The Millionaire Takes A Bride. Kate Little
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hope so,” Jackson answered. “I haven’t made any calls yet.”
“The storm front isn’t expected to pass this area until late tonight. A front of cooler, drier air is moving south, through the midwestern states, at about twenty miles per hour,” Noah explained in a patient tone to the adults. “It could reach us tonight. Or could be stalled out by another low pressure system coming in from the Gulf region,” he warned.
Jackson stared at the boy, wide-eyed, a forkful of pancakes held halfway between his plate and mouth. “You don’t say.”
“Noah is very interested in the weather,” Georgia explained. “He has a weather-band radio up in his room.”
“Can I watch the tow truck when it comes, Mom?” Noah asked, suddenly sounding his age again. “Please?” he wheedled.
“We’ll see,” Georgia replied.
“I bet they’ll send a flatbed,” Noah said with anticipation.
“They’d better send a tugboat,” Jackson replied glumly as he glanced out the window. He dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “Great pancakes, by the way,” he added to Georgia.
“Thanks,” Georgia replied. Was her cooking softening him up, she wondered? He hadn’t mentioned Will or her so-called wedding plans in—what was it?—an entire ten minutes.
“I bet Will can eat a dozen of these,” Jackson said with a challenging look at Georgia. “He always had a thing for blueberry pancakes.”
Noah’s face brightened. “Do you know my uncle Will?”
“Don’t be silly, Noah,” Georgia said nervously. “How could he know Uncle Will? He means…someone else.”
She glanced back at Jackson and felt her throat get tight.
It was too late. The damage had been done. His tense, alert expression was that of a lion who had just caught the scent of his prey.
“You have an uncle Will, do you?” he asked Noah in a light, conversational tone. “That’s funny. I have a brother with the same name.”
“What a coincidence,” Georgia said, interrupting. She felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. “More pancakes anyone? Bacon? Orange juice?”
“I’ll have another pancake, please,” Noah said.
Jackson glared at her. He turned his attention back to his breakfast, obviously debating the ethics of prodding her son for information.
“When you’re done with your breakfast, I want you to go straight upstairs and…clean up your room,” Georgia said firmly to Noah.
“But my room is totally neat,” Noah protested. “You made me pick up yesterday, Mom, before I got my allowance. Don’t you remember?”
“How about that hamster cage?” Georgia persisted. “I think Harry needs his cage cleaned.”
“But, Mom…” Noah complained as he swallowed the last of his breakfast.
“Don’t argue with your mother, son,” Jackson said firmly.
His deep, commanding voice surprised both Georgia and Noah. They both stared over at him. Georgia didn’t know whether to thank him—or tell him he had no right to interfere with her parenting.
Noah glanced over at Jackson, then seemed resigned to obeying. “Okay, okay.” He got up from his chair and took his plate to the sink. “I guess Harry’s cage could use a cleanup.”
Georgia felt relieved as she watched her son leave the kitchen. As if she’d averted a near disaster.
But the feeling of impending doom was on her again when Jackson suddenly rose from his chair with a warm smile. “Hey, Noah. I’d love to see your room,” he said brightly. “Can I help with the hamster?”
“Uh…sure,” Noah replied. He glanced at Georgia as if checking for her approval, but Georgia was too shocked to object.
So he interpreted her momentary silence as an okay. “Harry is unique,” he eagerly explained to Jackson. “He only has three legs, but it doesn’t bother him any. He runs on his wheel and everything. I also have a hermit crab and a newt,” he said proudly.
“You don’t say?” Jackson replied.
“Uncle Will says the next time he comes, he’s going to bring me real rat. A white one.”
“A white rat, eh?” Jackson leaned back in his chair, clearly fascinated by this turn in the conversation. “Now, whatever made your uncle think of bringing you a rat for a pet?”
“He’s a scientist. An ornithologist. That means he studies birds. He specializes in birds that live near the ocean,” Noah explained. “But they use white rats a lot at the university where he teaches. In the laboratory…for experiments and stuff.”
“Oh, your uncle is an ornithologist,” Jackson repeated quietly. “Very impressive. And there’s another coincidence. My brother Will is a marine ornithologist, too.”
His tone brought to mind the rumble of distant thunder, Georgia thought. But Noah didn’t seem to notice and prattled on.
“Aunt Faith says once she had a white rat as a pet, and Mommy thought the tail was creepy. She screamed every time my aunt brought it anywhere near her.”
“Aunt Faith?” Jackson’s voice rose on a puzzled note and Georgia’s heart skipped a beat. Here it comes, she thought, bracing herself. “Who is Aunt Faith?” Jackson asked patiently.
“My mom’s sister,” Noah replied, as if everyone knew that.
“She and Uncle Will stayed here for a few weeks, then they left to get ma—”
“Jackson?” Georgia cut in. “I think we need to talk for a moment. Before you check out Noah’s menagerie, I mean.”
This had gone far enough, Georgia decided. She wasn’t going to sit back and watch Noah get stuck in the middle of this totally adult mess. If anyone was going to tell Jackson the truth, it was up to her.
“If you say so, Georgia,” he replied. He turned to her, and she could see that he knew she was ready to tell all. He practically rubbed his hands together in anticipation, she noticed.
But before he moved in for the kill, he thoughtfully turned to Noah. “Why don’t you start on Harry’s cage? I’ll be up in a minute,” he promised. He reached out and ruffled Noah’s dirty-blond hair.
“Okay,” Noah agreed, giving Jackson a solemn look. “I’ll get everyone ready.”
Watching their exchange, Georgia felt oddly touched to see Jackson treat Noah with such kind, consideration. Then she whisked the thought aside. She couldn’t afford warm feelings toward Jackson Bradshaw.
Not now. Not ever.
“So, are you ready to tell me about Uncle Will…and Aunt Faith?” Jackson asked once Noah had left the room.
“Pretty low-down of you to try to pry it out of my child,” Georgia accused him.
For a moment she could have sworn he looked ashamed of himself. Practically contrite. Then the look vanished, replaced by his more familiar expression of firm determination.
“I merely wish to know where my brother is hiding out. I’ll do whatever I have to, to find out.”
“I’ve already told you, Jackson, I have no idea where Will is. He was here for a while, that much is true. But they purposely didn’t tell me where they were going when they left. Now you’ll just have to believe me and be on your merry way….” Georgia rattled off in a rush.
“Just slow down a moment, please.” Jackson signaled with upraised hands. “Faith is your sister, correct?”
She nodded and bit her lower