From the Heart

forest, streams. Last time I went home, he was still making house calls.” He’ll be making them when he’s a hundred, she thought, and missed him suddenly, acutely. It had been too long since she’d been home. “He’s an incredible man—big and strapping with white hair and a big, booming voice. Gentle hands.”
    “It would be nice to have a grandfather,” Alison murmured, trying to picture him. “Did you see him often when you were growing up?”
    “Every day.” Kasey recognized the wistfulness. She reached out to touch Alison’s hair. “My parents were killed when I was eight. He raised me.”
    Alison’s eyes were very intense. “Did you miss them?”
    “Sometimes I still do.” She’s still hurting, Kasey thought. I wonder if any of them know it. “To me, they’ll always be young and happy together. It makes it easier.”
    “They used to laugh,” Alison murmured. “I can remember them laughing.”
    “That’s a good memory. You’ll always have it.” There’s not enough laughter here, Kasey decided and felt a quick flash ofanger for Jordan. Not nearly enough. “Alison.” She broke into the child’s thoughts. “I bet you dress for dinner.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Please.” Kasey grinned and shook her head. “Don’t call me that. It makes me feel a million years old. Call me Kasey.”
    “Grandmother wouldn’t approve if I called an adult by her first name.”
    “Call me Kasey anyway and I’ll deal with your grandmother if necessary. Why don’t you come up and help me find something to wear? I don’t want to disgrace the Taylor name.”
    Alison stared at her. “You want me to help you pick out a dress?”
    “You probably know more about it than I do.” Kasey smiled as she tucked Alison’s arm in hers.
     
    A few hours later Kasey stood at the doorway of the drawing room observing its occupants.
    Beatrice Taylor sat in the gold brocade chair. She wore black silk and diamonds. Jewels glittered at her ears and throat. Alison was at the piano, dutifully practicing a selection from Brahms. Jordan stood at the bar mixing a batch of pre-dinner martinis.
    The family hour. Kasey grimaced. She thought of the dinners she had shared with her grandfather—the laughter, the arguments. She thought of the noisy meals at college, with conversations ranging from the intellectual to the bizarre. She thought of the often inedible meals on various digs. Did money box you in this way? she wondered. Or was it a matter of choice?
    Kasey waited until Alison had struggled through the last notes before entering the room. “Hi. You know, a person could wander around this place for days and not see another living soul.”
    “Miss Wyatt. You had only to ring for one of the staff. You would have been directed to the drawing room.”
    “Oh, that’s all right. I finally made it. I hope I’m not late.”
    “Not at all,” Jordan said. “I have only just begun to make a cocktail. How about a martini? Or perhaps you’ll tell me what you want done with this tequila?”
    “You got some?” Smiling, she moved to join him. “That was a nice thing to do. May I fix it?” She took the bottle from Jordan. “Watch carefully. I’m about to trust you with an old, closely guarded secret.”
    “Kasey’s grandfather is a doctor,” Alison announced suddenly. Beatrice shifted her attention from the couple at the bar to her granddaughter.
    “Who is Kasey, dear?” Her tone was mildly annoyed. “One of your friends at school?”
    Kasey glanced over to see Alison blush. “I’m Kasey, Mrs. Taylor,” she answered easily. “You have to give it a good squeeze of lemon,” she told Jordan and demonstrated. “I asked Alison to call me by my first name, Mrs. Taylor. Are you going to have one of these, Jordan?” She poured two glasses without waiting for his answer. She smiled at Beatrice, sipped, then turned back to Jordan. “What do you think?” she asked him. “Has a nice kick, doesn’t it?”
    He sipped, watching her. “Delicious,” he murmured. “And unexpected.”
    She gave a quiet laugh, knowing he spoke of her and not the drink.
    He found himself once more having to control the desire to touch her hair. “Don’t you like knowing where your life’s leading?”
    “Oh, good grief, no!” she said immediately. “I want to be surprised. Don’t you like surprises, Jordan?”
    “I’m not at all sure,” he murmured. He touched the rim of his glass to hers. “To the unexpected, then. For the