Because You're Mine(32)

Alanna raised her hand to knock when she heard whistling behind her. She turned to see Hattie walking toward the house with a basket of grasses. Her hair was down today, a curly white waterfall that came to her waist. She wore capris and a matching top in a bold red Hawaiian pattern. Her feet were bare.

She hesitated when she saw Alanna, then smiled. “I hoped you’d come for a visit.” She set the basket on top of a tree stump and came the last few feet. “Have you had tea?”

“I have.” Alanna followed her inside. The scent of cinnamon greeted her, and she closed the door behind her. The drawing room was miniscule, just big enough for a small sofa and two wing chairs pulled into a cozy arrangement by the open hearth of a fireplace.

There were a couple of pictures on the walls, and she saw a photo of a young boy in a frame on a table by the sofa. She picked it up and studied it. The child was about five.

“That’s your Barry,” Hattie said. “He was quite a handful back then.”

Alanna set the picture back. “When did you quit working for the Kavanaghs?”

Hattie settled on the sofa and drew her legs up under her like a young girl might. “Barry was fifteen. He didn’t need me anymore.”

“Did you care for Grady?”

“I was gone by the time he came. He’s not been treated well, from what I can see. Poor boy. Patricia clearly hates him. You’ve not met her yet, you said?”

“Not yet.”

“Be prepared. She hates all things Irish. It’s a constant battle between her and Barry’s father, Richard, who practically idolizes his heritage. Barry too. She’ll hate your guts at first sight.”

Lovely. Alanna sat in the wing chair. From this vantage point she could catch a glimpse of the manor house through the trees. She realized why she’d come this morning. She wanted to ask Hattie’s opinion on the incident regarding the cats. It was a difficult subject to bring up.

She twisted a red curl around her finger and glanced around the room as she tried to decide how much to reveal. A sweetgrass basket held magazines by the door. Another one held pens and stationery on the table by the picture of Barry. She knew there would be more in the other rooms of the house.

“Do you sell your baskets?” she asked. “I’d love to buy one.”

“I’ll give you one,” Hattie said. “What would you use it for?”

“I can’t let you do that,” Alanna protested.

“You can’t stop me. I’ll not take the money of a Kavanagh. I have three that are finished. Let me get them.”

She rose and exited the room. Alanna wished she hadn’t brought it up. She didn’t want Hattie to think she’d been hinting for a gift.

Hattie returned carrying three baskets. One was about forty centimeters square, and Alanna’s gaze was drawn to it. It would be large enough to store magazines and books by her bedside. The second was round and smallish. It might be good for pens and paper. The third was shaped like a boat.

“I can see you like this one.” Hattie extended the large square one toward her. “Take it. I’m honored to give it to you.”

Alanna’s fingers closed over the basket. Even the texture and weight of it made her smile. “Hattie, I know this must cost you dearly. Please let me pay you for it.” She’d heard what these baskets sold for. “I feel guilty to take it for free.”

“You’re family now, Alanna. Let this be the end of your protests.” Hattie set the other two baskets on the sofa and curled back up into her previous position. “Now tell me why you really came. Something is troubling you.”

Alanna clasped the basket to her chest and rested her chin on the top of it. “Is it usual for Americans to despise cats?”

Hattie frowned. “Cats? Why no. I have half a dozen kittens running around here most of the time, though usually different ones. No one cat seems to stay around for long. Most of us love our cats and spoil them rotten.”

“Last night Barry admitted he’d thrown a cat to the gator. The gator nearly got me when I saved the animal.”

Hattie blinked, then wet her lips and looked down at her hands.

“You’re not surprised.” Alanna tried not to show her shock.

“Barry has always been fascinated with the gators. From the time he was a child. Most often he fed them snakes and lizards. Sometimes rabbits when he could catch them.”

Alanna fought her revulsion. “Why does he like the gators so much?”

“Once he told me he admired the gator’s single-minded focus on its own needs.”

“But Barry is so selfless! He’s helped me through so many problems in the months I’ve known him, and he’s never asked for anything in return.”

When Hattie didn’t answer, Alanna shifted restlessly. Yes, Barry was focused, but that was a good thing. He’d always put her needs ahead of his own, so his obsession with such a savage animal unsettled her. “Do you think he’s thrown other cats to that gator?”

Hattie leaned forward and straightened an already perfect pile of magazines. “I really couldn’t say.”

Couldn’t or wouldn’t? “Did you see any evidence of cruelty when you were his nanny?”

“I shouldn’t be discussing the family this way,” Hattie said with an edge of firmness that warned she wouldn’t endure any more pressure.