“Why not?” Bobby wanted to know.
“He hasn’t asked her yet, you dope.”
“It’s more than that. I...Hayden...we...well, we live in different worlds.”
“But you like each other,” Bobby pointed out. “He’s here a lot.”
“Liking each other is not enough.”
John propped his head up with his hand. “If he asked you, would you say ‘yes’?”
That was a tough one. “I don’t think so.”
“Aw, Mom!” Bobby said with a sigh. “If you married him we could have everything we wanted. New twenty-one-speed bikes, a big house, a boat that goes real fast like his—”
“And an airplane. Like Mr. Fitzpatrick. Katie Osgood says—”
“I don’t care what Katie Osgood says,” Nadine snapped at John. “Now, you just close your eyes and go to sleep, and that goes double for you,” she added with a smile for Bobby.
Quickly she descended the stairs. “Trouble?” Hayden asked as she reached the first floor.
“Nothing serious,” she replied, as he took her into his arms and placed a kiss upon her forehead. She melted willingly against him and wished she could think of a way to protect herself and her children from the great void that would appear in their lives when he locked the doors of the manor across the lake forever.
* * *
SELL OUT TO Thomas Fitzpatrick. The offer was tempting. Uncle Thomas hadn’t pulled any punches, which surprised Hayden as he studied the buyout offer. Thomas wanted all the mills and was offering a decent price, if not top dollar. The deal was neat. All Hayden had to do was sign on the dotted line and make an announcement at the next board meeting. Since he owned controlling interest, no one could raise a stink. So why was he hesitating?
Because of Nadine. If he sold the mills and put the summerhouse on the market, he would be closing the door to Gold Creek forever and turning his back on Nadine and her children. He smiled as he thought of the boys. The older kid, John, was a handful. Bright and cocky, he was sure to give his mother more than her share of gray hairs, and the younger boy...he was difficult in his own way—a kid who struggled in school and was always at the mercy of his older, stronger brother.
They didn’t know how lucky they were, he decided. If only he’d had a brother or a sister with whom he could have shared his problems, confided his darkest secrets and beat the living tar out of when he’d been angry.
The phone rang, and he picked up on the second ring. He nearly slammed the receiver back into its cradle when he recognized Wynona’s wheedling voice. “Hayden? Thank God I caught you.”
The irony of her words settled like lead on his shoulders. “What do you want, Wynona?” he asked without much interest.
“I want to see you again. We need to talk.”
“Talk to Bradworth.”
He could almost feel her seething through the wires. “There are things we need to discuss. Important things. Things that I don’t want to confide in a lawyer.”
“Guilty conscience?” he mocked, and he heard her swift intake of breath. He didn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse.
“I’m coming to see you.”
“Won’t do any good, Wynona. I’m leaving town.”
“But—”
“Goodbye,” he said, and slammed down the receiver. The phone started ringing again, but he didn’t bother answering, just took the stairs two at a time and started planning a weekend away from Gold Creek and the mills and Thomas Fitzpatrick and contracts. Away from the guilt.
But not away from everything. He planned to take Nadine and her boys with him.
* * *
SAM CLAPPED HIS hands and yelled up the stairs to the loft. “Come on, guys. Chop! Chop!”
“Give them a break,” Nadine reprimanded. “It was the last day of school today. They’re wound up.”