Unmasked (Godmother Security Book 1) by June Stevens, DJ Westerfield Page B

the way we came.”
    He looked for a moment like he would argue, but just turned and started back up the road, his gait a bit faster than earlier.  He was clearly annoyed.
    Instead of being annoyed herself, Cindy was a bit sad.  He’d been talking so freely, and from the way he talked about the history of the farm, she could tell he really loved it.  She hated that his good mood was gone.  “We don’t have to hurry though.  I’d like to hear more about how the farm was renovated,” she called after him.
    He stopped and turned back to her.  He flashed that amazing, melt your heart grin.  “Well, come on then.”  When she caught up with him, he continued. “When we vacationed here, we always used the cabin because the farm house was just too dilapidated.  Dad had a few improvements done.   The only major one was having the boathouse built.  We needed somewhere to store our boats and he had the room put in for me.  The cabin was only one big room, and as I got older he and mom wanted more privacy, of course.  And I, as the precocious eight-year-old that I was, thought it was cool to sleep in the boathouse all by myself.”
    Cindy slid a sideways glance at him.  “You weren’t scared?”
    “Of course not.  Boys don’t get scared.”
    She stopped and gave him a pointed look. 
    “Okay, maybe I was scared a little the first night, or two.  But you try sleeping in a room where there are boats rocking and creaking and knocking against the dock in the next room.  You would have been scared too.  It sounded like ghosts coming to get me.”
    She laughed at his indignant look.  She tried to stop, but the giggles just kept rolling out.
    He threw his hands up in mock exasperation.  “I can’t go on with the story if you insist on giggling like a hyena.”
    That just made her laugh harder.  After a minute she took a deep breath.  “Okay, I’m sorry.  I’m good.  Please, go on,” she said, suppressing more chuckles.    
    “Where was I?” he said, pretending to be offended.  “Oh, yes. Mom hated seeing the farm house just sit.  She had been trying to get Dad to renovate it for years.  She talked him into doing it when I was twelve, and adding on to the cabin at the same time. But he needed someone here to oversee the construction, and then keep the place up throughout the year.”
    “And that’s when they hired the Whites?” Cindy asked, her laughter faded and her interest in his tale renewed.
    Sebastian shot her a glance.  “You ask a lot of questions.  I like that.”  He shot her a devastating smile.  “Mrs. White had worked for Mom’s family, and came with her when she married Dad.  Mrs. White was the housekeeper until I was born, and then she was full time Nanny to me.  Mr. White is a brilliant landscaper and Dad wanted his expertise for the flowers out here.  They came up with us for a weekend to consult and fell in love with the area. Dad offered Mr. White the job of overseeing the construction, planning the landscaping, and then care-taking when it was all complete.  Their daughter had just started college and I didn’t need a Nanny anymore, so they took it.  They’ve been here ever since.  About twenty years now.”
    “You live here most of the time, don’t you?”
    “When I’m not in the city.  And that is more than most people know.  Even now that I’m taking over, most of what I do can be done remotely.  As long as I have a computer and Internet, I’m set.”
    “I understand having an apartment in the city, but why do you have a fake country house?”  She knew she was being nosy, but that question had burned in her mind all day.
    “It’s not fake.  Well, I guess it kind of is.  This place has always been the place I feel most at peace.  It has always been very private to me.  Other than the contractors that did the work on the houses and the occasional stray hiker, very few people have set foot on this property since the fifties.  I had the