Deeply Devoted by Maggie Brendan Page B

through the clear glass front of the door labeled Private Investigator in bold black lettering. Satisfied with how her new hat looked perched to one side, she swung open the door. She knew if she wanted to uncover personal information about her daughter-in-law, it wouldn’t come from Peter. What if this woman was a gold digger? Why Peter hadn’t asked Dorothy Miller to marry him was simply beyond her. Dorothy’s family was respected, and her father was their beloved family attorney. It made no sense at all. Dorothy, a schoolteacher, was kindhearted and comely. She and Peter would have made a nice match with her blonde hair and blue eyes, and their children would have reflected their good looks. Not like that brazen redheaded Catharine, with the strange accent and brooding eyes.
    Clara squared her shoulders and smiled at the man hunched over a sheaf of papers at a battered wooden desk. He stood as she walked toward him. Stretching out her gloved hand, she greeted him with a smile. “I’m Clara Andersen.” She took a step back and let go of his hand.
    “I’m Mac Foster. Nice to meet you.” He pushed his coat back, his hands on his hips, and looked intently at her. “What can I help you with, Mrs. Andersen?”
    She leveled a steady look at him, but inside she was trembling. She’d never done anything like this in her life. “I need to have a background check done . . . er . . . on a certain individual.” She paused nervously, fingering the collar of her jabot blouse. “It needs to be done with utmost haste. Can you help me with that?”
    “I can most certainly.” He paused and pushed back a lock of dark hair touched with gray that fell over his eyes. “But it’ll cost you, since I usually handle, shall we say . . . delicate situations.” His mouth smiled, but his dark eyes narrowed as he looked her up and down. “Please, have a seat.” He picked up a box of files from a chair next to his desk and gestured with his hand.
    Clara’s heart fluttered in her chest. Mac seemed a take-charge man with a direct approach. Good. It’d take a man like him to dig around to uncover any shred of evidence that she could use against her daughter-in-law. And boy, when she did have something—and she knew she would—Peter would thank his mother for saving him.
    “I’ll pour us a cup of coffee while we talk.” Mac moved toward the coffeepot that sat simmering on the potbellied stove. Ignoring his offer of coffee, Clara squirmed in her chair, took a deep breath, and began.
    “My son, whom I love very much, has hastily married a woman of unknown means and questionable character who came from Holland looking for a husband. And brought along her two sisters! I know nothing about her at all. My son lives on a wheat farm that my husband and I gave him. I believe her to be more interested in the land and becoming a citizen of our country than caring about my son. I want you to find out more about her.” She looked him directly in the eyes to show that she was telling the truth.
    Mac’s eyes narrowed as he rubbed his chin with his thumb. “Let me get this straight—the son that you say you love so much is newly married, and you want to destroy that?” He cocked his head and waited for her reply.
    Clara puffed out her chest. “I most certainly do not! I’m looking out for his own best interests.”
    Mac rolled his chair around to her side of the desk. “When was the last time someone looked out for your best interests, Mrs. Andersen?” Mac said with mischief in his twinkling eyes.
    “That is none of your concern, Mr. Foster. Are you going to help me, or should I just leave now?” How dare he make a pass at her! Or was it that? It had been too many years since anyone had been directly concerned about her personally. Maybe too long for her to care . . .
    Mac straddled his chair. “If you have the cash, then I can assure you I have the time, madam. But for starters, call me Mac.” He sipped his coffee as he eyed