Twilight's Child (Cutler 3)

Mother brightened, and her laugh became lighter.

"It's not hard to imagine you doing the same thing, Dawn," Bronson said, turning back to me. His gaze lingered, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Mother growing green with envy.

"I'm not interested in breaking hearts right now, Mr. Alcott," I said.

"Oh, please, call me Bronson. I have hopes that we shall become good friends as well as business associates," he said, this time winking. "Which reminds me," he added, pulling up on a long gold watch fob and snapping his gold pocket watch open. He gazed at it and turned back to Mother. "I should be on my way. I have played hooky from my responsibilities at the bank long enough." He stood up and turned back to me. "Perhaps I can hope that you and your mother will pay a visit to Beulla Woods," he said.

"That's the Alcott estate," Mother explained quickly. "It's a magnificent home just northwest of Cutler's Cove."

The way she said it and gazed at Bronson when she did gave me the impression she had been there many, many times and could find it in the dark.

"Yes, maybe all of us can go one day," I said, emphasizing "all." Bronson held his smile, but Mother smiled coyly. He reached out for my hand and brought it to his lips.

"Good-bye. It was a pleasure meeting you," he said, holding me in his gaze so long, I felt my heart begin to flutter. He seemed to want to memorize every aspect of my face. Finally he turned to Mother. "Laura Sue."

She rose, and they embraced, Bronson planting a kiss on her cheek, but a kiss that found his lips so close to hers, I was sure they grazed in passing. Mother glanced at me quickly and then

released one of her nervous little laughs. Bronson bowed and left us. When I looked back at Mother I saw her face was flushed. She looked as though her heart was pounding harder than mine.

"Oh, dear," she said quickly, "I didn't realize how getting dressed to look decent and visiting with someone would tire me. I'm afraid I have to take a little rest, Dawn." She turned to go into her bedroom.

"Mother, wait. I came up here to see you for a reason," I said. She paused, a look of impatience on her face.

"What is it now, Dawn?" she huffed.

"It's Randolph. He doesn't look very good to me, and he's doing very strange things." I told her what had transpired in the laundry. She shook her head.

"There's nothing new about all that," she said. "Randolph is Randolph," she added, as if that explained it forever.

"But don't you think he's worse? I mean, he's no longer concerned about his appearance, and—"

"Oh, Dawn, he'll snap out of it. It's just his way of mourning the death of his precious mother. Please, I have my own health to worry about these days."

"Yes," I said, "but yours appears to return on demand," I added caustically.

"I'm too tired for this," she replied. "Much too tired." She continued into her bedroom and shut the door quickly. I left and went to my room, where I found Mrs. Boston rocking Christie in her arms and singing a lullaby. The sight made me smile.

"Oh, Dawn," she said when she realized I was standing and watching her. "I was just putting her back to sleep."

"Thank you, Mrs. Boston. I know you have so much of your own work to do without adding mine."

"Oh, I don't consider this work, Dawn," she said, carefully placing Christie back in her cradle. "Has your mother's guest gone yet?" she asked.

"Yes, he just left," I said, catching some disapproval in her voice and eyes. "Do you know him, Mrs. Boston?"

"Everyone knows Mr. Alcott. At one time, a long time ago," she said, "he was a frequent visitor at the hotel."

"Is that right?"

"Yes. Your mother had many gentleman callers," she said, "but he was the only one who came around after she married Randolph."

"Isn't he married himself?" I asked. Now that I recalled, I hadn't seen a wedding ring on his finger.

"Oh, no. He's still one of the most eligible bachelors in Cutler's Cove."

"I wonder why he never married. He's a very handsome man," I said. Mrs. Boston had that look on her face that told me she knew the gossip. "Do you know why?"

She shrugged. "You know how it is around the hotel—people talk."