In the morning, Heather left her room to check on Evelyn. Her brows furrowed as she placed a hand on the girl’s clammy forehead. The fever had returned, and Evelyn felt hot to the touch.
“Evelyn, how do you feel?” She ran her hand along Evelyn’s cheek.
“I feel hot, but my body is shivering.”
“You should eat something small for breakfast.”
“But I don’t feel hungry.”
“You need food to help you feel stronger. I’ll tell Ms. Archer to make you some oatmeal. That’ll soothe your stomach.”
Evelyn nodded her head into the pillow. “Heather, why won’t the fever go away? Why isn’t the medicine working?” Her voice sounded tired.
“It’s because your immune system is weak from the cancer, and it’s a lot harder for your body to fight off the infection. I’m going to give you some more ibuprofen. If the fever doesn’t break, I’m afraid we’re going to have to take you to the hospital for antibiotics.”
“Will that cure my fever?” Evelyn looked at her through narrowed eyes.
Heather gave her a reassuring pat on the arm. While a part of her was concerned for Evelyn’s health, she didn’t want to alarm the girl. She knew that it was important for Evelyn to maintain a positive attitude to fight the cancer.
“Yes, I think it will.” She grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen and gave her the fever reducing medication along with her chemo. Heather prayed again over her, asking God to help the fever break before she headed downstairs to ask Ms. Archer if she could prepare oatmeal for Evelyn.
When Evelyn had finished her breakfast, Heather left her alone to rest. All they could do now was wait a few hours and hope that it would help her.
Heather searched the study for Michael, hoping to update him on the condition of Evelyn’s health, but he was nowhere to be found, and she assumed he must have left for work. As she came down the hall from the study, a loud commotion at the front door caught her attention. As she rounded the corner, she caught sight of Cynthia Wilson, decked out in an embroidered leopard print coat and black ankle boots. Heather couldn’t help laughing inside. The woman looked like she had just returned from an African safari and was wearing her prize catch. The silky material danced behind her as she marched in the foyer as if she were on a mission. Heather could hear Mr. Reagan tell Cynthia that Michael was away on business, but it seemed the woman had another agenda on her mind. She watched Mr. Reagan shut the front door and rush to keep up with Cynthia as she headed for the stairs. Heather made her way to the foyer to greet her.
“Miss Wilson, how nice of you to drop by.”
Cynthia stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to greet her. “Oh, it’s you, Heather. I came as soon as I heard poor Christie was sick. Is she okay? I’ll go straight up to see her. She’s not contagious is she?” Without waiting for an answer, Miss Wilson turned and climbed the stairs gracefully as if she were already the new Mrs. Robbins.
Heather scaled the stairs behind her. Why did the woman insist on calling the girl “Christie”? Evelyn had made it clear that it upset her and made her feel like a baby, but it seemed Miss Wilson had a mind of her own, no matter what anyone else said or wanted.
“Is Michael here? I haven’t been able to get in touch with him all day.” Cynthia glanced over at Heather and then at Evelyn, who was resting comfortably in her bed.
“Actually no, I haven’t. I tried to get in touch with him at work, but he wasn’t there.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t bother him at work, Miss Parks. He’s a very busy man. Where is Linda anyway? Isn’t she normally hovering about somewhere?”
Heather sucked in a breath as she sat down on the stool at the foot of the bed, trying to maintain her patience. “She’s on vacation helping another family for the week.”
“Vacation? But she’s still working?” Cynthia pondered this for a moment as she sat down in a chair across from Evelyn’s bed. “How dreadful that must be.” The hypocritical woman focused on her newest black diamond manicure.
The oldest of three children, Cynthia had grown up in the rough neighborhoods of East Los Angeles. The snobbish woman could never forget the many times she went on “vacation” as a teen while her mom worked at a local diner. Her mother was an alcoholic and often left with different guys for several days without any warning. Cynthia would be left alone to shoulder the responsibilities of managing her little brother and sister. The pantry and fridge were empty half the time, forcing her to scramble for ways to keep their tummies from growling. As they grew older, her sister blossomed into a rare beauty, a blessing that also brought the attention of the wrong kind of men, especially in such a bad neighborhood. One day, her mother never returned, leaving her to take on all the household responsibilities.
She remembered sobbing on the living room sofa with no one to comfort her, and she vowed from that point on, she would never live in poverty again. She ultimately worked her way to the top of her company, manipulating every opportunity in her favor.
After tasting success, Cynthia’s unquenchable desire for the good life consumed her, and she made the decision to snag a rich man who could take care of her. She determined that she needed a nice, comfortable place to rest her head and establish herself. That was when fate came to the rescue, and she met Mr. Robbins at a social gathering and discovered how eligible he was. To a woman who had grown up in a simple two-bedroom home, Michael’s estate was massive. Not only was the eligible bachelor handsome, he was also wealthy. Convincing Michael that she came from a prominent family was the easy part. Her instinctual survival skills and natural acting ability could open many doors of opportunity. Cynthia wasn’t giving the man any excuses to turn her down. She needed to seal this deal.
Now, the only obstacles to her life of luxury were gaining the favor of his daughter and the help. Cynthia glanced over at Heather. The nurse was cute, maybe even captivating by her standards, but hardly worth worrying about. The simple garb of the woman paled in comparison to her thousand dollar dresses. Besides, she had more important things on her agenda and that was to show Michael she cared about his daughter. It was important to be that person for him, even if she didn’t feel emotionally connected with the girl. She just needed to get on Evelyn’s good side, just enough to gain her support until they got married. Then she would see to it that everything would slowly change to suit her taste.
Cynthia couldn’t help feeling irritated after canceling a trip to Europe so she could come down to the cove and show Michael she could be a supportive stepmother to Evelyn. After all the work she had put in to rearrange flights and hotel reservations, her fiancé wasn’t even there to see her efforts. She forced a heavy sigh from her lips as she stood up from her chair.
“I’m famished; can you see about preparing something delicious for me, like a turkey panini or croissant sandwich?” She glanced over at Heather as if she were one of the hired help.
Heather bit her tongue. Don’t let the woman get to you, Heather. Her sinful nature desperately wanted to tell the woman to get off her high horse and stop acting like a spoiled high society brat. But her Christian conscience won the battle, reminding her she needed to love the woman unconditionally. “I’m sorry, but I can’t answer for Ms. Avery. You’ll have to ask her that question yourself. But if you head down to the kitchen, I’m sure she can help you.”
Heather could tell her response didn’t sit well with the woman. Cynthia wrinkled her lips together with exasperation. She brushed a piece of lint from her rayon outfit before walking over and placing a hand against Evelyn’s forehead. “She doesn’t feel that hot now.” Cynthia returned to the chair and sat down.
Evelyn’s eyes fluttered as she began to stir. A yawn escaped her mouth. “Heather, I feel a bit better now.” She stretched out her arms and opened her eyes. “I was having a weird dream that Miss Wilson was here being nosy again and calling me Christie.” She opened her eyes and her jaw dropped as her gaze drifted to the scowl on Miss Wilson’s face. Evelyn pulled the covers up over her head and cowered beneath it.
Miss Wilson gave a sigh of exasperation as she lifted her chin. “Well ... I think I’ll head downstairs now. I’ll stay for dinner since there’s no one keeping things running here while Michael’s working.” She gazed at Evelyn. “I assume you’ll eat up here.”
Evelyn nodded from behind the covers.
Cynthia Wilson rose to her feet and exited the room like a movie star on the red carpet. The walls shook as she closed the door behind her. Heather stole a glance at Evelyn just as a giggle escaped the girl’s lips.
As much as Heather wanted to act professional, she couldn’t keep a straight face. Her body shook as she chuckled loudly with Evelyn. The two laughed for almost a minute until Evelyn began coughing uncontrollably. Concerned about the girl’s condition, Heather handed her a cup of water and placed a stethoscope on her chest. She listened in silence until seconds later wrinkles creased her forehead as she heard the unmistakable sound of wheezing in her lungs. Heather looked at the rise and fall of Evelyn’s chest as she struggled to catch her breath.
Heather pursed her lips with concern. Where had Michael gone? She thought he would have notified her of his whereabouts just in case she needed to reach him about Evelyn’s condition. But he had vanished without as much as a good-bye.
She gave Evelyn some bronchial medication and had her choose a story for them to read together. Spending time reading with Evelyn seemed so natural like a mother reading to her daughter. In some unexplainable way, Heather felt responsible for the girl, and the truth was, she didn’t mind it.
The two spent the next hour reading one of Evelyn’s favorite princess books, talking and laughing about its contents before eventually falling asleep together on the bed.
Their long nap was interrupted by a knock on the bedroom door. Heather rubbed the sleep from her eyes and slowly made her way over to the door. She cracked it slightly and gazed into Mr. Reagan’s face.
“Miss Heather, hello. I wanted to see if you would like to come down to meet the new security staff that Mr. Robbins has hired?”
“Security staff? Oh, of course.” She stole a glance at Evelyn, who was still fast asleep, and quietly slipped out the room and followed Reagan down the hall and stairs.
“I should warn you, ma’am, we still have our ... wonderful ... guest.” His eyes hovered near his brows.
“Thank you, Reagan, I understand. I hope it hasn’t been too hard on you.” He smiled faintly at her, and they turned into the hall.
“Fortunately, Mr. Robbins just got home, and is ... well ... distracting her.”
“Really? Good, I need to talk to him about Evelyn.”
As they rounded the corner, they were greeted with the sight of Michael with his arm around Cynthia. They seemed to be in deep discussion about the state of his security. Heather couldn’t help marveling at his angular jaw and muscular frame. Her employer looked just as handsome as ever, and she felt a pang of sadness at the thought that soon he would no longer be an eligible bachelor.
Michael’s gaze traveled from Cynthia to Heather, and he excused himself before making his way over to greet her.
“Heather, I have so much to tell you. I was in a business meeting all day, and I couldn’t get cell reception inside the building.” His face grew serious. “How is Evelyn doing?”
“We really need to talk. I’m having trouble keeping her fever down, and I can hear some wheezing. If she’s not better by morning, I think we need to consider taking her to the hospital.”
“It’s getting worse then?” His gaze bounced over to Cynthia, who was engaged in laughter with one of the new guards, and then back at Heather, who shrugged slightly.
He clapped his hands together loudly. “Okay guys, I want to make a few introductions.” Silence blanketed the room as all the guards turned to look at their new employer. He rested a hand on Heather’s shoulder.
“This is Heather; she’s my daughter’s nurse and stays in a room upstairs. You’ve all met Reagan, and he can give you a tour of the rooms later and identify who lives where. My daughter’s room is down the hall from hers. Linda is our nanny, who is normally here, but is out this week. This, of course, is my fiancée, Miss Wilson.” His fiancée stopped chattering long enough to nod at the men. “She’s here occasionally, and you’ve met both the gardeners. Aside from Miss Jamie, who you all met earlier, that’s about everyone who lives here. Anyone else should raise a red flag. I’d appreciate a daily report on any suspicious activity.” He shook hands with the men, and they immediately made their way to their newly assigned zones. While the sight of security would make anyone else feel safer, Heather couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that something terrible was about to happen.