dunstan Lane. Nell stole my heart—there’s that word again!—from day one. And who doesn’t love a man who is kind and gentle with children? I hope you enjoy their story.

I’d love to hear from you. You can email me at kate@katekelly.ca or visit my website www.katekelly.ca.

Sincerely,

Kate Kelly

A Deliberate Father
Kate Kelly

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Growing up in New Brunswick, Canada, Kate Kelly had long red braids and freckles. Ah, you say, Anne of Green Gables. Not quite. Sunday mornings, outside the church they both attended, Mary Grannan, the author of the Maggie Muggins series, would greet Kate with, “Good morning, Maggie Muggins. How are you today?” Kate doesn’t remember what she replied on those occasions, bedazzled by the wonderful, outlandish hats Mary Grannan wore. Kate has had a lifelong love affair with books, but writing came in fits and starts. She didn’t take it seriously until her forties. Now she can’t get along without it. She has the good fortune to still live on the east coast of Canada with her husband (the children have flown away). She writes, grow herbs and perennials and sails when the wind blows her way.

To June Kelly.

Wish you were here.

Many thanks to Lina Gardiner, the best critique partner ever!

To Norah Wilson, what a ride it’s been!

To the Domino Divas, my gang!

And, of course, to my guys, Adrian, Reed and Rei.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER ONE

JORDAN TANNER PULLED UP across the street from the faded purple monstrosity and uttered a dozen different curses, each one ending with Great-aunt Beulah. Not that he wasn’t grateful to have inherited the house—mausoleum, whatever—but he harbored no illusions. As the last Tanner standing, this legacy had come to him through default.

Rain beat against the windshield of his Lexus as the wind tore down the deserted street. The oak he’d parked under groaned from the assault. He should move his car away from the trees. But Dunstan Lane was entirely lined with the old giants, and he knew a stall tactic when he saw one.

Jordan climbed out, unfurled his umbrella and studied his new home through the pelting rain. Not home. Residence. Home was his I-can’t-believe-I-finally-made-it condo forty minutes down the highway. All he had to do was ride out the next few months in the butt-ugly Victorian until the place sold. Then he would return to his real life.

A movement on the roof three stories up caught his attention. Curious, he crossed the street and peered upward. A small woman, maybe a girl, scampered over a dormer, stopped near the edge above him and raised her arms to the sky. You didn’t have to be Einstein to know that was a curse ripping out of her mouth.

He tossed the umbrella aside and broke into a full out run. How long would it take him to get to the top floor? And then? Then he’d figure it out. Talk her down. Break into the third-floor apartment if he had to and find a way onto the roof. No one was going to kill themselves today. Not on his property.

He pounded up the fire escape, stopping only to sight the woman. She was squatting now, even closer to the edge, and swinging something in her hand. He pulled his head down and pushed on, his breath searing his lungs. Waste of energy to shout. Probably some crack crazed teenager. Probably one of his tenants. He hit the landing outside the top-floor apartment. Nailed to the side of the house was a ladder that went the rest of the way up. Thank God.

He grabbed the bottom rung as he spared a quick check on the crazy lady. Yup, still there, but she had turned away from the edge, her attention focused on the shingles.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, mister.” A thin voice wafted out from a window that opened onto the fire escape.

Jordan shot a look behind him but the curtains obscured whoever had spoken. Another nutcase, no doubt.

“There’s a woman on the roof,” he hollered over his shoulder as he hoisted himself up the first rung. “I think she’s going to jump.”

A small boy poked his head out the open window. “She’s fixing the roof. You better wait until she comes down.” The anemic-looking child pushed his heavy framed glasses farther up his nose and looked him over. “You got a cold beer?”

“Excuse me?”

“She thinks cold beer is yummy. If you give her one, she might not yell at you.”

Jordan stepped back onto the landing and leaned over the railing until he caught sight of the woman. Now that he was taking time to notice, yeah, that was a hammer in her hand. The soft thump of hammer meeting nail reached him as he watched her duckwalk away from the edge.

He hunched his shoulders against the relentless rain. “Does she always work on the roof during a storm?”

“Not always.” The kid looked like he was having a midlife crisis at the age of, well, whatever age he was. Somewhere between eight and twelve. His thick black glasses swallowed his face, giving him a pinched look, as if he spent a lot of time scraping the bottom of the peanut butter jar. He started to shut the window.

“Hang on a sec. What’s your name?”

“Jacob.” He banged the lower edge of the window with his fist. It slid down another two inches.

“Jacob, I’d like to ask you a few questions.” Like how rotten the old house was, and exactly who lived in it. Beulah’s solicitor hadn’t mentioned children. And where was the caretaker? Could it possibly be the tiny woman repairing the roof?

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” Jacob said through the glass.

Of course he wasn’t. But Jordan would probably get more out of the kid in five minutes than a wily old caretaker. He hadn’t talked to his aunt for at least ten years but that didn’t mean he’d forgotten her. Beulah had been borderline crazy, in his opinion, and like attracted like. The five apartments in the house probably housed all sorts of misfits. Like the woman on the roof for instance. “If we introduce ourselves, we’re not strangers. I’m Jordan.”

He pasted on his I’m-a-nice-guy smile, the one he used right before he told his clients how much it was going to cost them to save their companies. Jacob sent him a withering look. “That’s not the way it works.”

Okay, the kid wasn’t stupid. Time to talk business. “Give you a couple bucks if you answer some questions.”

“About what?”

“About the—umph.” Jordan crumpled to his knees as someone ambushed him from behind. An arm wound around his neck, cutting off his air supply. What in blazes? He grabbed the slender arm and tugged. If he could get to his feet, he could fall backward and shake off—

“I’ve got a hammer in my hand,” a voice grated in his ear. “You move, and I’ll use it.”

The woman from the roof.

“Call 9-1-1, Jacob. Tell them we have an intruder,” she said.

“Perry will come when he hears our address,” Jacob shouted through the window.

Roof Lady swung her hammer under his nose. “What kind of sicko sneaks up a fire escape in the pouring rain and offers a child money to talk to him?”

Jordan eased back on his heels, his attacker plastered to his back like Spider-Woman. “You don’t want to call the police.”

Her grip tightened around his neck. “Are you a friend of Tony’s?”

“I’m Jordan Tanner, Beulah Winer’s nephew.”

Her arm went slack, and he heard her suck in a sharp breath.

“Oh, boy.” Jacob slammed the window all the way shut.

She climbed off his back. “Mr. Tanner?”

“Yeah.” He got to his feet and wiped the rain from his face as he turned around on the small landing. The woman barely reached his armpit. With her huge green eyes and small pointed face, she reminded him of a drowned kitten. He looked pointedly at the hammer in her hand until she slipped it into the hoop on her tool belt.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re early,” she said in the same voice his secretary used when he was late.

“Why are you up on the roof when— You’re the caretaker.” The conclusion he’d been trying to avoid couldn’t be ignored any longer. Round one to Beulah Winer. He’d assumed she’d left him the house because he was the last living member of their not-so-illustrious family, but only five minutes in, and it wasn’t stacking up that way.

He’d hoped the house would provide the means of cementing the financial security he’d always dreamed of and very nearly achieved. But he’d failed to take into account the fact that his great-aunt was the benefactor. There was a good chance Beulah had left him the house to torture him.

“That’s right, I’m the caretaker.” Roof Lady elbowed past him and after a couple of thumps, yanked the window open and slid through. Jordan barely had time to register her trim butt before she turned and eyed him. “Do you have any ID?”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Hadn’t she been listening? He owned the building.

“You were lurking outside my window, trying to bribe my kid with money. I’m calling the cops if you can’t prove who you say you are.” She grabbed the phone from the kitchen counter and cradled the hand-set under her chin. Her right hand stole down to rest on the head of her hammer.

“I thought—” he got out through clenched teeth as he wrestled his wallet out of his soaked pocket “—that you were a jumper.” He flipped his wallet open and held up his driver’s licence. “Jordan Tanner, at your service.”

BEULAH WINER HAD BEEN MEANER than a swarm of wasps on a hot summer day. And just as crazy. She hadn’t been particularly fond of Nell—she hadn’t been fond of anyone as far as Nell could tell—and Nell had returned the favor. Like everyone else living in the house, she’d made a wary peace with the spiteful old lady, had even helped her as much as Beulah allowed. In return, Nell had found a safe harbor for the past two years. A safe harbor that was quickly sinking out of sight.

“You thought I was going to jump off the roof?” She slid the phone back on the counter. With a sinking stomach she studied his driver’s licence. Even with his hair plastered to his head and rain trickling down his face, Jordan Tanner still managed to look as self-assured as his photo. He had a stubborn chin and clear blue-gray eyes with a black rim around the iris.

“I didn’t see the hammer from the street,” he said as he pushed his dark hair off his forehead. “All I saw was a…woman up on a roof in a storm.”

Nell narrowed her eyes. Okay, so she was drenched. And of course he had to arrive before she had a chance to change out of her overalls and get rid of her tools, but— What was she doing? The only thing that need concern her was getting Mr. Tanner in and out of the building and her life as quickly as possible. And if that meant playing nice for the next hour or so, she could do that. She didn’t have to like it, but she could do it.

She bit back a smile as she demurely motioned for him to crawl through the open window. She knew she should suggest meeting him at the front door, but watching him clamber through the narrow opening was much more appealing. He shot her a hard look, as if to say he knew exactly what she was up to, then in one graceful move, somehow managed to maneuver his wide shoulders through the small frame. She took a step back when he straightened to his full height, the room dwarfed by his size. She should have guessed he’d rise to the challenge.

“If you give me your suit jacket, I’ll hang it up in the bathroom and grab us some towels. Unless you want to go home and dry off. Come back later.” Hard to keep the hopeful note out of her voice.

“I’d prefer to look around now.”

With a heavy heart she accepted his sodden jacket and trudged off to the bathroom. Of course he wanted to look at the apartments today. From the little she’d been able to squeeze out of the tight-lipped solicitor who’d handled Beulah’s affairs, Tanner was a business consultant who lived in Seabend, the upscale seaside community just twenty minutes out of Halifax. Seabend had become so crowded with trendy coffee shops and boutiques, Nell barely recognized it anymore. The only reason Waterside hadn’t developed in the same way was because they were another forty minutes down the road, making them a solid hour from the city. Tourists trickled through in the summer, but they stuck to the waterfront where a few stores had sprouted. Thankfully, people like her, who lived a few blocks back in the old neighborhoods, were left undisturbed. Heaven forbid Tanner should waste time making a second trip here. She rolled her eyes. God save them all from consultants.

In the bathroom, she scrubbed her face with a towel and studied her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were huge, and if anyone bothered to notice, they’d see the slight tremble at the right corner of her mouth.

She gripped the edge of the sink with both hands and leaned into her reflection until her breath steamed up the mirror. You will not be afraid. You will go out there and tell that man he needs you to run this place. You will…. She rested her forehead against the mirror. She couldn’t lose her apartment. Jacob and Lacey had finally started treating the place like home. She’d never find another one for such a low rent in this neighborhood. If they had to move, her little patched-together family would suffer—and so would her chances for adopting her niece and nephew.

The thought that Jacob and Lacey could be taken away from her, that she might not gain custody, was unacceptable. She wanted to howl every time she thought of the kind of life they’d have with their abusive father, Tony. The adoption should have been final ages ago, made easier because she was a relative. But Tony had contacted Child Welfare a few weeks ago and expressed concern that his children weren’t receiving the best care. In Nell’s opinion, his real concern was getting parole, and if he had to use his children to get it, he would. As a result of his bogus complaints, she and the children were now being subjected to an intense home study. It scared her to think of what would happen to Jacob and Lacey if he was granted custody after he got out of jail. Who would take care of them?

She was determined to be pleasant to Tanner. Mr. Tanner. She couldn’t afford not to be.

She slipped into Lacey’s bedroom, yanked off her wet clothes and dragged on her green silk blouse and black slacks. Her hope of impressing upon Tanner that they were a normal family had been blown out of the water when she’d attacked him on the fire escape. But at least she could look halfway decent while she showed him the apartments. Running a hand through her damp hair, she hurried toward the kitchen. Jacob had probably disappeared into his room, and she didn’t like the idea of Tanner exploring on his own.

Halfway to the kitchen, she skidded to a stop. Standing in the middle of her tiny living room, Tanner looked almost approachable in bare feet. Nell paused briefly to evaluate her new landlord. Jordan Tanner was a big man, over six feet tall, and yummy enough to make her want to take a second look. From the way his dark hair spilled elegantly onto his forehead, her best guess was his cut wasn’t the fifteen-dollar special from the local barber. The faint lines around his eyes suggested he was in his mid-thirties. His white dress shirt had damp splotches on it, and he’d loosened his conservative gray tie so it hung at a crooked angle. He’d removed his wet socks and shoes, and his bare feet gave him an oddly vulnerable appearance.

He turned as she walked into the room. Her toes tingled as he surveyed her from top to toe. “Sorry about earlier. I should have known better than to offer Jacob money. Seeing you on the roof rattled me.”

“Apology accepted. I probably overreacted.” There was no probably about it. She’d almost beaned the guy with her hammer. “Maybe we should start over. My name is Nell Hart.” She held her breath as she stuck out her hand. He could make her life miserable if he chose.

A smile broke out on his face, and she swayed toward him as her hand disappeared inside his warm clasp.

“So.” She pulled away and rubbed the goose bumps on her arms. “This is my apartment, obviously. It’s a two-bedroom. It’s not very big, but good enough for us. You’re welcome to look at the rest of the rooms.” She clamped her runaway mouth shut and led the way out of the crowded living room. His dazzling smile had loosened something inside her, like her good sense.

She wondered what he thought of her living space in the same breath that she wondered what difference it made. When they’d moved in, she’d painted the walls white, minimized the furniture and taken down the curtains to give the living room a bigger feel. But it was never going to be anything other than a small room with too many people using it. “They’re the kids’ rooms, so—”

“Kids? As in more than one?”

Her back stiffened as she knocked on Jacob’s door. “That’s right. Jacob and Lacey.”

“Two bedrooms, two kids. Where do you sleep?”

“We’re working on that. Jacob? Mr. Tanner would like to see your room.”

“Call me Jordan.”

She sent a weak smile over her shoulder. A shiver worked through her. Too much man, standing far too close and smelling delicious. Like spice and mystery. Breaking the cardinal rule of entering without permission, she burst into Jacob’s room.

Her nephew’s bedroom was in its usual frightfully well-organized state, except the blankets had been pulled off his bed. He’d made a tent in one corner by draping two blankets over his desk. She knew he was hiding inside; she could hear him breathing.

Nell felt crushed. He’d built his first tent the day after her sister, Mary, had died. He’d emerged to attend the funeral, but it took her another two weeks to coax him out again with the promise of ice cream and a visit to the science museum. For months after his mother’s death and his father’s incarceration, Jacob ferreted out quiet, dark spots to curl up in, seeking asylum. A habit he’d stopped until now.

She’d tried to hide her anxiety about the inevitable changes headed their way, but obviously she hadn’t succeeded. Jacob had enough to carry on his thin shoulders; she’d wanted to protect him from additional worry. Like her, he’d had to grow up too hard, too fast. “What’s going on, Jacob?”

“Just reading.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yes.” He sounded so forlorn.

Tanner leaned against the doorjamb and studied the room. “I remember making tents like that when I was a kid. This isn’t a bad room. Could use a second window.”

Or better yet, a replacement for the existing window so she wouldn’t have to cover it with plastic in the winter. Not that Tanner was ready to hear the gritty details. She had a feeling he was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his caretaker was a woman with two children. Just wait until he found out about her low rent. At least he’d made it sound normal that Jacob was hiding under his blankets. Maybe it was normal. Maybe she was overreacting.

“Lacey’s room is across the hall. It was clean last time I looked.” Melody had taken Lacey shopping for the afternoon. Nell had tried to coax Jacob to go with them, but he’d refused. She opened the door a couple inches, peeked in and breathed a sigh of relief.

The room was tidy. Sort of. If you looked past the brightly colored ribbons and scarves that festooned the walls and furniture. Lacey had wanted a complete refit, but the budget had stretched only to visiting secondhand stores to hunt for small pretties. She hated saying no to the kids; they rarely asked for much and had accepted her frugal lifestyle with such quiet dignity it sometimes frightened her. She wanted them to stamp their feet, to whine and demand that they get to be kids just like their friends. But they were still too scared, too battered from the curves life had thrown at them.

“It would make a great office,” Tanner commented, looking over her shoulder.

Nell’s mouth twitched. Instead of pointing out the room was already occupied, she snapped the door shut. “Would you like to see the downstairs apartments now?”

He looked at his bare feet. “Is there an inside staircase?”

As tempted as she was to lead him back out to the fire escape, she succumbed to her good sense. “This way.”

She trotted out of the apartment and down the two flights of stairs, taking a sadistic satisfaction in the knowledge that Tanner was doing the grand tour in bare feet. “This was your aunt Beulah’s apartment,” she explained as she unlocked a door on the first floor. “You probably know that.” Not that Nell had seen him in the two years she’d lived here.

“Auntie and I weren’t close,” he commented drily as he followed her into the apartment. “Not bad. Refinished hardwood floors. Lots of light. It’s changed a lot since the last time I saw it. That was years ago. Did you do the renovations?”

“I did the floors and painted the walls and helped install the new windows.”

He walked through the empty apartment, switching lights on and off as he went. “Even the kitchen’s half-decent.”

Nell busied herself with checking the tap at the kitchen sink. She’d discovered it dripping yesterday and had replaced a washer. Not that she doubted her work; keeping busy was her way of staying out of trouble. She hated to admit it, but even wet and wrinkled, Tanner looked like trouble.

“I know a nice young couple who are anxious to rent the apartment.” She followed him into the master bedroom.

He whirled around to look at her. “Do you? How much do you think I can charge for a three-bedroom?”

“Fifteen hundred is a fair price for this community.”

“How much are you paying?”

Uh-oh. Either the solicitor, Mr. Swinburg, hadn’t told him or Tanner enjoyed watching her squirm. “Five hundred. Plus heat.”

He frowned. “For a two-bedroom?”

“Beulah and I had an arrangement.”

“Which was?”

Was, not is. She squared her shoulders. “I can do small carpentry repairs and I’m good with plumbing. And after two years I know all the quirks of the furnace.”

She felt as if she were being interviewed when he leaned against the wall and crossed his ankles. “And you fix the leak in the roof only when it rains?”

“I told your aunt when I moved in that she needed a new roof. But if something didn’t directly affect her, she often chose to ignore it.”

He wiped a hand over his face. “I don’t suppose you do roofs, as well?”

“No, but I could help someone who knew what they were doing.”

“What else needs replacing?”

She looked around the apartment. “The windows down here are new but the ones upstairs aren’t so great. The furnace will last you another few years if you baby it along. The foundation is solid. The house needs a fresh coat of paint.” She didn’t specify inside and out. As for the wiring, that could wait until he asked.

He wandered back to the living room, looked around and sighed. “There are three other apartments?”

“There are two one-bedroom apartments on the second floor, both rented. And there’s a small bedsit beside this apartment. It’s tiny.”

“Is it rented?”

“No.” Not officially. Nell held her breath, praying he wouldn’t want to look at the room. She’d meant to ask Rodney to make himself scarce today, but once the storm had moved in, she hadn’t had the heart. He was too old to sleep outside, and he was still running a bit of a fever.

She hadn’t planned on bringing him home two weeks ago. The first time, she’d spotted him squatting on the sidewalk in town, she almost hadn’t recognized him. The older man had lost so much weight, and it had been years since she’d seen him. Rodney Stiles was a face from a past long dead and gone; hearing his familiar voice, although weakened, had stirred up powerful memories. She gave him all the change she had and continued on her way. But she couldn’t stop thinking about him, about how cheerful he and his wife had always been when they delivered the weekly egg supply to her parents’ convenience store. Rodney’s wife, Lucinda, had smelled like cinnamon. She’d told Nell she had strong, capable hands, and that she’d make a good farmer.

The next time Nell went to Seabend, she brought along a blanket and jacket for Rodney. When she found him on a bench in a small park, he looked like he was a dried-up old twig the wind had blown along the sidewalk. He accepted her gifts, but she could tell he was embarrassed. While eating the hot lunch she insisted he have, she learned Lucinda had died a few months earlier. Since then he couldn’t stand living at the farm. A week later, rain settled in for a few days, and Nell returned to Seabend and found him huddled in a doorway, shaking. Whatever the cause of his shakes, he needed help. She convinced him to go home with her for a few days, just until he was feeling better.

“Who lives on the second floor?”

Nell snapped back to attention. “Mrs. Trembley. She says she’s seventy-four, but I suspect she’s older. She and your aunt were…friends.” If bickering could be called a sport, they’d been the champions. With Beulah’s passing, Mrs. T. had started to fade. She no longer had color in her cheeks from the heat of an argument. And she’d stopped dyeing her hair because who else could she goad by saying she looked ten years younger?

“Friends.” Tanner closed his eyes as if he had a headache. “Rent?”

“Four hundred,” she murmured.

His eyes shot open, their dark beam accusing. “What did you say?”

Nell fisted her hands on her hips. “Your aunt may have been…difficult, but she was kind in her own way.” Unlike her nephew, apparently. “Mrs. Trembley is old, and she doesn’t have a family. It’s only a one-bedroom. You couldn’t get much more for it than four hundred.”

WELL. WELL. LITTLE MISS NELLIE had a temper. With anger flushing her cheeks and those disturbing green eyes sparking, she was beautiful. Earlier, he’d been mesmerized by the overalls she’d had on. She’d worn a cropped shirt under them, and the brief, teasing glimpses of her flat midriff disappearing into the dark folds of the overalls had been, to put it mildly, distracting.

Thank goodness she’d changed because Nell Hart’s smooth skin was the last thing he should be thinking about. Instead of the financial asset he needed, he’d inherited a houseful of charity cases and a crumbling mansion. Somehow, something would have to change. He had to make this—for lack of a better word—apartment house, a paying venture. It was the only way he’d be able to sell it for the price he needed.

“Melody Northrop lives in 2B.”

“And?”

Nell smiled. “She’s single and beautiful and pays six hundred a month.”

He tucked away his answering smile. It was the first time Nell had offered information willingly. Jordan recognized the tactic; get the bad news over with, then soften it up with some good news. He’d let the caretaker bit blind him; she was clearly a great deal smarter than he’d thought.

“That’s a relief to hear.” But not exactly inspiring. Hard to believe in his neighborhood, which was only forty minutes away, one-bedrooms cost between two and three thousand a month. But as the real-estate agent had pointed out, this was Waterside, not Seabend. Not only were they close to the ocean here, but when the wind blew from the right—or wrong—direction, the smell of manure on the farmers’ fields was also very much apparent.

That was the strange thing about the east coast of Canada. Million-dollar homes rubbed shoulders with old homesteads. People with money were moving into the area, but the farming families were still reluctant to sell off their acreage, even if it meant living in poverty. That kind of sentiment was frustrating, but opportunities were finally opening up. In twenty years, Waterside would be the next Seabend. If Jordan handled the sale the right way, the house could be a potential gold mine.

For now, six hundred for a one-bedroom was acceptable. Five hundred for a two-bedroom was not. Even for an in-house handyman. Handywoman. As he watched Nell check the lock on the living room window, he wondered if Aunt Beulah had grown soft in her old age. From the little he remembered about his aunt, the crusty old wing nut had been as tightfisted as they come. What had Nell Hart done for the old lady that an off-site handyman couldn’t? She was a major impediment to the sale of the monstrosity. With the poor condition of the house, he’d be lucky to find a buyer for it, but no one would be willing to take on the house plus a live-in caretaker. She had to go, and he, lucky man that he was, would have to tell her.

“You could probably get a bit more for this apartment. It is a three-bedroom.”

He went to the door and waited for her. “I’d like to see the bedsit now.”

“I need some time to clean it up. It’s not ready.” She gripped the window ledge as if she expected him to drag her from the apartment. Interesting. What or who did she have stashed in the bedsit? Jordan started to smile. Miss Nellie could prove to be an entertaining diversion during his temporary stint here.

“I need to see if it’s big enough for me to live in. Otherwise, I might have to evict someone.” If he had a mustache, he would have twirled it. He didn’t plan on evicting anyone—yet. One way or another, he’d fit into the bedsit.

“What?”

“I’m moving in until the house sells. I’m a hands-on kind of guy.” He made sure his smile had a bite to it, just enough to make her wonder whether he was joking or not.

“But that’s…” Not going to work. Definitely not for him. He wasn’t looking forward to leaving his condo to live in this firetrap. And by the look on Miss Nellie’s face, it wasn’t working for her, either.

CHAPTER TWO

“YOU’RE LEAVING ALL THOSE clothes here?” Alex asked as he stared into Jordan’s closet.

Trying to ignore his headache, Jordan zipped up the suitcase. “I’m only going to be forty minutes away. I’ll be dropping in from time to time.”

He’d arrived home last night in a black mood to find Alex waiting for him with a bottle of Scotch to celebrate their first joint business venture. As he watched his friend shove his clothes to one end of the closet and start hanging up his own suits, he tried to recall how he’d allowed Alex to convince him to sublet his condo. Alex insisted he was doing him a favor by taking the place off his hands for the next few months, but Jordan had seen him working a deal too many times not to know when he’d been played. Which was exactly why he wanted Alex as a business partner; the guy knew how to work the angles. He wasn’t sure how he felt about him moving in on his personal turf, though.

“The sooner you clear out the riffraff, the sooner we sell, and you can move back here.” Alex hummed as he hung up one of his suits. “It’s a good idea for you to move in. Sounds like you have a lot of house cleaning to do.”

Jordan scooped up an armload of books he’d selected a couple days ago and stacked them in an empty box. “You’re working with a real-estate agent to get the house listed, right? And coming up with our own list of potential clients, as well?”

“I am, but you’d get a higher price if the house showed a profit. It’s the live-in caretaker who’s the worst. She either has to go or start paying market rent.”

Jordan’s queasiness spiked. Not only was he going to live on Dunstan Lane to monitor the situation and the repairs, but he had to find a way to get rid of Nell and her kids. Yeah, he was really looking forward to the next few months.

“Just keep your eye on the ball,” Alex cautioned. “In the past year alone there were three businesses we could have bought into if we’d had the capital. Selling the house is going to make it possible for us to branch out on our own. Don’t forget that.”

“Not going to happen.” Not after he’d worked so hard to get this far. He was often accused of being too focused, but without backup, he couldn’t afford to relax. The consquences were immediate, sometimes permanent. He’d moved on from his poverty-stricken childhood. The only direction he planned to travel now was up—after selling the house.

“Good. So, any chance Sandra will show up at your door?”

“No.” Jordan stacked a few more books in the box.

“I thought things were heating up between you.”

“They’re not.” And he didn’t understand why. Logically, Sandra was the perfect woman for him. She was a consultant at the same firm as him and Alex, but worked in marketing, while he was a turn-around consultant. Often they worked on the same account. Jordan went in first, assessed the company’s problems, looked for ways to improve efficiency and cut costs and helped the owners write a new business plan. Sandra was all about strengthening the clients’ brand, keeping them in front of their intended audience.

They worked well together, enjoyed each other’s company, and had the same drive for successs. If that wasn’t enough, she was a beautiful woman, and she’d let him know she wouldn’t mind if they spent more time together outside office hours. It should have added up to the perfect relationship. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what else he needed, but something held him back from committing to her. It made him uneasy to think about it, so he tried not to. In any case, he wasn’t ready to get involved in anything serious at this point in his life. He had business to attend to.

“She’s smart, she’s foxy and she wants what you want. Money, success and all the trimmings. You’re nuts, man. Unless you’ve been holding out on me. Should I expect any other girlfriends showing up at the door?”

“No.” Jordan stalked into the bathroom to escape Alex’s cheerful tone. Bad enought the guy was moving onto his turf while he was stuck at the old Victorian, now he was angling for his woman, too.

WHEN JORDAN DROVE UP to the side entrance of the Victorian two hours later, dark clouds scudded across the sky, threatening more rain. Everything looked sodden, even the closed-up sunflower that peeked around the corner of the building.

One of Nell’s projects likely; she seemed like the sunflower type. She’d managed to skinny out of showing him the bedsit yesterday when Mrs. Trembley had started thumping on the second-story floor with her cane. The elderly tenant declared she’d been waiting hours to meet him and wasn’t willing to wait a minute longer. He’d been polite but distant and had cut the interview short, having had a bellyful of 879 Dunstan Lane by then. He couldn’t wait to get back to his condo where he didn’t know his next-door neighbors. Didn’t have to know them, didn’t care to know them. No clutter, no fuss. Just the way he liked it. Except with Alex living there now, the place didn’t feel like his anymore. He’d forgotten how lousy it felt not to know where you belonged.

Using the key Nell had given him yesterday, he opened the outside door to the room that was to be his home for however long it took to sell the house. At least the bedsit had its own private entrance. The other tenants shared an inside hallway and staircase, but he could come and go without having to talk to anyone.

He sighed; there wasn’t enough space to breathe, let alone live inside the room. Everything looked too small and drab—the bathroom wedged in one corner, the tiny kitchenette strung along the back wall. Worse, all the complaining in the world wasn’t going to change the fact that he’d elected to stay here.

He kicked a chrome, sixties-style kitchen chair that didn’t look as if it would hold his weight. Okay, he ate out more nights than not, so the kitchen wasn’t a big deal. And as long as he had lots of hot water and good pressure, he could handle banging his elbows against the sides of the shower. The bed, a lumpy couch that pulled out into a double—or so Nell had assured him—didn’t begin to pass muster. He’d have to buy a new mattress. No telling what was living in this one.

He dropped his suitcases in front of the only closet as water pipes screeched overhead. He shuddered and shoved open a window. The room smelled of damp clothes and disinfectant; it needed a good scrubbing. That was a caretaker’s job, right?

His mood brightened until he remembered he had to tell Nell about the rent increases. With the expense of raising two small children, he imagined paying a higher rent was going to put a serious dent in her budget. With that in mind, he’d decided to hold off for a couple more weeks before tackling the issue of her caretaker position. It didn’t make sense to keep her on staff when all he had to do was hire a tradesman from time to time to do repairs. Eventually, he’d have to let her go.

Best-case scenario, he’d come up with a solution before he had to fire her. He had a lot of contacts and planned to start looking for a better job for her as soon as he found out what skills she had to offer. Who could resist more money and a nicer place to live? He knew at least two people who owned newly renovated apartment buildings. One of them owed him big-time.

“Anyone home?” A quick rap of knuckles, and the outside door popped open. “Sorry to barge in. It’s started raining again.” A gorgeous redhead burst into the room, followed by a small girl who hung back in the doorway.

The leggy redhead thrust a bouquet of flowers toward him. “Welcome. I’m Melody from 2B. Close the door, Lacey. You’re letting the rain in.” She strode over to the kitchen and started going through cupboards as if she lived there. “No vase. I was afraid of that. I’ll run upstairs and get one.”

She dashed for the door. “Oh, this is Lacey. Lacey, this is…I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten your name. Jason? Justin?”

Melody from 2B smiled, and the day brightened. “I’m, ah…Jordan Tanner.” Way to go, forgetting his own name. “Nice to meet you.” He shook her hand. “And, thanks.” He held up the flowers grasped in his other hand.

“Nell didn’t mention you were so good-looking. I swear that woman needs to get…” She stopped, sparing a sideways glance at the little girl. “Lacey, entertain the gentleman. And take off that wet coat. Nell will kill me if you catch a cold. I’ll be right back.” When the redheaded vision whirled out of the room, Jordan stared at the child who looked small enough to fold up and put in his pocket. She had her mother’s big green eyes, but her curls were fair instead of Nell’s dark hair.

Lacey took off her wet raincoat and carefully hung it over the back of a chair. Looking like a little pink puff ball, topped with frothy blond curls, she smoothed her hands over her pink leotard and adjusted the feathery thing around her neck.

“Hello, Mr. Jordan. It’s nice to meet you.” Jordan couldn’t help smiling as he shook her tiny hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Lacey. Are you a ballerina?”

“Yes. Would you like me to dance?”

“Maybe we should go find Melody first.” He knew squat about kids except they came with a ton of rules. What he did know was Nell had almost killed him yesterday when he’d tried to talk to Jacob. No doubt she’d go ballistic if she found him alone with her precious Lacey.

“Melody will be right back. She’s on the phone.” Lacey dropped a deep curtsy.

“How do you know that?”

When Lacey pointed at the ceiling, Jordan grimaced at the low murmur of someone talking upstairs. Another wave of wet wool, and—what was that smell, mold?—hit him. It felt as though he were light-years, not mere miles, from his condo.

“Look, I’m a kitty cat.”

Lacey hopped and twirled around the room. She didn’t remotely remind him of a cat, but she looked so earnest and serious, he smiled encouragement whenever she glanced his way. Which was often. After a few minutes of watching her twirl on one spot, Jordan started to worry. If memory served him right, kids spewed from far less agitation.

“Lacey? Maybe you better—”

Lacey came to an abrupt halt and flung herself into a heap on the floor. Her head drooped down to her chest. She didn’t make a sound.

“Um…that was an incredible dance. Thank you.” He clapped, hoping the blond curls would stir.

After waiting for a couple of minutes, he reached down to her limp body and wrapped his hand around her amazingly tiny arm. “Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?”

Like a firecracker, she crackled and fizzed to life as she shot to her feet. “Did I scare ya?” Winding her tiny body around one of his legs, she beamed up at him. Her damp curls framed her sweet, round baby face. Her eyes were so alive with childish delight, Jordan felt a twinge. A twinge of what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe a long forgotten memory from his own childhood. Surely there had been good days before he understood his life was never going to be like the other kids. He shoved the past down, out of sight where it belonged.

He smiled at Lacey, gently tried to shake her off. She giggled and wound her arms tighter around his leg. He started to shove his hands in his jean pockets but ended up sticking them under his armpits.

“Maybe you want to let go of my leg.”

She continued to beam at him as if he’d invented the sun. “Why?”

“Well.” He cleared his throat. “We just met, and it’s not a good idea to…with people you’ve just met it’s maybe better…” He had no idea where he was going with the sentence. Lacey twinkled up at him.

“I have to go to the washroom.” Genius solution. As they grinned at each other, the door banged open.

Nell stood in the doorway, hands on her hips. “What’s going on here?”

Lacey let go of his leg and ran over to wrap herself around Nell’s legs instead. Feeling as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have, Jordan scowled at the twin sets of green eyes staring at him. The indomitable duo. Man, if those two sunk their hooks into some poor, clueless guy, he’d be a goner. Thank God he wasn’t susceptible to that kind of thing.

“I was dancing for Mr. Jordan,” Lacey explained.

“The bunny dance,” Jordan added. “It’s fascinating. Have you seen it?”

A smile slowly spread over Nell’s face. As he watched her body relax against Lacey, he felt as if he’d passed some kind of test. “I think you mean the kitty cat dance. Where’s Melody, Lacey?”

“Here,” Melody called from the doorway. “I got caught on the phone.” She turned to Nell. “I have a four-thirty appointment. I’ll have to take a rain check for dinner. Sorry. Nice to meet you, Jason.”

“Jordan,” he murmured.

She turned back from the door and smiled at him. “I knew that. Oh, here’s the vase. You know, if you’re really nice to these two ladies, maybe they’ll invite you to dinner. I hear their exalted dinner guest bailed.”

A bell rang in the deep recesses of the house. “That’s my four-thirty already. Damn that man, he’s always so needy. Later, all.” Melody slammed out of the room. A moment later, Jordan heard her talking to a man as they ascended the stairs.

He turned to Nell and raised his eyebrows. “Is this something I should be worried about?” If Melody was a call girl he needed to know. That was the kind of thing that could easily scare off potential buyers. He watched Nell closely, waiting for her reply. He didn’t think she’d outright lie to him, but neither would she hesitate to protect her friend by not telling the entire truth.

“Do you like curry?” Lacey had crept back to his side and slid her hand into his.

“Um…” He shot a look at Nell, but her face was blank. No help there. “Sure. What kind of curry?”

“Chicken.”

“Did someone say curry? I adore curry, especially, chicken curry.” Mrs. Trembley stumped into the room on short thick legs that, unfortunately, her bright blue-and-red-plaid shorts didn’t cover. She was followed by a frail-looking older man. Had Nell mentioned anything about Mrs. Trembley having a husband?

Nell’s shoulders drooped for a second before she pasted a smile on and turned to Mrs. Trembley.

“Rodney! You’re here, too. Jordan, this is Rodney. He’s a friend of Mrs. Trembley’s.”

“He’s staying with me for a while. Just until he’s feeling better. Isn’t that right, Rodney?” Jordan winced when Mrs. Trembley poked Rodney in his painfully thin ribs.

Rodney nodded in Jordan’s direction but avoided eye contact. He looked as though he was about to pull his forelock and bend a knee. Jordan looked around the crowded room. His crowded room. He already had tenants of every possible description. Why not throw an English servant into the mix?

“I’m hungry.” Lacey tugged on his hand.

Nell headed for the door. “I’ll have to cook more rice and see what else I have on hand. Come on, Lacey. Jacob’s waiting upstairs.”

It didn’t even occur to her to say no. Amazing. Jordan stepped sideways to block her exit. “Ever hear about takeout?”

“Takeout?” Nell repeated. The room grew suspiciously quiet. “It costs too much. I mean, there’re four of us, two of them. Melody will want to eat once she smells the food, even though she claims she’s bailed. No, it’s okay. I’ll cook more rice, and see what else I can throw together.”

He felt a jolt as he caught her arm just above her wrist to stop her. Their eyes connected for a second, a look of surprise and cautious curiosity passing between them before she pulled away. “I saw an Indian restaurant a few blocks over when I was driving here. I’ll order some food and pick it up while you cook the rice. It’ll be my treat. Sort of a new-landlord get-to-know-you meal. Anything I shouldn’t get?”

“Just make sure all the sauces are mild,” Mrs. Trembley piped up. “Too much spice gives me gas.”

That was a detail he could have done without. When no one else offered any objections to him buying dinner, Jordan shoved the flowers in the vase and splashed some water in it, then snagged his jacket and went outside. He was about to dash to his car when he realized he’d left most of his tenants in his apartment. He turned back, held the door open. “If everyone’s finished in here?”

Mrs. Trembley shuffled out with Rodney following like a faithful dog. Lacey skipped after them, her raincoat draped over her head. Nell stopped at the door, a crease forming between her eyebrows as she frowned up at him.

“I’m sorry you got pulled into this dinner thing. If you want to bail, I’ll tell the crew you had a former engagement. I can scrounge together enough food for everyone. It’s not a problem.”

His tough little caretaker was trying to protect him from his tenants. Unbelievable. Or, he narrowed his eyes, she didn’t want him talking to them for some reason. She’d said it herself, Aunt Beulah hadn’t paid attention to anything unless it directly affected her. God knows what Nell had been up to the past two years; charging for repairs that hadn’t been done. Or for building materials never used, then refunded. There were a number of ways for her to skim extra money off the top. Miss Nellie had been running things her way for too long. She was about to discover what it was like to have someone else in charge.

“As I said, it’ll give me a chance to get to know everyone better. Unless, of course, it’s too much work for you. You didn’t plan on having so many people for supper.” He smiled, waiting to see if she would take the bait and wiggle out of the invitation.

“I can handle it if you can.” She gave him a quick two-finger salute and scooted out the door.

She’d passed with flying colors. He didn’t know whether to be reassured or not as he flipped up his collar against the rain and ran for his car. Dinner at Dunstan Lane. Not what he’d call a hot Saturday-night date, but it was a necessary one. He needed to find out if Miss Nellie was as sweet as she seemed or if she’d been lining her pockets with the monthly operating budget. If there even was a monthly budget. What if Beulah had left Nell a pot of money to use at her discretion? Could she have been that batty?

He climbed into his car and with an unfamiliar weariness, wiped the rain from his face. He also needed to know more about his tenants so he wouldn’t be blindsided by any unsavory details, like an illegal prostitution ring or…at this point, the imagination was the limit.

As a business consultant he was used to not only assessing tangible assets but personalities, as well. He’d have the tenants of Dunstan Lane categorized, lined up and flying straight before the week was over. Buying dinner was a good place to start.

SWEAT TRICKLED DOWN THE MIDDLE of Nell’s back as she whipped around her small kitchen. She’d planned to have a long, hot soak in the bath tonight while Jacob and Lacey watched the movie she’d rented for them, not prepare and serve a meal for six—or seven if Melody showed up. And especially not for Jordan Tanner. She grabbed a stack of plates out of the cupboard and placed them on the small table along with the cutlery and napkins. Water, tea or coffee would have to suffice. She could barely afford to buy juice for the kids let alone wine or beer for guests. She placed the coffeepot under the tap and turned on the water.

For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why she was so stressed about having everyone over for dinner. Mrs. T. had a habit of popping up close to supper time once or twice a week, and Rodney… Nell sighed. Taking on two small children should have been enough for anyone. Melody liked to tease her that she’d taken the role of caretaker to heart. She had to learn how to say no more often.

And now she had Tanner to deal with. Not that he needed her help, but he was a man who had a certain presence. A man who would take up way too much space in her already crowded life.

And wasn’t that a shame?

Three years ago, it might have been a different story. Yeah, right. Who was she kidding? She’d never circulated with the yuppie crowd. She’d always had her hands stuck in the soil or had been cramming in as many lectures as she could after work on landscape design or plant propagation.

Not that she didn’t still have aspirations. She lingered over the word for a minute; it had such a hopeful sound. But Jacob and Lacey’s welfare came first now, which meant her dreams would have to wait. Anyone with half a brain could see Tanner was going places, expensive places. Dunstan Lane was a means to an end for him. For Nell, Dunstan Lane was familiar and secure, a home for her and the kids.

“I think you’ve got enough water, Nell,” Jacob commented from his station by the kitchen doorway.

Startled, Nell pulled the coffeepot from under the stream of water. “Did you make your bed?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why I can’t have a lock on my door. Mrs. T. always snoops around.”

She dumped coffee grinds into the machine and turned it on, the muscles in her neck cranking tighter. “We’ve been over this, Jacob. I need to know I can get into your room in case you hurt yourself.”

“If we bought a lock with two keys, you could have one and go into my room when you want.”

The child drove her nuts with his logic. In the beginning, she’d tried reasoning with him when they disagreed. But she’d soon learned Jacob could outreason anyone, and much to her chagrin, she resorted more often than not to the dreaded because-I-said-so refrain.

“That’s a good point. I’ll think about it.” Another empty phrase that didn’t fool either of them. From the corner of her eye, she watched Jacob drum his fist against the doorjamb.

“Are you upset people are coming for dinner?”

“No.” Rap, rap.

“Do you like Mr. Tanner?”

He rounded one shoulder. “I guess. Do you?”

Nell blew out her breath and leaned against the counter. “I haven’t made up my mind yet.” Truth was there was way too much to like about him. Other than trying to bribe Jacob, he’d been unfailingly kind and courteous. When everyone else had heard the mention of food, they’d lined up at the trough. Tanner, on the other hand, had offered to help by paying for the meal. A meal she wouldn’t have to prepare other than dumping it into serving dishes. Imagine having someone like that to lean on once in a while.

She straightened her spine. No need to get carried away. Tanner was taking advantage of the opportunity to check them out. How long would it take for Mrs. T. to insult him or Rodney to let slip that he’d been staying in the bedsit rent-free? Now that he’d moved in, she’d have to be on guard all the time, and the only way to get rid of him was if the house sold. Lord, she wasn’t ready for any of this. “We probably won’t see too much of him,” she said to Jacob. “He’s a busy man.”

“Yeah.” Jacob started to leave the room but turned back. “Nell?”

Finally they were going to get down to what was bothering her little man. “What is it, sweetie?”

“Dad called. You said to tell you if he did.”

Nell stopped short of slamming the cupboard door shut. The closer Tony got to his parole hearing the more often he phoned. She tried to intercept his calls, but he was their father and her lawyer had cautioned her to treat him with kid gloves until the adoption went through. Especially now, because of the complaints he’d lodged with Child Welfare.

Nell had never understood what her sister had seen in him. Tony had the uncanny ability to know within minutes of meeting someone exactly how to hurt that person the most. But he was careful whom he chose to abuse.

Jacob and Lacey were often sullen and withdrawn after talking to him, and no wonder. The man was poison. The day her sister died, she promised herself she would do whatever was necessary to keep her niece and nephew in her custody. That promise was turning out to be a lot harder to keep than she’d anticipated.

Nell threaded her fingers together as she prepared to pick through the minefield that existed between Jacob and Tony. “How is he?”

Her question was met with a shrug. “He said he wants to see Lacey and me.”

Why? She bit back the word before it popped out. “What did you say?”

“That I’d ask you.” His eyes grew red.

“Oh, honey.” She moved to hug him, but he jerked out of reach. Having been on the receiving end of Tony’s vindictive tirades many times, she knew how deep his words could cut. It hurt that there was nothing she could say to ease Jacob’s pain.

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Later, after everyone was gone, she’d try to get Jacob to talk about his father. She grabbed him, gave him a quick hug and a whispered “I love you,” then let him escape into his room while she answered the door.

JORDAN DELIVERED THE CARTONS of food to the kitchen and retreated to the living room when Melody elbowed him out of the way. Guess the smell of food had reached all the way down to her apartment. Whatever her “client” had needed, it hadn’t taken long to satisfy. Jacob had disappeared somewhere, smart fellow, and Lacey was serving Mrs. Trembley watered-down tea in teacups the size of his thumb.

He sat on the opposite end of the couch from Rodney and accepted a thimbleful of tea from Lacey. He’d anticipated this dinner to be more like a meeting, but everything felt way too cozy for his comfort. How was he supposed to calculate assets and ulterior motives when a little girl was serving him tea, for Pete’s sake?

Although Nell’s apparent fatigue had prompted him to offer to buy takeout, he’d realized on the way to the restaurant, it would also earn him brownie points with Nell and get supper over more quickly. He needed to see the books, ask her what the profit margin was, what kind of budget she worked with, and what shape the old house was in.

He wrinkled his nose and studied Rodney. The old man smelled musty, the same moth-eaten stink that was in Jordan’s room. As Jordan started to smile, Rodney smiled in return, giving him a glimpse of the man he used to be. That was why Nell refused to show him the room yesterday; Rodney had been living there. It also explained why he was staying with Mrs. Trembley. With his new insight, Jordan’s mind raced over everything that had happened in the past two days. He’d assumed these were normal people, but he should have known better; normal wasn’t Aunt Beulah’s style. He’d better check the basement and any outbuildings in case Miss Nellie had a whole colony of misfits squirreled away.

Nell peeked into the room. There were dark circles under her eyes, but she kept her tone upbeat. “Dinner is ready. It’s self-serve.”

Jordan’s appetite suddenly disappeared. Nell shouldn’t let people take advantage of her, bringing up two children alone was more than enough responsibility. He could help with that. Not the kids, but the taking advantage part. He was good at maneuvering people around to his point of view. Mrs. Trembley and Rodney wouldn’t know what hit them. As for Melody…

What was he thinking? He was the worst culprit of all. If Alex found a buyer tomorrow, Nell and the kids would have to go or start paying a much higher rent. He’d been working his butt off, hoping for a break since he was fifteen, and inheriting this house was as close as he was going to get.

Okay, maybe his mom’s life would have been better if someone had held out a helping hand. But no one had, at least not in time to save her, and he’d survived. Hell, he’d thrived. Nell and her children would, too. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to find a way around the whole mess.

He stood, rolled his head back and forth to ease his aching neck muscles. There was a solution to every problem. He just had to find it.

NELL WEARILY LIFTED HER HEAD from the couch when the door to the apartment creaked open. Tanner had left in his sparkly, expensive car two hours ago. Hopefully, he hadn’t returned already with more questions. She didn’t think he bought the story about Rodney staying with Mrs. T.

Melody slipped into the living room and beamed at her, her hands behind her back. “Guess what I have.”

Nell pulled herself upright. “A magic wand to make Tanner go away?”

“They do sell wands at work. And there’s this guy who comes into the store who’s into magic. I wonder if I—”

“Is that a cold beer?”

“Voilà.” Melody brandished a beer in her direction. “One for both of us. I thought you’d appreciate it after that excruciating supper. I was sitting on pins and needles waiting for Mrs. T. to start one of her tirades. And Jordan is so intense. Amazingly good-looking, but wow, the waves of energy he gives off.” She sat on a padded stool and opened her beer.

Nell took a long, appreciative swallow of hers. “Intense. That’s one way to describe him.”

“And hot,” Melody added.

“I wish he’d go be hot somewhere else.”

Melody wiggled her eyebrows. “He got to you, did he?”

“I’m tired, not dead. I think he even got Mrs. T. worked up. Did you see how much lipstick she layered on? How about you? Tanner do anything for you?” She held her breath, as if Melody’s answer were important. Which was silly, if Melody wanted to dally with Tanner, it wasn’t any of her business.

“He’s not my type.”

“Not mine, either.” Nell took another drink and put the bottle on the coffee table in front of her.

“Things are going to change, Nell. We knew that when Beulah died.”

“I know. I just didn’t expect…Tanner. He’s so take-charge. So focused.”

Melody smiled. “Kind of like the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?”

“You think I’m bossy?”

Melody’s smile disappeared. “I’ve watched you fight hard to keep everything on an even keel the past two years. Which is understandable, considering what you and the kids have been through. But you can’t control the entire world. Sometimes you have to go with the flow.”

Nell pleated the bottom edge of her cotton blouse. “You think I should give up without a fight?”

“I think you should give Jordan a chance. Who knows, maybe something good could come out of this.”

“You’re trying to set me up with him.” Nell laughed at the absurd idea.

“All I’m saying is, why does change always have to be a bad thing? Why can’t you have fun with it?”

Nell smiled. Melody was a good-time girl who reminded Nell to laugh when life turned weird. She did silly things like buy them secondhand cocktail dresses and insist they dress up and go out for a drink, if only for an hour. Or slip her delicious romance novels that Nell read late at night instead of how-to books. She discussed Harry Potter for hours with Jacob and bought Lacey’s pink ballet outfit. Over the past two years, she’d slowly filled the hole left from the death of Nell’s sister. She liked that Melody made her look at things differently. Not that she was right about Tanner. Nothing was going to happen there.

“You’re one to talk,” Nell countered. “I have the kids. What’s your excuse for hanging around here instead of going out and having fun?”

“I’m still recovering from Peter What’s-his-name. Talk about a total lack of judgment. I’m not looking at another man until I know for certain he’s the one.”

Nell leaned her chin on her hand. “You think there’s The One for everyone?”

“There is for you.”

She let the comment pass. She didn’t want her fortune told tonight, or any other night. “I think Tanner plans to sell the house.”

“I was afraid of that. Has he said anything definite?”

“No, but he almost had a heart attack when I told him what I was paying for rent. I don’t know what I’m going to do if he raises it. Any other time, I’d suck it up and look for a cheaper apartment, but right now… Tony’s been phoning the kids again. I know he’s up to something. He’s not getting those kids. I don’t care if he is their father. He’s an abusive alcoholic, and Jacob and Lacey are not living with him. Ever.” She gulped back the fear in her throat.

Melody sat beside her and slipped her arm around Nell’s shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. There are far worse things than looking for new digs. And Tanner, sure he’s focused, but I think underneath that polished exterior lives a good man. Tell him about the adoption. A few weeks one way or the other, what difference does it make to him for selling the house? He’ll understand.” She smiled. “After the adoption, we’ll look for a new apartment together. No way am I staying here without you and the kids.”

Nell leaned against her friend for a second before pulling away. Melody was right. They’d survive moving, could maybe even afford a nicer place with Melody sharing the rent. But not until the children were legally hers. The social worker had emphasized over and over the need to provide a stable home atmosphere. Jacob and Lacey had been in this apartment for two years now, half of Lacey’s life. Moving was bound to stir up some of the anxieties they’d worked hard to leave behind. Jacob had already reverted to hiding in his tent, although he’d dismantled it before people came for dinner.

She picked up her bottle and drank the last of her beer. At the very least, she’d try to convince Tanner to delay the sale of the house. Maybe Melody was right. Maybe he’d understand.

CHAPTER THREE

A SCREECH JERKED JORDAN out of a deep sleep the next morning. He blinked at the alarm clock. Eight o’clock. It was the weekend, wasn’t it? Forty miles and a universe away, his condo would be quieter than a church.

Another screech ripped through his open window, followed by a full belly laugh. “You’re it.”

Jordan groaned as he burrowed into his pillow. That would be Jacob. The laugh, no doubt, was Nell’s.

“Am not. You didn’t touch me.” Lacey, his little kitty cat.

Jordan catapulted out of bed, pulled on a pair of jeans and stalked to the window. His kitty cat? Man, one day and the place was driving him nuts already.

A reluctant smile spread over his face as he watched Nell let Lacey tackle her to the ground. Jacob piled on top of them with a whoop. All he could see of Nell was one hand waving in the air, and her overalls-clad legs.

A memory of his mom playing tag with him in a park blindsided him. She’d take him to the park down the street early on Saturday mornings before whatever lout she’d hauled home the previous night woke up. He lived for those mornings with his mom. How could he have forgotten them? He snapped the blind closed. He hoped Nell changed her clothes after breakfast. He needed to talk to her this morning, and he didn’t want any distractions.

A giggle from outside followed him as he wandered over to the kitchen corner and dug his espresso machine out of a box. As soon as he talked to Nell, he was out of here. He didn’t know where he was going, just that he was. A solid twenty-four-hour stint at Dunstan Lane was more than enough; the walls were closing in on him. He already knew way more than he wanted to about his tenants, and yet he knew next to nothing about Nell. He’d hoped to talk to her last night, but after supper she’d explained she and the children had a winding-down-the-day routine that was important to adhere to. She didn’t have time for him. Well she’d better make time this morning or he’d have to let her know who was boss. He dumped water and coffee into the machine, turned it on and headed for the shower.

A lukewarm trickle of water dripped down on him. “Oh, come on.” He thumped on the side of the shower-head, regretting his action as the sound of cheap metal reverberated through his head. Hell. He peered at the taps. Yup, that was supposed to be hot water. He turned the tap off and tried the other one. An even smaller trickle of cold water eked out.

Starting the day without a shower was not acceptable. But it was his first morning, and obviously there were a few kinks that had to be worked out. He splashed cold water on his face and reached for a towel that wasn’t there. Okay, maybe he needed to unpack before heading out. He’d have a coffee, then corner Nell and find out what the problem was with the water. At least he’d had enough water for coffee.

But no milk. Jordan slammed the refrigerator door closed. He took a sip of black coffee and spit it out. He could throw back shots of Scotch, bourbon and tequila, but he could not drink his coffee without milk. Without thinking, he strode to the door and threw it open.

“Nell!” he bellowed.

The three of them froze midchase. Nell’s eyes were as round as saucers as she swiveled toward him. For God’s sake, the overalls were bad enough, did she have to wear another damned cropped shirt?

She rushed toward him. “Are you okay?”

And suddenly, just like that, he was.

NELL STOPPED A FEW FEET short of Jordan. Wowzers! Her lungs collapsed, devoid of oxygen. Of course she’d seen half-naked men before. But this…Jordan’s chest…. She bent over at the waist and tried to catch her breath. Hopefully, he’d think she was winded from playing with the kids, not overwhelmed by the sight of his magnificent torso. She slowly straightened and just as slowly, sucked in some air. His shoulders were wide, his chest broad with a sprinkling of dark hair that very nicely arrowed down over a flat tummy and disappeared into his low-riding jeans.

She peeled her tongue off the top of her mouth and managed to tear her gaze away from all that manly muscle and skin. She raised her eyebrows. “Problems?”

“You do know it’s the weekend, don’t you? Some people like to sleep in. It’s not even nine o’clock.”

Nell tried to hide her smile. It looked like someone had the grouchies. “Children don’t sleep in. Ever. But—” she held up her hand to halt his protest “—because this is your first day, we’ll be nice and move our games elsewhere. Okay?”

His scowl deepened. “I’m sorry for grumbling, but I got off to a bad start. There’s no water and I don’t have any milk for my coffee.”

She swallowed a curse. How many times had she asked Mrs. T. to wait to do her laundry until midafternoon when most of them were out of the house? Maybe she should send Tanner up there to chew her out.

“Jacob.” She twisted round and beckoned him over.

Jacob smiled shyly at their new landlord. “Hey, Mr. Tanner. Look, the sun’s out finally.”

Tanner looked around the side yard as if seeing it for the first time. “Yeah, nice day.” He turned to Nell. “Is this a double lot? Can you subdivide here?”

Unbelievable. The guy probably never switched off. “Jacob, would you run upstairs and get Mr. Tanner the milk? Lacey?” She curled her arm around the sweaty little girl when she ran to Nell’s side. “I have to go down to the basement to fix the pump. You can stay outside, but you have to play in the backyard. Okay?”

Lacey nodded, her eyes glued to Tanner’s chest. “Is he naked, Nell?”

Nell choked back a laugh as red stained Tanner’s cheeks. “No, sweetpea. Naked is when you’re not wearing anything. Like when you get out of the bath.” Or make love. She felt her own cheeks flush at the thought.

She ruffled Lacey’s hair. “Okay, backyard for you, little one, while I see what I can do about the water.”

“Hang on. Let me grab a shirt and some shoes. I wanted to look at the basement today, anyway.”

Nell fidgeted as she waited for Tanner to get dressed. She hoped he was more interested in looking around the basement than helping her, because it was a tight squeeze in the corner where the pump was. And a tight squeeze was exactly what she needed to avoid when it came to her landlord. She had a long list of reasons for keeping him at a distance, and right at the top were the children and not giving Tony any reason to interfere with the adoption. It would be just like the rat to send a couple of his friends to sniff around her life to see if they could find any weakness.

When Tony had first gone to jail he’d been so full of remorse for killing Mary, he’d signed over legal guardianship of the children to Nell. But with his first chance for parole coming up, he was looking for ways to get them back. Nell had no illusions as to why Tony wanted Jacob and Lacey. He thought he had a better chance for parole if he could say they were waiting for their daddy. Even though drinking with his buddies had always held more interest for him than spending time with his kids. To top it off, he was a mean drunk. Despite the warm morning air, Nell shivered. Rescuing Mary and the kids when Tony was on the rampage had increased in frequency the last year of her sister’s life.

But when Mary had sworn things were going better with her marriage, Nell let herself be convinced and had agreed to go away for that long-delayed weekend with her boyfriend, Barry. She hadn’t been there when Mary needed her the most, and her sister had died. Nell intended to make up for that mistake until her last breath, but she still didn’t think it would be enough.

Strike two. It had happened before. People she loved had died because she’d let them down. It was never going to happen again.

She stuck her hands in her pockets and rolled back on her heels. Her life was one big complicated mess. And getting worse by the minute.

Tanner strode out of his apartment at the same time Jacob returned with the milk. His “Thanks, man,” earned him a big grin from her little boy.

Jacob hitched up his jeans. “Need any help, Nell?”

Her heart softened at his manly offer. “I’ll manage. Thanks. Can you keep an eye on Lacey for a few minutes?”

“Sure thing. See ya, Mr. Tanner.”

“Jacob?” Jacob turned back to Tanner.

“Yeah?”

“Call me Jordan, okay, pal?”

If his grin got any wider, Jacob’s face would split. “Sure thing, Mr.—Jordan.”

Nell watched with envy as the two males exchanged a look. She’d spent the past two years trying to coax Jacob out of his shell. She knew he loved her and had learned to trust her, but what had just passed between Jordan and Jacob was different. Obviously, she hadn’t been born with the right equipment to earn that kind of connection. While it wasn’t fair, it was also worrisome. Tanner was looking to make a fast buck, not lifelong friends.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Wearing a white T-shirt that clung to well-defined muscles, Tanner smiled down at her. Hard to tell the man made a living behind a desk. Why couldn’t he have been fat and balding? Have bad teeth, bad breath? Anything. He was too perfect for his own good.

Nell sighed in defeat, led the way to the front door of the house and pulled a key ring from her pockets.

“The house has its own well,” she explained as she unlocked the door. “We’re just outside village limits. If the tenants take everyone’s needs into consideration, it works out okay.” She switched on the basement light and started down the stairs, Tanner so close on her heels, she felt heat from his body.

“What does that mean?”

“It means if you want to do laundry, it’s better to wait until the middle of the day when most of us are gone.”

“Let me guess, Mrs. Trembley.”

Oh, no, she wasn’t giving Tanner any ammo to evict the old gal. Mrs. T. barely got by as it was. She’d never find another apartment for four hundred a month. Ignoring him as best she could, Nell switched on the light in the dark corner where the pump was installed.

“This will only take a minute. Why don’t you look around? The foundation’s not bad for being over a hundred years old.”

“I want to see what you’re doing in case I ever have to fix the pump.”

Nell swore under her breath as he crowded in after her. “You open this valve and let the air escape for a few minutes. Once the water starts coming out, you close the valve and hope there’s enough in the well to bring the pressure up.”

Tanner stood at least a foot above her, his broad shoulders blocking most of the light. If he’d been anyone else, she’d have elbowed him to get him to back off. But he was her landlord and part-time employer. And yeah, his heat warmed her in places she’d been cold for what felt like forever. He smelled good, too. Damn it.

She closed the valve when the water spurted into the bucket she’d left the last time she’d had trouble. “Okay, show’s over. Can you back up? I’m suffocating in here.”

In the dim light she saw him grin. “Is that what you call it?”

She followed as he squeezed out of the narrow space, tension stiffening her spine. She needed to set Tanner straight right now. She took care of the building. That was it. Being the landlord did not come with fringe benefits. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got kids. I can’t afford to fool around.”

His gray eyes darkened, his gaze straying to her midsection and staying there. She tried not to squirm as heat coiled in her belly. She was wearing overalls, for heaven’s sake. Overalls. Was the man sex deprived?

“I didn’t figure you for a coward.” As his voice slid over her, she dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands. They were so not going to happen.

“Listen, Tanner. You seem like a nice man, but you’re not getting it. Jacob and Lacey have had a rough life. I know you’re not planning on being around for long, and I’m asking you to not get too close to them. Or me. You’ll only end up hurting them if you do.”

JORDAN’S HEAD JERKED BACK as if she’d slapped him. Man, Miss Nellie didn’t believe in dressing up her message. Which could be an asset in certain situations. But not when he’d been about to make a move on her. First it was the glimpses of her smooth, flat belly that had him salivating, then he’d fixated on her ears. They were tiny and pink and damned near perfect. He wanted to explore…everything about her. She fascinated him.

Thank goodness one of them was thinking straight. She had kids. Period. He was out of here as soon as the house sold, and he wasn’t looking for a ready-made family. Not that Lacey and Jacob weren’t nice kids. Having only known them a day, it surprised him how often they popped into his head. He thought about their mother more, especially about what she wore under her overalls. Each time he caught himself thinking about Nell, he tried to turn it off, but there was something about her that made him a little crazy. He needed to get his priorities straight; he’d never had trouble focusing on his goals before. He’d clawed his way out of his childhood, and he planned to keep on climbing until…well, he’d know when he’d arrived.

Jordan put his hands up in surrender. “Message coming through loud and clear. You’re right. They’re good kids, and I don’t want to hurt them. Or you.”

He pivoted away and studied the rock walls of the basement. It was one thing to lust after Miss Nellie, another thing entirely to get caught up in her problems.

“Good to know you don’t have anyone stashed down here,” he said in an attempt to lighten the mood. When she chuckled, he felt a spurt of pride, as if he’d accomplished something important.

“I’d like to have my own set of keys to the house,” he added as he followed her up the stairs a few minutes later.

She hesitated for a brief second before continuing on. “Of course. I think I still have Beulah’s set somewhere.”

“I’d also like to have a look at the books.”

She came to a dead stop and turned around. “What books?”

“Your operating budget. You know, expenses, the rent collected.”

“Oh, that. Terry Folger takes care of the rent money, and when I need cash to fix something, he gives it to me. I’ll give you his number.”

Of course Beulah wouldn’t let just anyone handle the money. What had he been thinking? She may have been eccentric, but according to his mother, Beulah had been canny about money. If Folger measured up to his standards, all he had to worry about was the non-paying tenants, the low rents. Repairs. Might as well find out exactly what he was up against right away.

“I haven’t had a chance to look around outside. Are there any outbuildings?”

“An old garage in the backyard. I store the lawn mower and yard tools in it. Oh, and the occasional alien. Would you like to see it?”

He laughed and opened the door for her. There were three vehicles in the driveway on this side of the house; a red Toyota Yaris, a gray Ford sedan and a battered old quarter-ton pickup truck. Not hard to guess who drove the truck.

“Yours?” He kicked the front tire as they walked past.

“Bought and paid for.” She hesitated at the corner of the house. “I, uh, dug up the backyard when I first moved in. Beulah didn’t mind.”

Jordan was struck speechless when he rounded the corner of the house. Nell had turned the yard into a paradise. He didn’t know much about flowers, but even he recognized a marigold when he saw one. Bright yellow and orange marigolds rimmed a tomato patch. When he bent down, he saw several ripe tomatoes peeking out from under dark green leaves. Lacey waved to him from a swing that hung from an old oak in the far corner. Beside her, water trickled over a small man-made—or woman-made—waterfall. Sitting on a wood bench beside the waterfall, Rodney stopped cleaning his fingernails with his jackknife to nod at Jordan. Sunflowers lined the back wall of the house.

The sun warmed his back, and tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying slid off his shoulders.

“You did all this?” Miss Nellie was an artist in her own right.

She nudged the loose soil with the toe of her sneaker. “It took me two years. Rodney’s been helping lately. He used to be a farmer. “

“Hey, Jordan.”

Jordan looked up into the canopy of green oak leaves. Jacob was lying on what appeared to be a small front porch of a half-built tree house.

Nell had built a paradise for her kids. And she was willing to share it with a man like Rodney? The hair on the back of his neck rose. What did she know about the guy? He looked like he belonged in a hospital, or, God forbid, that street corner in Seabend where all the winos hung out. The more Jordan looked at him, the more he was convinced he recognized him. He passed that corner several times a week when he was jogging.

He grabbed Nell’s elbow and propelled her toward the garage, a generous name for the decrepit structure. “Let’s check out those aliens.”

“No problem.” She pulled the keys out again and unlocked the side door. The garage was dim with light trickling in from one dusty window and the open door behind him. Crammed full with bits and pieces of everyone’s lives, plus the requisite lawn mower and tools, there was barely enough room for him and Nell to stand inside.

“What’s the story on Rodney?” he asked.

“Oh.” Nell plucked a rag from a basket beside her and started wiping down an old dresser that was missing one drawer. “He’s been sick, but he’s getting stronger every day.”

“I can see he’s ill. Where does he live?”

She chucked the rag back into the basket and met his glare straight on. “He was living on the streets in Seabend, but he was sick. So I brought him home and let him stay in your room for a few days. Like I said, he’s getting better. He’ll move on soon. He’s not one to accept charity lightly.”

Jordan suppressed the urge to shake some sense into her. Didn’t she know what kind of people lived on the streets? “You brought a bum home and let him stay? Are you crazy? He could be a serial killer for all you know.”

“He’s a sweet man who recently lost his wife of forty years and can’t stand to go home.”

“You knew this before you brought him here?”

“Some of it. I knew him years ago. My parents had a convenience store, and he used to sell eggs to them.”

A tenuous connection at best. “He has to go, Nell.”

Nell leaned forward and pushed the door shut. “Let him stay for a couple more weeks, just until he’s stronger. I’ll…I’ll make it up to you.”

Jordan’s black mood lifted. Negotiations. Home ground for him. Once he finished with Nell, he’d drill Rodney about who he was and why he was hanging around Dunstan Lane. “How?”

Nell’s eyes went a little wild, then she settled. “I’ll cook you supper for the next two weeks. I’m a good cook.”

He folded his arms over his chest and tried his best not to smile. Nothing sweeter than having the upper hand. “Not good enough. What else?”

“I’ll do your laundry. And clean your room.” She murmured the last under her breath.

“Deal.” He stuck out his hand and shook hers. He knew when not to push too hard and by the murderous look in her eye, he’d reached her limit. “You can start today. My room stinks.”

“I can’t. I have to go to work.”

“I thought you were at work.”

“I have another job at a garden center. I try not to work weekends, but I couldn’t get out of it this time. They close at seven on Saturdays, but maybe I can clean your room after the kids are in bed.”

Jordan bit back a curse. He hadn’t realized Nell worked another job. He’d thought…he hadn’t thought, had he? He didn’t know the first thing about her. “Forget the room and laundry. But just so we understand each other, no more strays. This is not a charitable enterprise.”

“Gotcha.” She looked so downcast, he wondered who else she’d planned to drag home. Taking advantage of an absent landlord was no laughing matter, especially if you were the landlord. So why did he feel like laughing? It was going to be a challenge keeping up with Nell. Good thing he thrived on challenges.

“How many jobs do you have?”

“Just the garden center and here.”

Neither of which put much money in her pocket. This was the perfect opportunity to see how he could help her move on to something new. “If you had your pick, what would your dream job be?”

Nell leaned against the dresser and hooked her thumbs inside her overalls. “That’s easy. Farmer.”

“Farmer?” Of course he knew somewhere out there farmers were hard at work, but it had never occurred to him anyone actually aspired to be one.

“I’m hoping once the kids get a bit older, I can rent an old farm and start growing herbs. I want to make tinctures and essential oils and dried herbs. Teas, too.” She glowed as she listed the products.

“Herbs,” he repeated.

“Like oregano and sage. You do know what herbs are, don’t you?”

“Of course. I just… Is there a market for those products? Can you make a living growing that sh…stuff?”

She shot him an incredulous look. “Where have you been, Tanner? People are crazy about them.”

In whose universe? Certainly not his. Why did people always think starting a business was easy? “Have you thought about the business side of this venture? How much land would you need? How would you get your product to market? Who’s your target group?”

She beamed up at him. “I have a business plan. Maybe you could look at it. You’d probably have some great ideas. This is wonderful. Rodney’s going to make me a still, and you can iron out the wrinkles in my business plan. I knew it was all going to come together for me. I just didn’t think—”

“Hold on. Back up a minute. What’s this about a still? Isn’t that illegal?”

“I don’t think so.” She dug a small notebook out of her back pocket and jotted something down. “I’ll have to check on that, but I think it’s more what you make with the still than the actual equipment. Like hemp oil. That would probably be illegal.”

Jordan swallowed a surge of panic. “Please tell me you’re not growing that stuff here.”

She glanced up from her notes. “What stuff?”

“Marijuana.”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the adoption.”

“Adoption?”

She stared at him for a minute, looking as confused as he felt. “I forgot you don’t know about that. Lacey and Jacob are my sister’s children. She died in a car accident two years ago, and they’ve been living with me ever since. The adoption is all set to go through. Their father, Tony, he’s making a few waves, but I think it’s going to be okay. We just have to get through the next few weeks without any big upsets. It’s going to be okay,” she repeated.

Okay for who? Jordan staggered from one dizzying thought to another. He’d assumed Nell was their mother. Anyone could see she loved the kids. But she wasn’t; she was adopting them. And it all came down to the next few weeks. He got a bad taste in the back of his throat like he did every time a deal started going sour on him. When had the government ever accomplished anything on time? “Exactly when is the adoption set to go through?”

“The social worker said it would be soon. Maybe a month at the most. And then, you know, Tony. I think he’s changing his mind about letting me adopt the kids.” She huddled down into herself. Obviously, things weren’t as okay as she wanted to believe.

“Tony’s the dad?”

“Yeah. Tony Bleecher.”

“Where is he?”

“Jail.” She tried to smile, but failed miserably. “He was drunk, and my sister… I don’t know what happened. She got in the car with him, and they…he…there was an accident. She died. He’s serving five years for drinking and driving causing death, but he’s up for parole soon.”

Getting details from her was like pulling nails out of concrete. “And the kids won’t live with him when he gets out because…?”

She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Tony’s…different. To meet him you’d think he was a nice guy. He comes from a rich family and is well-educated. But he’s mean beneath the nice-guy act. He’d pinch my sister so hard she’d have a bruise for weeks, but only where no one would see. And if he thought you weren’t important, he’d say things to you, especially if he was drinking. Stuff that would make you feel lousy about yourself even though you knew it wasn’t true. Lacey and Jacob are scared of him. He’s a mean drunk.”

Bile burned Jordan’s throat as he forced his clenched fists open. He hated the thought that anyone, but especially their father, would hurt Jacob and Lacey.

An endless procession of his mother’s boyfriends had tromped through his life, dispensing slaps, punches and toxic comments in their wake. Even now, he could coast along for the longest time, think he’d forgotten the abuse, but the slightest trigger, such as what Nell had just told him, would bring back the appalling helplessness he’d felt as a child.

He took a minute before he spoke; the last thing Nell needed was another angry guy. “So you’re going to adopt them,” he said in a mild voice.

“Yeah. But I love them, too. I want to adopt them.”

How could he possibly sell the house until the adoption went through, and Nell and the kids were safe? Jordan closed his eyes, hoping the whole situation would magically disappear. But a minute later, when he opened his eyes, Nell still looked as though she was expecting her world to bottom out. Damn it. There had to be another way out of the mess.

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