Home Again Read online

  “Don’t you need to trust me?”

  Mark looked at her for a long moment.

  “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “You’re going to be coming to my home, plus you said we’d be going on outings with Joey. We’ll also have private meetings such as this one to discuss progress. I’m referring to you trusting me as a man, not just as Joey’s guardian. Do you trust me as a man?”

  “I…” Cedar stopped speaking.

  Why was Mark doing this? She didn’t intend to view him as a man. No, he was Joey’s guardian, his uncle, the person who was now that little boy’s father. Their relationship had nothing to do with Cedar, the woman, trusting Mark, the man.

  Mark Chandler unsettled her, made her acutely aware of her femininity and his incredible masculinity. She had no idea if she trusted him.

  She was having enough trouble trusting herself whenever she was near him.

  Dear Reader, Well, it’s September, which always sounds like a fresh start to me, no matter how old I get. And evidently we have six women this month who agree. In Home Again by Joan Elliott Pickart, a woman who can’t have children has decided to work with them in a professional capacity—but when she is assigned an orphaned little boy, she fears she’s in over her head. Then she meets his gorgeous guardian—and she’s sure of it!

  In the next installment of MOST LIKELY TO…, The Measure of a Man by Marie Ferrarella, a single mother attempting to help her beloved former professor joins forces with a former campus golden boy, now the college…custodian. What could have happened? Allison Leigh’s The Tycoon’s Marriage Bid pits a pregnant secretary against her ex-boss who, unbeknownst to him, has a real connection to her baby’s father. In The Other Side of Paradise by Laurie Paige, next up in her SEVEN DEVILS miniseries, a mysterious woman seeking refuge as a ranch hand learns that she may have more ties to the community than she could have ever suspected. When a beautiful nurse is assigned to care for a devastatingly handsome, if cantankerous, cowboy, the results are…well, you get the picture—but you can have it spelled out for you in Stella Bagwell’s next MEN OF THE WEST book, Taming a Dark Horse. And in Undercover Nanny by Wendy Warren, a domestically challenged female detective decides it’s necessary to penetrate the lair of single father and heir to a grocery fortune by pretending to be…his nanny. Hmm. It could work….

  So enjoy, and snuggle up. Fall weather is just around the corner….

  Happy reading!

  Gail Chasan

  Senior Editor

  JOAN ELLIOTT PICKART

  Home Again

  For Janet Elliott and Pat Elliott Hunt.

  My sisters, my friends.

  Books by Joan Elliott Pickart

  Silhouette Special Edition

  *Friends, Lovers…and Babies! #1011

  *The Father of Her Child #1025

  †Texas Dawn #1100

  †Texas Baby #1141

  Wife Most Wanted #1160

  The Rancher and the Amnesiac Bride #1204

  ΔThe Irresistible Mr. Sinclair #1256

  ΔThe Most Eligible M.D. #1262

  Man…Mercenary…Monarch #1303

  *To a MacAllister Born #1329

  *Her Little Secret #1377

  Single with Twins #1405

  ◊The Royal MacAllister #1477

  ◊Tall, Dark and Irresistible #1507

  ◊The Marrying MacAllister #1579

  ◊Accidental Family #1616

  The Homecoming Hero Returns #1694

  Home Again #1705

  Silhouette Desire

  *Angels and Elves #961

  Apache Dream Bride #999

  †Texas Moon #1051

  †Texas Glory #1088

  Just My Joe #1202

  ΔTaming Tall, Dark Brandon #1223

  *Baby: MacAllister-Made #1326

  *Plain Jane MacAllister #1462

  Silhouette Books

  *His Secret Son

  ◊Party of Three

  ◊Crowned Hearts

  “A Wish and a Prince”

  Previously published under the pseudonym Robin Elliott

  Silhouette Special Edition

  Rancher’s Heaven #909

  Mother at Heart #968

  Silhouette Intimate Moments

  Gauntlet Run #206

  Silhouette Desire

  Call It Love #213

  To Have It All #237

  Picture of Love #261

  Pennies in the Fountain #275

  Dawn’s Gift #303

  Brooke’s Chance #323

  Betting Man #344

  Silver Sands #362

  Lost and Found #384

  Out of the Cold #440

  Sophie’s Attic #725

  Not Just Another Perfect Wife #818

  Haven’s Call #859

  JOAN ELLIOTT PICKART

  is the author of over ninety-five novels. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys reading, needlework, gardening and attending craft shows on the town square. Joan has three all-grown-up daughters as well as a young daughter, Autumn, who is in elementary school. Joan, Autumn, and a three-pound poodle named Willow live in a charming small town in the high pine country of Arizona.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dear Puncho: I wish I could smile whole bunches like you do ’cause you look happy all the time. I don’t feel too happy ’cause my mom and dad went in the car and now they are angels and I miss them whole lots. My uncle Mark is sort of okay when he’s not grumpy and Cedar is way cool and I think they would be a good family for me but I don’t know if they want to be my family or not. Could you try real hard to make them be my family so I won’t be lonely?

  Your friend, Joey

  Chapter One

  Cedar Kennedy glanced at her watch and frowned. Her new client was ten minutes late for his five-o’clock appointment. Remembering that her secretary had left early for a dreaded trip to the dentist, Cedar picked up the files she’d been updating and walked to the outer office, where she placed the folders in Bethany’s in-box.

  She sat down in the chair behind the desk and flipped the page in the leather-bound appointment book to see what was on the agenda for tomorrow. Just as she closed the book, the door to the suite opened and a man entered, shoving the door closed behind him.

  In one quick perusal Cedar observed that her visitor was tall, with broad shoulders that stretched the material of a faded plaid shirt to the maximum, long legs clad in dusty jeans, and he was wearing heavy work boots. His features…goodness gracious…were rugged and blatantly masculine, his square jaw covered in an obvious five-o’clock shadow. He had thick black hair badly in need of a trim and extremely dark eyes that swept over the reception area before meeting her gaze as he approached the desk.

  This was one very earthy, handsome man, Cedar decided. Very handsome. And, if she were correct, he was also late for his appointment, and she fully intended to make clear that being on time was of the utmost importance.

  “Mr. Chandler?” Cedar asked, getting to her feet.

  “Yeah, I’m Mark Chandler,” he said.

  Perfect voice, Cedar thought. Deep, sort of rumbly, befitting a man of his size and physique.

  Mark Chandler glanced at the open door leading to her office and lowered his voice. “I’m a little late for my appointment,” he said. “Is this doc a real stickler about people being on time?” He looke
d at the nameplate on the desk. “I’d hate to start out on the wrong foot, Bethany…you know what I mean? I’m a desperate man and I need this doc’s help. Big-time.”

  He swiped the front of one thigh, then the other. “How does she feel about construction-site dust? I didn’t have a spare second to go home to shower and change clothes.”

  Cedar snapped her head back up to meet Mark Chandler’s gaze. She’d been watching the fascinating motion of his large hand on those muscled thighs and…oh, good grief…now he was dragging that hand through his thick hair in a gesture so incredibly male it was enough to make a woman weep.

  “I…” She stopped to clear her throat when she heard the strange little squeak that used to be her voice.

  “I’ve never talked to a shrink before,” Mark continued. “Is she all stuffy? Does she just nod a lot and say ‘mmm’? Man, I’m so out of my league being here, but I’m at the end of my rope. What’s the best way to get on the good side of this Dr. Kennedy, make her forget I blew it by being late?”

  “Mmm,” Cedar said, because she couldn’t resist, then frowned thoughtfully for good measure. “I personally don’t think that Dr. Kennedy is stuffy at all, Mr. Chandler. I’d suggest that you apologize for your tardiness and make it clear that you’ll be on time for future appointments.”

  “Yeah, okay, I can handle that. Well, go for it. Tell the shrinky-dink that I’m here.”

  “The shrinky-dink?” Cedar said, her eyes widening. “Dr. Kennedy is a psychologist, Mr. Chandler.”

  “Whatever.” Mark sighed. “Man, I’m beat. It was a long, rough day on the job. I’m tired, hungry and need a shower, so let’s get this show on the road.”

  “By all means,” Cedar said, rising from the chair. “Heaven forbid that you should be kept waiting now that you’ve graced us with your presence. Promptness is a virtue, Mr. Chandler. You’d do well to remember that.”

  “You had a long day, too, huh? I mean, you’re not exactly Miss Sunshine, Bethany. You’re a very attractive woman, but I bet you’d be even prettier if you smiled.”

  “Follow me, please,” Cedar said, walking past Mark toward her office.

  “Anywhere,” Mark said, then cringed when the receptionist glared at him over her shoulder.

  Nice, Mark thought, his gaze sweeping over Bethany as he trudged slowly behind. She had short, wavy blond hair, delicate features, and sensational blue eyes. Her navy slacks and pale-blue sweater revealed she had curves in all the right places. Oh, yeah, very nice. Except for the fact that she was a tad grumpy.

  They entered the doctor’s large, comfortably furnished office and Bethany motioned for him to sit in one of the two easy chairs fronting a mahogany desk. Mark sank into one of the chairs and propped the ankle of one leg on the knee of the other.

  She stared at him for a long moment, then walked slowly behind the desk to settle into a high-backed leather chair.

  “Mr. Chandler,” she said, folding her hands atop a file on the desk. “I’m Dr. Cedar Kennedy. Please be on time for your appointments in the future, and if that sounds stuffy, tough.”

  “Oh-h-h, hell,” Mark said, closing his eyes for a moment, before looking at her again. “You’re not the receptionist?”

  “No.”

  “You might have said something before I made a total jerk of myself,” he said.

  “But you were doing such a terrific job of it, I hated to interrupt.”

  “Okay, okay,” Mark said, raising both hands in a gesture of peace. “Could we start over? I’m sorry I was late. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry I’m getting your plushy office dusty. That will probably happen again. Look, I need your help and Dr. Gibson, my personal doctor, said you’re the best in the business for dealing with my kind of problem. Will you help me? Please?”

  Cedar sank back into her chair and smiled at Mark Chandler. “I’ll certainly try,” she said. “Now then, why don’t you tell me why you’re here. Just let the words flow and I’ll take some notes as you speak. That way I can… Is something wrong? You’re looking at me so…so intently as though I suddenly grew a second nose or something.”

  “What? Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I was doing that, but…I said earlier you’d be even prettier if you smiled, but that doesn’t even begin to cut it. Your face just lit up and your eyes actually sparkled. I’ve never seen eyes sparkle before. Are you wearing contact lenses?”

  “No, I’m not,” Cedar said, feeling a warm flush stain her cheeks as she digested Mark’s compliments.

  This will never do, she admonished herself. This rough-hewn hunk was throwing her totally off-kilter and that wasn’t like her at all, not one little bit. She had to regain control of this situation…right now. She was reacting to Mark on a personal level rather than a professional one, and that would never do.

  “Mr. Chandler,” she said coolly, “the clock is running and we’re wasting valuable time here. Shall we get down to business?”

  “You’re ticked,” he said. “Is there a rule that says a guy isn’t supposed to tell the shrink she’s a beautiful woman? Like I said, I’ve never talked to a shrink—ah, excuse me—a psychologist before. Could you give me a little slack on the protocol thing?”

  “Agreed,” Cedar said. “Now, tell me, why are you here?”

  He sighed. It was a defeated-sounding sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul. Cedar leaned forward, encouraging Mark to talk.

  “I’m here because of Joey,” he said quietly. “He’s so damn sad and I can’t reach him no matter what I do. He’s got walls built around himself and he won’t let me get close to him. We can’t go on like this.”

  Cedar opened the file on her desk and wrote Joey on the paper inside.

  Who was Joey? she wondered, waiting for Mark to continue. From the pain in his voice it was obvious that Joey was very important to him. Dr. Gibson knew her specialty, so Cedar could hazard one guess as to who Joey was.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Chandler,” she said. “I’m afraid I’m at a bit of a disadvantage. If she were here, Bethany would have had you fill out a form as a new client but I failed to do that. Normally, I would know who Joey is by reading that information. I’ll remember to give you the form after our session. Right now, why don’t we just talk? Are you married? Is Joey your son?”

  “No, I’m not married. Never have been. Joey is my nephew.”

  Hooray, Mark Chandler isn’t married, Cedar thought, then swallowed heavily. Where on earth had that reaction come from? Talk about unprofessional. And talk about out of character for her to be so focused on the physical attributes and marital status of a man she’d just met. This was absurd. She was just tired, that’s all. It had been a very long, busy day. Fine. She was okay now.

  “Your nephew,” she repeated, writing the fact on the sheet. “How old is he?”

  “Seven.”

  “Why don’t you tell me about Joey?”

  Mark sighed again. “He’s my sister Mary’s son. Mary and her husband, John, were killed in an automobile accident two months ago. Joey wasn’t in the car because he was spending the night at a friend’s house.”

  Cedar nodded and made more notes on the paper.

  “I flew to New York for the funeral and was there about three weeks taking care of legal matters. Joey spent a lot of time at the neighbor’s house during those weeks because I was very busy. Finally, though, I was able to bring him back here to Phoenix. I’m Joey’s legal guardian, you see.”

  “How did he feel about all that?”

  Mark shrugged. “He didn’t really react at all. He’s like a zombie. He hardly talks to me, spends most of his time alone in his bedroom, and just seems to be operating in his own little world where no one is allowed to enter. I enrolled him in school and his teacher called me in and said Joey doesn’t participate in class. He just sits there doing nothing, she said. I took him to Dr. Gibson to be sure he wasn’t sick or something and that’s how I ended up here.”

  “How well does Joey know you,
Mr. Chandler?” Cedar asked.

  “Call me Mark. My sister and I were close, talked on the phone at least once a week, but I couldn’t get to New York much because of work. I visited for a couple of days last Christmas, but…Joey recognizes me when he sees me, but know me? I guess I’d have to say he doesn’t really know me if that means feeling comfortable with me, or trusting me. I’m just Uncle Mark who showed up once in a while.”

  “Do you feel comfortable with him?”

  Mark uncrossed his legs and shifted in his chair.

  “Not…really,” he said, a deep frown knitting his brow. “I don’t have a clue what to say to him about his parents, or even about something as simple as how his day went. Dinner conversation is something like ‘So, Joey, how’d school go today?’ and he’ll say ‘’kay’ and that’s it for the entire meal. Then he asks to be excused and spends the rest of the evening in his room until I tell him it’s time for a bath and bed.”

  “It sounds as though Joey has his emotions under lock and key,” Cedar said.

  “That’s a good way to put it,” Mark said, producing a small smile. “I’m doing a lousy job with him and I realize that. I need help here. It is November already and if Joey doesn’t start doing some work at school, he’s liable to flunk second grade. Plus there’s so much tension in our house, you could cut it with a knife.”

  “All right,” Cedar said. “I have the basic information I need to start working with Joey. I do need you to fill out this form for his file, though. I’d like to see him three times a week to start. Is he available after school?”

  “Well, no, not exactly. A van takes him up from school to a day-care center, where I pick him up just before six when they close.”

  “That’s a long day for a little boy,” Cedar said.