“It isn’t a question of kindness, but one of caring,” he insisted. “Over the years, Mrs. Hogan—your aunt—has become more than an employee to Pamela and me. This is a difficult time for her … and you. We would like to make it as easy as possible.”
“Of course.” She could think of nothing else to say.
“What will you do you now, Maggie?” He disliked that name. It didn’t seem to suit the self-possessed young woman standing in front of him.
“I’m going to continue my correspondence course so I can get my diploma,” she replied without hesitation. “Meanwhile, I’m going to look for a job and a good nursery to look after Ty while I’m at work.”
“Jobs are hard to find,” Phillip murmured.
“I’ll find one,” she stated. “As soon as I have my high school diploma, I’m going on to college.”
Admiration glimmered in his eyes at her unwavering determination. She was going to find a job, and she was going to college. It hadn’t been “I want to,” but “I’m going to.” She was a remarkable girl, beautiful and determined.
She half-turned to include Pamela. “May I bring you some coffee or tea?”
The consensus was for tea. Cathleen let go of Pamela’s hand to rise. “I’ll fix it, Mary Frances.”
“You stay here and visit with the Gordons,” Maggie insisted. “I can manage.”
As she left the room, she heard Cathleen say, “God sent that girl to me because He knew I would need her to get through these weeks.”
The comment made Maggie feel glad that her presence served a purpose and she wasn’t a burden on her aunt. She made the tea properly, the way her aunt had shown her, letting the pot warm while the water was heating. She filled it with the hot, but not boiling, water, and added the loose tea leaves. Setting it aside to steep, she fixed the serving tray as precisely as she had seen it done at Pamela Gordon’s home, complete with the fragile china cups and cream and sugar, and wedges of lemon.
When she carried the tray into the living room, she heard Pamela Gordon insisting, “What you really need, Cathleen, is a change of surroundings. Phillip and I have always wanted you to live with us. We never pressed the point because we knew you had your husband’s parents to look after. Come live with us now.” She was so beautiful, so persuasive that Maggie wondered how anyone could resist, but her aunt glanced at Maggie.
“I couldn’t leave Maggie and the baby by themselves.” She shook her head sadly, reluctant to refuse her employer anything.
Phillip had been watching Maggie since she had returned to the room with the tea service. She was a magnet, drawing his gaze whenever she was near. The stark simplicity of her black dress revealed its homemade origins, yet it gave her body an understated sexiness. The thrust of ripe breasts filled out the plain bodice before the material was darted and tucked to fit her narrow waist. When she bent over to set the tray on the table, the skirt was drawn tautly across the round cheeks of her bottom. Desire stirred within him, but Phillip angrily pushed it down. My God, he was old enough to be her father, he reminded himself. His interest in her was strictly paternal.
This rationale permitted him to suggest, “Maggie and the baby are welcome to come, too. The apartment over the garage hasn’t been used for several years, but I think we could convert it into comfortable living quarters.” Forcing his gaze from Maggie’s wary look, he addressed himself to her aunt. “With the way property values keep rising, I wouldn’t suggest that you sell this house. Rent it and keep it as an investment. Then, if you ever wanted to move back, you could.”
“I suppose I could.” But Cathleen Hogan was hesitant.
Maggie stayed out of the discussion that ensued. Sitting on the edge of a chair, she poured out the cups of tea and tried to do it as gracefully as she had seen Pamela do it. The prospect of living on the Gordons’ ranch estate, where she could observe Pamela and learn more about becoming a lady, seemed like a dream come true, even if it meant living over a garage. It was previous disillusionments that kept her silent. But Phillip and Pamela talked her aunt into making the move.
“You haven’t said what you think about it, Maggie,” Phillip prompted. “Do you have any objections to the plan?”
“No, but as soon as I find a job, I’ll start paying you something every month for rent,” she stated.
Phillip knew better than to argue about that. “You mentioned earlier that you would be looking for work, and I’ve been giving it some thought. You don’t need to look any further for a job. I need someone to exercise my horses and help with light work in the stable. I’m convinced you have the experience with horses to handle it. And it will mean you will have more time with Ty.”
“Oh, yes!” Pamela enthusiastically endorsed the proposal. “I would adore watching him for you, Maggie. There wouldn’t be any need for you to hire a sitter. You could just bring him over to the house.” As if realizing he was the subject of conversation, Ty began crying from his crib, squeezed into Maggie’s small bedroom. Pamela laughed in delight. “I knew if we stayed long enough, Ty would wake up from his nap.”
The move was accomplished much quicker than Maggie had believed possible, her life-style changing so swiftly that she was a little dazed. It was as if she had stepped out of the haunting shadows of her past and into the bright sunlight of a new life.
The letters she wrote to Culley were filled with her enthusiasm for her new home and new job. When Phillip had mentioned an apartment over a garage, she had envisioned something entirely different from the huge living quarters with walls freshly painted and new carpeting on the floors.
There was a nursery for Ty and enough space in Maggie’s bedroom to allow her to have not only a bed, dresser, and chest of drawers, but also a chair and desk so she could study her lessons. Pamela had given them some furniture from the main house, insisting she would give it to some charity if they didn’t take it.
Her new job entailed getting up early every morning to groom and exercise Phillip’s show horses. It turned out to be different from what she had imagined, since she’d never ridden with an English saddle before. She was very awkward at first. Phillip insisted that she had natural hands and a natural seat. When he first suggested that he could teach her the finer points of dressage and show-jumping in the evenings, she had been reluctant, but when he mentioned that most of the female show riders were young ladies from society families, Maggie accepted his offer. If riding English-style rather than Western made her a lady, then
that was for her.
August came and went, her seventeenth birthday along with it. When the evening dishes were done, Maggie kissed Ty and left him in her aunt’s care so she could meet Phillip at the stable for her riding lesson. He was waiting for her in the tack room when she arrived.
Calling it a tack room was almost a misnomer, although it was where all the riding equipment was kept. It was a combination office and lounge, complete with shower facilities so Phillip could clean up before going to the house. Trophies and ribbons were displayed on the walls, interspersed with photographs of his horses. Besides an antique mahogany desk, there was a leather-covered divan and chairs in a rich shade of California tan to complement the paneled walls.
“Have you been waiting long?” She hoped not, but there was a settled look about him, as if he’d been sitting in the swivel chair behind the desk for some time.