Читать книгу A Weaver Proposal - Allison Leigh - Страница 10

He was watching her with those goading, green eyes.

“Not at all. I’d love to help.” The words came out of Sydney’s mouth before she could even form the thoughts.

She loved the surprised look on his face.

But when she looked beyond him, she could also see the shocked looks on the faces around her.

She had to admit that her encounter with Derek might have given him some reason to think she was a snob, but she didn’t think she’d given anyone else reason to think it. And if they weren’t thinking she was a snob, then they were thinking she was incapable.

She didn’t think she was a snob. She knew she’d been afforded luxuries and opportunities that many weren’t. She couldn’t change the wealthy parents she’d been born to, no matter how many times she’d wished otherwise.

But incapable?

That was a thornier issue altogether.

She focused on Tara, who was watching her with a puzzled expression. “I do have oodles of time on my hands.” For now, anyway. “And though I’m sure I’m not the most qualified—” she ignored Derek’s sudden cough beside her “—I’m willing to help out until you can find a person you’d prefer more.”

“Prefer!” Tara nearly sputtered the word. “Are you kidding me? You would be perfect!”

Now it was time for Sydney to return the shocked stare.

“J.D. has told me dozens of times how impeccable your style is,” Tara was going on. “I can’t wait to pick your brain.”

Sydney wasn’t sure what was more bemusing: J.D. thinking her style was impeccable, or that Tara was actually enthusiastic about having Sydney’s help. Feeling woefully self-conscious, she laughed a little. “I’m not sure what you’ll find, but you’re welcome to pick away. You could do that even without me volunteering to help at the shop.”

Tara waved her hand. “No volunteering. I’ll hire you if you want the job. Four days a week, to start, and the money’ll—”

Sydney absolutely didn’t want to talk money in front of all these people. Derek, most of all. “We can work that out later,” she said hurriedly.

“Great. Can you start tomorrow?”

Tara’s enthusiasm was hard to resist. “Sure.” Then Sydney quickly looked toward Maggie. “Unless I’m stepping on your toes.”

“Good grief, no,” Maggie assured her. “I’ll be able to drive down and see Early and Sofia for a few hours after all. My grandchildren,” she added. “Our other daughter, Angeline, and her husband, Brody, live in Sheridan.”

“And so does Maggie half the time,” Daniel drawled beside her.

She gave him a light swat. “I don’t hear you complaining about it,” she returned, laughing. “You’re worse than I am when it comes to spending time with the grandchildren. I figured getting down there a few times a month was doing good, but you want to go at least once a week.”

“All of Squire’s sons take after him,” Jaimie told Sydney. “But I think he’s still the worst when it comes to spoiling his great-grandchildren.”

“And meddling in the rest of our lives,” Matthew added, looking wry. “Damned old coot.”

Just listening to them made Sydney feel a little breathless. It was so plain how easily they spread their affection among each other.

There’d been family dinners among the Forrests.

But never one like this.

Her gaze ran over the jumble of informal pizza boxes and paper napkins accompanied by fine china and Waterford glassware. But it wasn’t even that eclectic mix of formal and incredibly informal that was so appealing to her. It was the easy acceptance of everyone who sat around that table. From squirming toddlers to squabbling teenagers to parents and grandparents. Everyone seemed to have a say and nobody was disregarded.

“Something wrong?” Derek was holding his longneck, his thumb picking at the label. “You’ve got a strange look on your face.”

She sat up a little straighter in her chair and folded her napkin over her empty plate. Funny. She didn’t even remember eating her salad. “I can’t imagine why. I was just thinking I’d never enjoyed a meal more.”

His thick lashes narrowed around those brilliant eyes as he studied her. If he was looking for some hidden meaning in her words, he wasn’t going to find them. “Tara’s going to be counting on you now.”

She folded her hands in her lap. “Your point being?”

“She doesn’t deserve to be let down.”

Even though she’d expected them, his words still disappointed her. And she honestly couldn’t figure out why they should. Aside from his family connection to her brother, what Derek Clay thought about her or didn’t think about her shouldn’t matter one iota.

After all, she couldn’t be a bigger disappointment to anyone than she already was to herself. But she was determined to change that; moving to Weaver had been the first step.

“You’re the one who brought up the idea,” she reminded him.

His lips thinned. “Believe me, cupcake. I’m well aware of my own mistakes.”

She had to wait out the unwanted sting of that. And it didn’t matter what his responsibility in the situation was. She’d been the one to offer her assistance to Tara and she planned to honor her words. “I don’t intend to let her down.”

He leaned a few inches closer. “You heard her. She needs permanent help. Not just someone who’ll play at it for a week or two before getting bored.”

She didn’t back away. “I don’t suppose it even occurs to you that I might need this, too?”

“Need?” His lips twisted. “What could working in a small-town shop get you that you couldn’t buy a hundred times over?”

Her throat tightened and she wished that she’d just let his underwhelming opinion of her pass. “Obviously nothing that you’d ever understand.” To him, she was just a useless “cupcake.”

His eyes narrowed even more, but fortunately he was given no opportunity to respond since his mother announced that they’d all adjourn to the family room while the kids cleared the table. The kids in question, Eli and his sister, Megan, groaned about the task, but as Sydney left the table and was joined by Tara—who tucked her arm through hers as if they were lifelong friends—she noticed that their grumbling didn’t keep them from their assignment.

“So,” Tara was saying, “do you have any kind of retail experience?”

Sydney was glad that Derek had been waylaid by his father in the dining room and wasn’t close enough to hear. “Afraid not. If you want to change your mind, I certainly won’t blame you.”

Tara squeezed her arm. “Please. I didn’t have any retail experience when I started out.” She laughed a little. “If I had, I would have known that a shop like Classic Charms would have an abysmal chance of succeeding in Weaver. Sometimes blissful ignorance is a blessing. What I didn’t know didn’t hurt me.” She looked up at Sydney. “You know, J.D. never mentioned how much you look like Jake. The resemblance is really quite remarkable.”

Even from the emptied dining room, Derek could hear Sydney’s sudden laughter.

The sound of it seemed to slide down his spine, making heat collect at the base.

“What’s going on between you and Jake’s little sister?”

“I’m thirty-two, Dad.” Derek gave his father a mild look. “Wouldn’t worry about it if I were you.”

“I’ll worry when she’s a guest in our home,” Matthew returned just as mildly.

Thirty-two or not, Derek was still Matthew’s son; it was clear from his father’s tone that he meant business. “We might have gotten off to the wrong start,” he reluctantly allowed. “But we got it straight.”

His father lifted a disbelieving brow. “Did you, now.”

Derek grimaced. “Okay. So we’re working on getting it straight.”

Matthew just continued looking at him.

Derek exhaled, irritated. Megan and Eli were carrying the last of the dishes out to the kitchen. “She gets under my skin,” he muttered.

“Is that so?”

Derek didn’t like the sudden glint of amusement in his father’s eyes. “She doesn’t belong here in Weaver.”

“Better be careful, son,” he warned. “I once thought that about your mother.”

Derek snorted. “There’s a big difference between Mom and Sydney.”

“Well,” Matthew considered, “your mother is a beautiful redhead. Still. And Sydney is a beautiful brunette.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“You don’t think Sydney’s beautiful? Had your eyes tested lately?”

“Hell.” Derek tossed his hands up. “Of course she’s beautiful.” She was a gut-wrenching sexy version of grown-up Snow White from the blue-black hair that hugged her ivory face to that leather number that hugged her long-legged, deadly curves. “I know Jake wants his sister to stay in Weaver. But she’s not going to.”

“She tell you that herself?”

“She doesn’t have to. Look at her.”

Matthew smiled outright. “I did, but your mom noticed and then I had the pleasure of her kicking me under the table.”

Derek groaned. “Jesus, Dad.”

“I’m married, not blind.” He closed his hand over Derek’s shoulder and his smile died. “She’s Jake’s sister and that makes her family by extension. Blaming her for getting under your skin is about as useful as blaming a compass for pointing north. And blaming her for something she hasn’t done—and might never do—just because that’s what Renée did, is just as pointless.”

Derek’s shoulders stiffened. “This isn’t about Renée.” He hadn’t mentioned his ex-fiancée’s name in a long while, and didn’t want to now, either.

He still couldn’t think about her and what she’d done without wanting to break something.

His father just looked at him. “Isn’t it?”

“Come on, Sydney! You can do it!”

Sydney stared at the snowbank in front of her.

After dessert, it had been young Megan and Eli who’d volunteered to show her around the Double-C. Sydney had been so relieved that it wasn’t going to be Derek who’d be saddled with the chore, that she’d happily agreed to exchange her boots and dress for some borrowed clothes and snow boots. It was only after she’d done so that she’d realized that Derek was still coming along.

By then, it was too late to back out. Particularly when she suspected that’s exactly what he wanted her to do.

Despite her misgivings, though, Derek had fallen easily enough into the role of tour guide as they’d tromped around. He’d even refrained from any remotely personal comments, sticking to the topic of the cattle ranch that had been in his family for generations.

As for Sydney, she had little breath left over for comments of her own. Not when they were busy keeping up with the boundless energy Derek’s niece and nephew possessed. By the time they’d walked through all of the outbuildings and then all the way out to the nearly frozen swimming hole that had to have been a couple miles away, her chest hurt and the muscles in her thighs were stinging. Despite the hours she spent with her personal trainer, trudging through a few feet of snow for a few hours was a heck of a lot worse than anything that Janine had ever put her through.

But now, if she could ascend the solid-looking snowbank that rose twice as high as her head, it would cut at least a half mile from their trek back.

“You’ll never know if you can make it unless you try. But if you’re afraid, I’ll go back and bring a truck,” Derek said beside her.

She gave him a thin glare. He was the other reason she felt determined to get up that snowbank. “And here I thought you were going to manage not to say something insulting. I am not afraid.”

He lifted his hands innocently, but the devilish curl on his lips was anything but. “It was just an offer.”

“An offer implying I can’t climb up that snowbank,” she muttered.

“You want me to come down and give you a push from behind?” Eli seemed enthusiastic about the prospect as he looked down at her. He and Megan were already standing at the top.

Megan snorted. “I ought to give you a push,” she warned.

Sydney managed not to laugh. Over the past few hours, it had become increasingly obvious to her that Eli found her attractive.

“I think I can manage,” she told him. Derek’s muffled laugh beside her wasn’t so easy to ignore. “You’re not giving me a push, either,” she told him under her breath.

“Didn’t offer, cupcake. But if you want my hands on your butt, say the word. We don’t have to like each other to want each other.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she snapped, but had to stare hard at the sloping snowbank to battle her own imagination. Contemplating the mountain of white was much more comfortable than entertaining any sort of notion involving Derek’s hands.

She pulled in another deep breath, then planted the toe of one borrowed boot into the steep bank. Once she got started, the task was less daunting than she’d feared, but she still had snow clinging to her legs and coat by the time she managed to scramble to the top. Eli and Megan lent their aid, grabbing her beneath the arms to help her up the last foot. Even then, Derek still managed to get to the top before she did.

But her annoyance over that fell away when she straightened and dusted off the sticking snow. She couldn’t help but catch her breath all over again at the postcard-perfect sight.

Megan clearly understood. “It’s pretty, huh?”

“Yes.” White-capped mountains loomed in the distance. Spiky winter-bare trees lined a narrow creek bravely winding free of the pristine snow that glistened like diamonds in the dwindling light. In the distance, she could see downward to the back side of the big house where smoke curled from one of the chimneys and golden light spilled from the windows.

She’d traveled the world but had always thought that Forrest’s Crossing—despite her love-hate relationship with the place—was one of the most beautiful spots on earth.

But this was just as beautiful in an entirely different way.

Forrest’s Crossing was all genteel, Southern charm from its steepled horse barns and white-fenced paddocks to its perfectly manicured grounds.

This looked like nothing but nearly untouched nature.

Nearly, because there were several tall very modern-looking windmills on the crest of the sharp hill where they stood. They weren’t the only modern touch she’d noticed around the ranch, either. Several of the barns and outbuildings they’d toured had obviously been outfitted with solar panels.

“Not exactly the Swiss Alps or wherever you like to while away your winters.”

Sydney eyed Derek. He was standing several yards away, but she’d heard him easily, as if even sound traveled more quickly in this pristine land. “No, it isn’t. But if you can’t see the beauty around you right here, then I feel sorry for you.”

His frown was quick and surprised, but fortunately, whatever he would have said went unspoken when Eli piped up. “It’s nothin’ like where I came from in California, that’s for sure,” the boy said. Instead of standing there to admire the view, though, he started off in the direction of the house.

After a moment, Derek looked away from her and followed his nephew.

It was, mercifully, all downhill from there.

Sydney looked down at Megan, who was hanging back with her. “You and your brother lived in California?” For some reason, she’d assumed they’d been born and raised in Weaver, though she didn’t really know why. Except that they seemed to possess that “we belong here” quality that everyone around here had.

Everyone except for Sydney, of course.

Megan started walking, too, and Sydney fell in step with her. “Eli came from California. I came from Virginia. We’re both adopted, ‘cept Eli was with Dad since he was a baby.”

The dad, Sydney knew, was Max Scalise, the local sheriff. Neither he nor his wife, Sarah, had been at dinner that day, though—according to Megan—they were picking them up later. “And you?”

“They didn’t get me until I was eight after my real parents died.” Her voice was matter-of-fact.

“I’m sorry.”

“I got lucky. Mom and Dad—Sarah and Max, I mean—they’re okay. And then they had Benny, too, and it’s like he’s all of us combined. He’s with Mom and Dad this afternoon.”

“Ben,” Eli called from up ahead. “Benny’s for babies.”

Megan rolled her eyes. “Ben is only four,” she yelled at the back of her brother’s head.

“And do you have any cousins?” Sydney said casually, watching Derek’s back several yards ahead of them. Unlike Eli, Megan and Sydney, his head and hands were bare, though he showed enough human frailty to keep his hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“You mean from Uncle Derek?” Megan shook her head. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He doesn’t even got a girlfriend,” she confided. “Grandma says it’s ‘cause he’s still pining for Renée.” Her whisper dripped over the name. “They were supposed to get married, but they didn’t.” Without missing a step, she leaned over and grabbed up a handful of snow, packed it together in a ball, and launched it at her brother’s back.

It exploded in a splatter and Eli whirled around, scooping up his own ammunition.

Sydney had to swallow her unwelcome curiosity where Derek and his broken engagement were concerned, and dart out of the way or end up in firing range of the missiles the two youngsters chased each other, whooping and hollering, toward the big house. Even then, she wasn’t entirely successful.

And since she couldn’t avoid them, she decided to join them, throwing her own inexpertly made snowballs right back. Unfortunately, her aim was off, and she hit Derek, smack in the side of the head.

Her laughter cut off midstream as he slowly turned to look her way.

“Sorry,” she said breathlessly. “I was aiming for Eli.”

He cocked an eyebrow, giving an exaggerated look to where his nephew was bent nearly in half, laughing wildly. “Is that so?” There was at least ten feet between him and the boy.

Megan dashed over beside Sydney. “Here.” She handed one snowball to Sydney. She had another already clasped in her mitten. “We can take him,” she said, dancing from one boot to the other in anticipation. “Uncle Derek says he always wins, but not this time.”

Derek chuckled outright. “Meggie, babe, you’d better teach your firing mate to have better aim, then. And warn her that I never like to lose.”

“If you’re six feet off,” Megan said from the side of her mouth, “just aim six feet over.”

It wasn’t the worst advice Sydney had ever had and before Derek stopped chuckling, she launched the well-packed snowball.

It missed his head only because he ducked at the last minute to avoid it.

But Megan’s snowball hit him square in the chest and Sydney couldn’t help but laugh.