Cassidy's Kids. Tara Taylor Quinn
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her teeth were snapping at Ellie—and at the helpless, innocent child Ellie had spent half the night holding. Suddenly the game had changed. The rules were different. It wasn’t just the clinic’s reputation, the family’s reputation that was at stake.
“You stay away from that baby, Chelsea Markum. He’s an innocent child whose life you could permanently affect by your purely fictional innuendoes.”
Blinking in surprise, Chelsea sat back, then stood up. “I’m just looking for the truth, Ellie. I have no desire to hurt the kid.”
“Right.” Ellie stood, too, signaling an end to the unwanted meeting. “Stay out of our lives, Chelsea.”
“I’m not the one who chose to live such a public life, Ms. Ellie Administrator Maitland. Maybe you better think about that one.”
The reporter’s last shot hit Ellie in a sore spot she’d been nursing since she was a child. It had been one of the biggest ironies of her life to be born into the socially prominent Maitland clan. She’d never had the chance to just be the plain Jane she really was. From the moment she was born, she’d had the family reputation to live up to. And it hadn’t taken the young Ellie long to figure out that, for her, that was an impossible task.
Her own goals were another story. They were something she could—and did—live up to. Something she could count on. Her goals were realistic, and meeting them brought her peace, if nothing else.
ELLIE WAS JUST PACKING UP for the day, earlier than usual since this was her night at the university, when she had another visitor. A welcome one.
“You in a hurry?” her older sister Abby asked, leaning against the door frame of Ellie’s office.
“A little,” Ellie told her, but she’d take time, anyway. She could always be a minute or two late for the economics class. She’d read a couple of chapters ahead, anyway.
“Was that Sloan Cassidy I saw leaving earlier today?”
Knowing better than to play dumb with Abby, Ellie nodded. But she didn’t want to talk about Sloan.
“The same Sloan Cassidy that you spent so many months refusing to cry over during high school?”
Trust her sister to have such an acute memory. Abby, who was an obstetrician at Maitland Maternity, was one of the smartest women Ellie had ever known.
“That’s him,” she said now, trying for a nonchalant smile. If she acted like she didn’t care, no one else would.
“What’s he want?”
“Help with his kids.”
Abby nodded, her eyes narrowing as she watched Ellie. “Your help?”
“Maybe,” Ellie answered evasively. She didn’t like the sudden light in Abby’s eyes. Didn’t trust it. Her sister might be intelligent, but she was also recently engaged and a bit loony with love.
Hoping to help Abby see sense, Ellie told her about Sloan’s divorce, his current problem, and the impossible and completely inappropriate thing he’d asked of her.
Abby smiled, straightening in the doorway. “So you’re going to help him?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Her older sister frowned. “Why not?”
“I don’t have time.” Ellie stated the obvious, leaving the less easily explained for herself. “How’s Marcie and the baby?” she asked quickly, shameless in her attempt at diversion.
It was a testimony to how much in love Abby was that she allowed herself to be diverted. “Great,” she answered with a grin. Abby had delivered her soon-to-be sister-in-law’s baby the week before. “They’re both home with Kyle, driving him crazy.”
Ellie had heard that Abby was spending all her free time at her fiancé’s house, as well. She’d never seen her sister so happy.
And as she went off to night class, she felt a little happier herself. It had taken Abby thirty-two years to find her happiness. Ellie still had lots of time.
SLOAN WAITED until the next morning to call her. But only because it took him that long to trust himself to do the right thing. He had to apologize. He’d had no business going to her—a Maitland—for help. She’d caught the fallout from a moment of weakness. And there was no excuse at all for the bullheadedness that hadn’t allowed him to accept no for an answer.
But he was done with that now.
“Ellie, it’s Sloan,” he began as soon as he heard her voice on the line. “Wait!” he said a little too loudly. “Don’t hang up, I just want to apologize.”
“Apologize?”
She sounded as though that were the last thing she’d expect from him. “For imposing on you. I had no business bothering you with my problems.”
“Apology accepted.”
If he’d been hoping she’d changed her mind, he’d been a fool. But it wouldn’t be the first time. Especially not where Miss Ellie Maitland was concerned. The woman made him crazy.
“Did you find a baby-sitter?” she asked, when he thought she’d probably hung up.
Tempted to just put an end to his misguided scheme, he almost lied to her. Almost.
“No.”
“Oh.”
There it was again. That note of longing in her voice. An echo, he was certain, of the longing he’d seen in her eyes as she’d gazed at his adorable little hellions. Not that he trusted his judgment where Ellie was concerned. He was probably making it all up.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help, Sloan, but you came to the wrong person,” she said as the silence grew too long again. “I know nothing about raising children.”
If only her excuse was valid, then maybe he’d be able to let go. If only he didn’t remember how grateful she’d been when he’d saved her from herself ten years before. If only he didn’t remember the life he’d discovered all cooped up inside her. If only he hadn’t kissed her that one time and ruined an incredible friendship…
“You’re a natural with children, El. As I recall, you spent more of your teenage years with little kids than you did with your peers.”
Sloan winced at his own words. What an incredibly asinine thing to remind her of—the fact that she’d been such a wallflower, she’d had to baby-sit to get out of the house. The worst thing was, she’d thought the fault had been hers, when, in fact, it had been exactly the opposite. The fault had been that of the ignorant and immature jerks in high school who hadn’t been able to see past the baggy clothes and glasses to the shapely body and quick mind they’d hidden.
Only Sloan had seen. And Sloan hadn’t been worthy of her incredible gifts.
Still wasn’t.
“Yeah, well,” she said after another long pause. “That was a long time ago. I’ve forgotten most of it.”
Ariel’s cup of milk hit Sloan in the head and burst open, spilling the thick white liquid down the side of his face and into the phone.
“What was that?” Ellie asked, just as Sloan cursed a blue, though whispered, streak.
“Ariel’s counterattack for my having strapped her in her high chair,” he said, as Alisha wound up, too. “No!” But as always, he was a fraction of a second too late. Alisha’s aim wasn’t quite as good. Her cup bounced off the cupboard before splashing milk all over the floor.
“I have to go, Ellie,” Sloan said, beaten, attempting to wipe the milk from his ear.
“Yes, well, bring the kids to the clinic until you get a sitter, Sloan. Beth would be happy to have them in the day care.”
“Thanks,”