Free Impossible Dreams by Patricia Rice Page B

word
“quit.”
    He’d always thought fathers worked to provide food and
shelter and earned love and respect in return. What had he done wrong?
    He simply didn’t possess what she needed. Pained by
that realization, Axell rose. “I apologize for my lack of hospitality,
but I’ve got to get back to the bar.” At least, at the bar, he knew
where he stood. He provided the executive decisions. His employees provided the
friendly atmosphere. “Make yourself at home as best as you can. I think
the housekeeper keeps up the guest room, but you can ask Constance for anything
you need. She knows where everything is.”
    “Of course she does.” Maya slipped her arm
around Constance’s shoulder. “She’s an excellent hostess. You
can leave us safely in her hands.”
    She threw him a veiled look he couldn’t interpret.
Axell suspected he was supposed to do or say something now but he didn’t
know what it was. His father might have punched him in the arm and said
“Come on, Tiger, let’s you and me go to the bar,” but that
didn’t seem the appropriate response in this case. He patted
Constance’s head awkwardly. “You look after Miss Alyssum and Matty
for me. I’ll see you in the morning.”
    Maya shook her head and watched him hurry away. The poor man
didn’t have a clue. She could almost sympathize with him. Almost. But
years of experience told her that men were a self-centered lot when it came
right down to it, and just because Axell was older and wealthier than most she
knew, he wasn’t any different.
    She let both Constance and Matty wind down by watching the
video. She doubted if Matty had ever seen a video, or that he had any idea how
it operated. Cleo’s ancient television didn’t have cable and only
picked up a couple of local channels, and those faintly. Matty watched a few
cartoons on Saturday morning but nothing else. Maya preferred it that way, but
she didn’t have the heart to tear him away from this fascinating
entertainment after seeing his home reduced to a crumbled pile of brick.
    Homeless. Maya fought off another slam of panic as the baby
kicked.
    Matty wasn’t the only one who needed diversion.
Bubbles of pure fear percolated through her veins. She needed her tea. She
should have insisted on rescuing her cups.
    After the video ended, Constance led them through the
darkened corridors of the house. The unlived-in decor didn’t ease her
fears. Dining room furniture gleamed with wax, vacant of any hodgepodge of
sugar bowls or salt cellars or placemats. The beautifully decorated living room
with its plush white rugs could never have seen a child’s toy. The lovely
apricot walls sported no dirty fingerprints. Against the silver sofa, charming
pillows lay in perfectly symmetrical patterns that could never have held a
human head.
    Maya rolled her eyes and with a spurt of humor, imagined
what this place would look like if she let Matty and Muldoon and herself loose
in it for a few days. Axell would never recover from the shock. Maybe she could
round up a pickup and move Cleo’s stuff into the upper story of the
school in the morning. Selene was out of town, but she might have a better idea
when she returned.
    Maya shuddered at the first sight of the guest room. It
looked like a hotel with its prints of English gardens and heavy draperies in
polite mauve and blue pinstripes against a beige background. She supposed the
cherry furniture was expensively tasteful but not the kinds of things one would
let a child jump on.
    “This was gonna be the baby’s room,”
Constance said matter-of-factly as Matty stared in awe at the big bed with its
stacks of pillows.
    The baby’s room? Maya would rather not get into that
one.
    Looking around at Axell Holm’s ice palace, she could
see rules and regulations written all over. No sirree bob, she was out of here
first thing in the morning.
    Constance tugged shyly at her hand. “I made a
picture,” she whispered.
    Unable to accomplish the feat of crouching again,