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  The rest of the morning slipped by, and at noon, she phoned Frances Simpson and was relieved to hear that so far, things were going well. Gracie wasn’t running a temperature and she was just about to be put down for a nap.

  Rachel hung up the phone but could not stifle the niggling doubts she had. She glanced at her calendar for the rest of the day.

  She had to show up at the opening of a group home the Foundation had helped set up. After that, some research into an organization that had applied to Noble, then numerous phone calls about the annual Noble Foundation Picnic that was held at her parents’ estate. She pinched the bridge of her nose, wondering if she could find a few moments to sneak away and see Gracie.

  The ringing of the phone pulled her back to her work. “Hey, Anita, how are you?” she asked, recognizing the caller as her former secretary.

  “Bored.” Anita sighed. “How is the Foundation doing?”

  “Not too bad.” Rachel didn’t want to give her any more particulars than that. She knew that losing some of their donors was not her own fault, but she still felt it reflected on her. “So what can I do for you?”

  “I just wanted to see if you would be willing to let me use you as a reference. I’m looking for another job.”

  “You’ve only been working at this job for a couple of months.”

  “I know. It makes me sound irresponsible.”

  “Hardly. You were here before I came.” In fact, Rachel often wondered if Anita hadn’t quit because of Rachel. “So what’s the problem with the new place?”

  “Same as the previous. Not enough responsibility.” Anita stopped, then sighed lightly. “I’m sorry, Rachel, that slipped out.”

  “It’s okay,” Rachel said. But she knew it wasn’t. When Rachel had first come to the Foundation, things were run so haphazardly that she had to personally oversee many of the operations just to get them on track. She knew what she wanted and had a hard time translating that to other people, Anita included. Now she had two assistants, but was still having difficulty letting go. “But I would gladly give you a reference.”

  “Anybody home?” Reuben put his head through the doorway.

  Rachel motioned for him to come in. “I should go, Anita. Thanks for calling and good luck in your new job.” She rang off and sat back into her chair. “What have you got for me?”

  “I haven’t been able to find out a lot. What I’d really like is to head down there and talk to the people face to face. I could drive down over the weekend and be back by Monday.”

  Rachel bit her lip, trying to think of all the work she needed to get done in the next few days. She could put a few things off that Reuben could take care of when he came back.

  “I am not a hundred percent convinced this is the group for her, nor do I have a lot of time for this personal hand-holding she insists on.”

  “Let me take care of her when I come back,” he said, grinning. “I know how to do this.”

  Rachel turned her chair slightly as she looked at him. “If you know, why did you get Lorna to set up an appointment with her in this office?”

  “What?” Reuben looked genuinely puzzled, then angry.

  “I didn’t ask Lorna to do that for me.”

  Rachel just stared at him. As he held her gaze, she could not help but think of what Lorna had told her a few days ago. How uncomfortable she felt around Reuben. How pushy he was.

  His go-to nature was one of the reasons she had hired him, but she wondered if these very same qualities weren’t becoming a detriment.

  “Rachel, I didn’t ask Lorna to set up a meeting,” Reuben continued, resting his hands on her desk and leaning toward her. “And if she says I did, well, she’s lying. And truthfully I think you need to check on a few other things she’s doing.”

  His combative words did nothing to reassure her. “Lorna does a good job,” she said.

  “Could be. But I think she’s doing a few other things, as well, besides lying about what I’ve asked her to do.”

  Rachel sighed quietly. Hiring two assistants had seemed like a good idea; now she was not so sure. Each had strengths, but in the past few weeks, she had sensed a tension between the two that only seemed to be escalating.

  “Setting up the meeting must have been some kind of mix-up on Lorna’s part. Don’t worry, I got her to cancel it.”

  “That’s good. I know LaReese doesn’t like going out. She told me as much the last time I saw her.”

  Rachel frowned. “When did you see her?”

  Reuben straightened and shifted away from her. Retreating. “She called me last week. Asked if I could stop by. She had a few questions about the Foundation.”

  “Considering that I’ve been working for the Foundation longer than you, this surprises me.”

  Reuben spread his hands out in a “what could I do?” gesture. He flashed his most charming grin. “Maybe she likes me.”

  “I’m sure she does.” Rachel smiled back, but it wasn’t sincere. “In the future I would prefer you run any contact with her past me first, okay?”

  “Sure. I’m sorry. I just thought because we had been there together the last time…” He let the sentence hang.

  “Anyway, go and check out that charity. If she’s interested in it and it’s legitimate, then we should be okay. And I’m glad we got this straightened out.” Except, Rachel didn’t feel like she had. She now had to talk to Lorna to find out what she knew.

  The next few hours slipped by without further complications. But just as she was about to call it a day, she got a frantic phone call from the organizer of the golf tournament. The donations for the evening silent auction were to have been delivered that morning, but no one could track them down. Rachel glanced at the clock and sighed. Lorna and Reuben were gone for the day. She was on her own.

  She phoned Mrs. Simpson and explained the situation, trying not to let the woman’s clipped replies add to her burden of guilt. She was efficient, Rachel reminded herself as she hung up the phone. That was why the woman talked the way she did. It did not mean that Rachel was neglecting Gracie. Not at all.

  Nonetheless it was eight o’clock by the time she was heading back up to her condo. She had a few more phone calls to make before she was done for the night. Gracie would probably be asleep by the time she got there anyhow—she would have time.

  But as she got off the elevator she heard Gracie’s cries coming through the doorway of her apartment. Déjà vu.

  As she entered the condo, Mrs. Simpson got up from the couch with Gracie and handed the crying toddler over to Rachel with undue haste. The tight set of her jaw and her narrowed eyes showed the woman’s displeasure.

  “I understood that I would be working regular hours,” Mrs. Simpson said, picking up her coat and purse, which had been lying ready on the couch. “I cannot work these hours continually.”

  Could this woman be any starchier? Where had Pilar found her?

  Rachel looked down at Gracie, who clung to her with damp chubby hands, wondering how Mrs. Simpson had dealt with the girl. Thankfully Gracie had stopped crying and was only sniffing now. Again Rachel felt a flush of guilt for leaving her alone. Clearly Gracie felt comfortable only around her. Which put a definite crimp in Rachel’s life.

  “Unfortunately I don’t know when I’m going to be leaving and when I’m going to be home,” Rachel said, trying to pacify her. She really could not afford to get this woman riled up. “I understood from Pilar—”

  “If you cannot guarantee me regular working hours,” Mrs. Simpson said, cutting her off, “I am afraid we shall have to revisit our agreement.” She buttoned up her coat and, it seemed, her lips.

  The frustration of the day spilled over. “I’m not renegotiating,” Rachel snapped. “If you can’t work the hours I need you to work, then maybe you better quit.”

  Mrs. Simpson lifted her chin enough to show Rachel what she thought of her, then swept out of the apartment without another word.

  Chapter Seven

  �
�The doctor said it would take that long?” Rachel twisted a strand of hair around and around her finger, wincing as she pulled it just a little too tight. “How is Mom with that?”

  “Impatient,” Charles said. “But she is so thankful that you are taking care of Gracie.”

  Rachel pushed aside a filing box with her foot as she dropped into her father’s chair. She pushed down a flurry of panic at the thought of all the work she had to get done in the next couple of months. The Noble Foundation Picnic was looming on top of her usual management duties and her own personal files. Moving her files back to her parents’ place would make her busier, but it was easier on Gracie to be back in her familiar setting.

  “Well, so far it’s going okay,” she said with a false heartiness. Her father had enough on his mind; he didn’t need to know that the past few days she had felt as if she was barely holding on to her life. She just needed to catch a new rhythm. Work a little harder. She could catch up if only she could get a few more hours in at night.

  She and her father exchanged more pleasantries, and Rachel promised to try to come and visit as soon as she had some time.

  As she hung up she dropped her head against the back of her father’s chair. Time was getting to be an even more precious commodity than before Gracie. And she hadn’t had a lot of it then.

  She dragged her hands over her face as her mind worried at her current problem. Too much to do. Too little time. Too many responsibilities. She should be farther along planning the picnic than she was. She needed to get LaReese settled. Needed to get Reuben and Lorna on track, and a myriad of other smaller responsibilities that she could not dump on just anyone. She had been taking care of things herself so long, she could not imagine passing any of the responsibilities on.

  As her mind whirled through all the work that needed doing, one of her mother’s phrases sifted through her mind. “Let go and let God.”

  Rachel let the phrase settle a moment, as if trying it on. The offer was tempting. If Rachel trusted God, that is…

  She sucked in a long slow breath, retied her ponytail and pushed herself up from the chair. No, she was better off taking care of things herself. That way she had control.

  Just as she was about to go back to her car for another box, the telephone rang again. Rachel checked the call display and picked up the receiver.

  “Hey, Lorna, what can I do for you?” She glanced at the clock. Gracie was due to wake up from her nap soon and Rachel wanted to get her car unloaded before that happened.

  “I don’t want to be a bother, but I just got a call from Reuben. He is on the road and wants me to access a bunch of files.”

  “What files?” Rachel asked, tucking the phone between her shoulder and her chin as she booted up her father’s computer. Lorna gave her the names, and Rachel frowned.

  “He hasn’t been working on those.”

  “I know. I looked for them but couldn’t find them.” Lorna paused, as if she wanted to say more.

  “That’s because I have them here with me.” Early this morning, Rachel had gone to the office and taken home what she thought she might need.

  “Oh. I see. Well, you see, Reuben…well…he called and said he would be helping you with them and the one on LaReese Binet.”

  “Next time he asks, let him know I have those here and if he needs any information he can call me.” Rachel tried to keep from sounding annoyed. “I made a list of things I would like you to do for me for the next few days. We’ll keep in touch by phone or e-mail.”

  “Do you want me to send you files from your computer?”

  “No. I’ve got one of the computer techs to set my computer up so I can access it from here via the Internet.”

  “I could have sent you what you needed if you gave me your password,” Lorna said, her tone slightly aggrieved.

  “This works just fine.” She had too much private information on the computer, and though she was sure Lorna was discreet, she did not want the information to go beyond her. “Anyhow, I better go. Call me if you need anything.”

  As she hung up the phone something niggled. What was Reuben doing? She had made it very clear which files she wanted him to work on.

  She listened for Gracie, but was relieved to hear nothing. Then she picked up the phone and dialed Reuben’s cell number.

  No answer. She frowned as she laid the handset in the cradle, drumming her fingers in impatience on the desk. Obviously she wasn’t going to get any answers at the moment.

  She ran back to her car for the next set of boxes, each time pausing to see if Gracie was awake. When Rachel had laid her down for her nap the child had snuggled into her crib. Her smile of utter contentment had made the trouble of the move worthwhile. And knowing that the housekeeper was around most of the day gave Rachel some badly needed backup.

  She tried Reuben’s number again, once again getting no reply, which puzzled her. He usually had his cell phone on all the time. She left a terse message for him to call her, then got back to work.

  But all the while, doubts about Reuben crept around the edges of her mind, creating an uneasiness she could not dispel. She could not get rid of the idea that he was up to something. Or the idea that it involved LaReese Binet.

  “So are you telling me you have decided not to go with the Foundation?” Rachel asked, tucking the phone under her chin as she wiped Gracie’s face and hands with the wet cloth she had learned to keep in readiness by her computer. This morning Gracie had discovered the plants in her father’s study. Friday it was a bottle of syrup.

  Since Rachel had moved her and her office back home, two things had happened. Rachel’s work life got more hectic and unorganized, and in spite of Rachel’s busyness, Gracie settled down. She was happier and, as a result, more active.

  “I understand, LaReese,” Rachel was saying as the same unsettled feeling she’d had all week clutched at her.

  “It is your money to dispose of as you please. Just as with purchasing something, I want to make sure you get the best value for your money. There are a lot of questionable charities around.”

  “Well, that young person from your office came by with some information on a real interesting group,” LaReese was saying. “Something to do with children and prison.”

  Rachel frowned, her unease growing into a full-blown worry-fest. Reuben was gone, checking the credentials of that self-same group. But he wasn’t answering his phone, so she really had no idea where he was. He must be dealing in the background with LaReese.

  “I hate to pester you, but I would really like to come over once more,” Rachel said. “To talk things over with you before you make a decision.”

  LaReese sighed. “All right, though I wish the Foundation would make up its mind. Come by on Sunday at two-thirty.”

  Rachel frowned at the dial tone now buzzing in her ear. What did LaReese mean by the Foundation making up its mind?

  And where was Reuben?

  She bit her lip, the nervousness she had felt before increasing. Things were not going well, and she had the feeling of holding onto threads that were slowly slipping out of her grasp.

  If she believed it would make a difference, she might pray.

  Let go and let God.

  Rachel pushed that thought aside. She had not spent much time with God lately. So talking to Him whenever it worked out only for her seemed a mite hypocritical.

  Gracie toddled over to her side, and before Rachel could stop her, she got hold of the mouse and yanked.

  The cable went taut. Gracie kept pulling. The mouse slipped out of her hand and she fell backward with a muffled thump. She sat there with a surprised expression on her face and then took a deep breath and started howling.

  Of course the doorbell would ring right now. Why not?

  “You’re okay, little one,” she said with a frown. But Gracie would not be consoled. Picking Gracie up and shifting her weight so the child rested more easily on one hip, Rachel strode through the house to the front door, wondering who would
be coming on a Saturday to her parents’ place.

  She yanked the door open.

  Eli. Again.

  He stood on her front step, his helmet resting under one arm, his other hand in the front pocket of his blue jeans.

  “What do you want?” she asked over the sounds of Gracie’s wails.

  As soon as she said the words, she regretted them. She hadn’t meant to sound so combative. The agitation that swirled around her in his presence was an unfamiliar emotion she didn’t know how to deal with.

  Plus Gracie was crying, and once again Eli was witness to it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said more quietly, trying to shush her sister. “It’s just…” She let the sentence trail off, then stood back, pulling the door wider open for him. “Please come in. I’m sorry I snapped. I’m feeling a little frazzled right now. I have to confess that’s an unfamiliar feeling for me.” She pushed the hair that had come loose from her ponytail back from her face, suddenly aware of her bare feet, frayed blue jeans and ratty T-shirt. After Gracie had ruined two of her blouses and gotten ink on one of her best suits, she had given up on office attire.

  Gracie drew in a shaky breath, let out a halfhearted cry and then reached out to Eli. He set his helmet on a delicate table that flanked the wide glass doors of the foyer and took Gracie in his arms.

  “How is she doing?” Eli asked, pulling back to look at her. He laid the back of his hand against her forehead, then smiled. “Hey, Gracie, except for those tears in your eyes, you are just fine.” He rubbed them away with his thumb in a fatherly gesture.

  “She is fine,” Rachel insisted, feeling a tad defensive. Why was Eli coming around again? She was doing all the things she was supposed to. If she needed his help or advice she would have called him. “She’s crying because she’s miffed that my mouse won’t come and play with her.”

  Eli gave her a puzzled smile. A smile which, in spite of her momentary pique with him, made her feel fluttery.

  “She fell trying to pull my computer mouse off my desk,” Rachel explained, tucking her hands in the back pockets of her blue jeans.