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She was still surprised to find herself here, surprised and nervous. What if something happened? What if A.J. got hurt while in her care? She hadn’t been alone with a baby in—not since she was a child.
The horrible memory circled through like a buzzard ready to pluck her heart out.
What was Gabe thinking? She was a virtual stranger. She had no business with his child, but A.J.’s cry had got her moving. She couldn’t say no to that sweet request, especially when he was headed for a dangerous construction zone.
She considered getting out of the car to let A.J. walk around, but with all the machinery and activity, she worried. Gabe had parked outside what appeared to be a temporary office, a short distance removed from the actual mine shaft, but she would take no chances.
She unstrapped A.J.’s car seat, crawled into the backseat with him and let him play. Gabe had brought along a bucket filled with toys to keep his son entertained. He also had a DVD player built into the headrest. A.J. promptly dumped out the toys, then began to put them back again. Brooke retrieved the ones that fell to the floor and handed them back. As soon as the pail was filled, he dumped the toys and started over.
“So that’s the game,” Brooke said when A.J. offered a red block. With some ceremony, she plunked the toy into the plastic bucket. “There you go.”
“There you go,” he repeated as he added another. He was such a precious, happy little boy Brooke’s chest filled with a hot ache just from watching him play.
After a few minutes, he tired of that game and moved on to driving toy cars over the seats and onto Brooke’s leg. When she made car noises, he giggled and said, “Do it again.”
She did, loving the reward of his belly laugh.
As she fumbled for a fallen pickup truck, she spotted a man heading toward the car. Her stomach sank. The warm pleasure of A.J.’s company dissipated. Her cousin Vincent was not the nicest of her relatives.
He ambled up to the window. “Well, look who we have here. Little Brookey.”
Brooke cringed at the snide voice from her childhood. Vincent had teased and tormented her as long as she could remember. Behind the pretty-boy face was a bully who’d gotten into weightlifting for more than sport. He’d used his superior physique and clever mind as weapons. She’d learned to run away or steer clear anytime she saw him.
“Hello, Vincent.”
He leaned down to prop his elbows on the window. Muscles bulged in his arms and shoulders. This close, she noticed the slightly crooked nose, the only mar in an otherwise perfect face, broken when Lucas had punched him for calling Mei a derogatory name. “In town for long?”
“Awhile.”
“Don’t play that game with me, Brooke. I know about the old skinflint’s will.”
She hitched her chin, not wanting him to see how nervous he made her. Keeping an eye on A.J. was stressful enough without trouble coming around. “My grandfather’s will is none of your concern.”
“Sure it is. He finally did something right in his miserable life.” Vincent laughed, an ugly sound. “Or maybe I should say in his miserable death. We all suspected the old miser had a bankroll. He should have had plenty after he stole everything from my side of the family.”
“That was a long time ago, Vincent, and nobody’s ever proved he stole anything.”
“But we know. Now that we have a chance to get it back, you and the others are not going to stand in the way.”
“Is that a threat?” Her nerves quivered. Although not particularly tall, Vincent was ripped. Even before he’d started bodybuilding, he’d known how to intimidate. Behind the handsome face was a self-seeking, devious mind that would stop at nothing to get his way. She glanced at A.J. and wondered what was taking Gabe so long.
“No threat needed, Brookey.” He smirked. “The will says you and the rest have to live here a year or my family inherits. Other than doormat Arabella, you’re the only one of George’s grandkids I see in town.”
“You seem to have a lot of information about my grandfather’s will.”
“Clayton’s a small town. People talk.” He glanced over his shoulder at the trailer. “Besides, I’m a Clayton, too. People trust me.”
