Читать книгу The New Baby - Brenda Mott - Страница 11

TELLING HERSELF SHE WAS being ridiculous, thinking way too far ahead, Amanda walked calmly toward Ian. After all, she didn’t even know him. And while she was pretty sure he’d looked at her the other day as though he liked what he saw, that hardly meant he was going to jump up and propose. She knew it was her past experience, coupled with the accident, that made her overly cautious. She and Mark hadn’t made certain things clear right up-front when they’d begun dating. Things like the fact that she had wanted children and he didn’t. They’d argued heatedly over the matter. Her decision to act as surrogate for Nikki had been the final blow to their already shaky relationship.

Mark had been long gone from her life when the accident happened. But the entire set of circumstances had driven the point firmly home for Amanda. Never again would she go into a relationship with blinders on.

“Hi, there.” Amanda halted.

Ian rose from the fallen log. “Hey, Amanda. It’s nice to see you again.”

She pursed her lips and gave the group of scouts a pointed glance. “I didn’t know I had company.” She knew it wasn’t realistic to think she could hide from children and babies forever, and as Ian smiled at her, her initial irritation slowly began to melt.

“We knocked,” he said, as though that explained everything and excused his act of trespassing. “I didn’t think you were home.”

She started to explain that she’d been wearing headphones and hadn’t heard him, then decided she’d rather not have Ian Bonner picturing her in the bathtub. “You must have a different set of rules here in the South.” Amanda folded her arms and gestured with one hand. “Out west trespassing is against the law, and finding the owner not at home doesn’t give free license to come on in. We call that burglary.” She fought a losing battle with her annoyance. Who could stay mad at a guy with such a soft, sexy voice?

Ian saw right through her. His lips curved. “You’re absolutely right. But here in Tennessee, if it’s among neighbors, we call it borrowin’.” He grimaced. “I didn’t know Troy went inside your house until after the fact. We’ve got our canteens and some bottled water, but he always gets a kick out of using the kitchen pump.”

Amanda softened. “Well, maybe I’m giving you a hard time.” She nodded toward the group of kids. “Troy told me Granny let the boys camp here frequently.”

“She did.” Ian nodded, but he still looked properly chastised. “And I was given the impression your mom okayed it as well. Something about it being in your granny’s will? But with you staying here, I guess it was mighty rude of me to assume everything was settled. I apologize.”

Leave it to her mother to fail to give her the finer details of Granny’s will. Bridget had barely hung around long enough to attend the funeral before heading out once more to her latest “hometown.”

“It’s all right,” Amanda said.

“I do have a defense, however, even if it is a weak one.” Ian’s dark eyes lightened with amusement.

“Oh?”

“I’m only a part-time scoutmaster. The regular guy had to stay home at the last minute with his sick wife and kids. Spring flu’s going around.”

“Then you better get your flu shot,” Amanda said in her best nurse’s voice.

He laughed, and the sound relaxed her. He was easy to talk to, like someone you’d known a long time. She supposed there was nothing wrong with making friends in Boone’s Crossing.

“You don’t mind if we stay then?”

“No.” She told herself she could handle having the boys around, but probably not often and not for long. “But I’d appreciate more notice next time.”

He studied her. “Really, if it’s a problem, we can make this our last outing here.”

Suddenly, Amanda felt like the bad guy. “It’s just that I came out here—to Granny’s place—for some privacy and a little quiet time.”

“A vacation?”

She shook her head. “You might say I’m working through some personal issues.”

“Oh.” His tone told her he was curious, but not nosy enough to push. “So, I take it this is the first time you’ve been here in quite a while?”

“That’s right.” Regret filled her all over again that she hadn’t come to Tennessee to spend time with Granny more often. Why was it that only hindsight was twenty-twenty? “I was just a kid the last time I stayed in Boone’s Crossing. Well, other than when I came here for Granny’s funeral.”

“Ah—then you probably have no idea what you’ve been missing out on.” Ian sat down once more on the fallen log, scooting over to make room for her.

“What’s that?” Amanda asked as she sat beside him.

“BJ’s Barbecue. Established in 1995. It’s the best this side of the Mississippi.” He shifted his weight in such a way that his shirtsleeve touched her bare skin.

Amanda resisted the urge to move—whether closer to him or farther away, she wasn’t sure. “Really? I guess I’ll have to try it sometime.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized how her comment sounded. Like she was fishing for him to ask her out. On the other hand, he could’ve been doing the same, bringing up the subject in the first place. Feeling jittery once more, Amanda subtly shifted farther away from him. “Although I’m not sure when I might have time,” she amended.

“Busy schedule?” he asked. His dark eyes held a look of disappointment.

Or was that only wishful thinking on her part? Like it or not, she was deeply attracted to Ian. “Most of the time, yes. I rarely take two days off in a row. But I don’t mind. My residents mean a lot to me.”

“That’s nice,” Ian said, his tone softening. “I know Papaw sure thinks the world of you.”

Amanda smiled. “Ditto. I know it’s not right to play favorites, but Zeb holds a special place in my heart. I feel like I’ve known him a long time, even though I don’t remember him as a child.”

“He has that effect on just about everyone he meets.” Ian laced his fingers together and let his hands dangle between his knees, elbows propped on his thighs. “I sure miss having him at the house.”

“I didn’t realize he’d lived with you.” Amanda tried to hide the surprise in her voice. Most people would go to whatever lengths it took to avoid taking care of an elderly relative.

Ian nodded. “Yep. Right up until his mule bucked him off.”

“Is that really how he broke his hip? I thought he was teasing me.”

“No, he wasn’t kidding.” He looked straight at her, and she found it hard to pull her gaze away from his eyes. “Papaw’s always fancied himself a cowboy. I’ve tried to tell him Roy Rogers never rode a mule.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “No, but Festus did. On Gunsmoke.”

“Yeah, that’s right, he did.” Ian watched the scouts, checking their progress of making camp. He was silent for a full minute.

Amanda knew she ought to leave. She started to rise, words of farewell on the tip of her tongue.

“Would you like to go to BJ’s with me?” Ian cocked his head, studying her intently.

She froze in place and swallowed. “I don’t know, Ian. I—”

“Hey!” One of the boys, a redhead wearing round, wire-rimmed glasses, shouted as he raced toward them. Troy Stoakes ran with him.

They halted near the log, exchanged gleeful looks, then stared at Ian. “I thought you said there’d be no girl kissing on this camping trip.” Troy’s freckled nose wrinkled as he pursed his lips and grinned. “But you’re sitting mighty close to her.” He spoke in a singsong voice, waggling his forefinger at Amanda.

His buddy snickered. “Guess she’s more fun than catchin’ frogs.” His face flushed as bright as his hair. He glanced at Amanda, then raced away, howling with laughter.

“And she looks pretty good in a pink bathrobe,” Troy said, backing out of reach as Ian made a playful grab for him. He spun on his heel and took off after his friend, hooting and whooping.

“I’ll get you both,” Ian called, cupping his hands to his mouth. “Just wait until you’re asleep tonight.” He chuckled, lowering his hands to his knees. “God, I love kids.”

Speechless, Amanda could only look at him.

He grinned, his dimples doing damage to her heart. “O-kay,” he said, drawing the word out in two syllables. “I guess those boys are better at mind reading than they are at reading trail signs.”

Amanda’s face heated. “And here I thought only girls were that silly.”

Ian rose from the log, offering her a hand. She took it, and let him help her to her feet. Again, she noted the work-rough texture of his palm and longing and regret filled her. Black memories swirled through her mind, threatening to darken the warm, sunny day and blot out the happy voices of the children in the nearby clearing. The familiar rush of adrenaline-driven anxiety filled her. She took a deep breath, focusing on a relaxation technique her therapist had taught her, and managed to shake off her panic.

“Thanks,” she said, then realized she’d never finished answering Ian’s question. “About BJ’s—please don’t take it personally, but I’m going to have to say no.”

He held up one hand. “Hey, don’t worry about it.” He studied her a moment, then gave her a good-natured smile that made it all the harder to walk away.

Awkward silence stretched between them. “I’m home for the rest of the day,” Amanda said, gesturing toward the house. “If anyone gets a skinned knee or a bug bite or whatever, feel free to holler.”

“A nurse on call right next to our campsite.” Ian nodded, and his dimples appeared once more. “Beats the heck out of my first-aid kit.”

“See you.” Amanda lifted her hand in a wave, taking a step backward.

“Sure.” He waved, too. “Enjoy your day off. I’ll try to keep these hooligans at a dull roar.”

She watched him walk away. He looked back only once, and it was almost enough to make her wish she’d said yes to his invitation.

Why? she asked herself as she headed toward the log house. Why would you want to open yourself up to more pain?

She had no answer. But then, that was why she’d moved to Tennessee. To sort things out slowly and give herself space until she finally discovered a long-term plan for living the rest of her life. At the moment, she had no idea where she was headed. The only thing she knew for sure was that right now there was no room in her journey for good-looking men with dark eyes, or silly fantasies about what might have been.

Maybe there never would be.

IAN COULDN’T BELIEVE he’d actually worked up the nerve to ask Amanda out. Sure, it was only for a barbecue sandwich, but he’d blown it at that. He was far more out of practice at this dating business than he’d thought possible. Papaw would give him hell if he found out.

Ian lay in his sleeping bag, hands laced behind his neck as he looked up at the stars. Nearby, he’d pitched a tent in case of rain. Actually, he’d probably crawl inside before too long and zip himself in to avoid the insects and the possibility of snakes paying him a visit. But he liked watching the night sky and the lightning bugs. Around him, the boys were settled in their own tents, mostly quiet. A few smothered chortles came here and there, but as long as they kept it down, he’d let them have their fun. After all, that’s what being a kid and camping out with your buddies was all about.

Fun seemed to be a word that had slid further and further from his vocabulary as of late. Ian peered through the trees at the log cabin. He could see it pretty clearly in the light of the full moon. All of the windows appeared dark. But of course, he couldn’t see those on the other side. He’d only been in the house a couple of times when Olivia Satterfield was alive, and he didn’t really remember the layout. But it stood to reason the bedrooms were likely toward the back, which meant either Amanda was asleep, or she was in the living room in the front area of the house, out of his line of sight.

They’d parted rather awkwardly tonight. He hoped he hadn’t made her too uncomfortable by asking her out on a date. Maybe she had a boyfriend back in Colorado, or even a husband for all he knew. She’d said she had come here to work through some personal issues. People separated all the time, trying to get their heads on straight and make things right. He hoped that wasn’t the case with Amanda, because he wasn’t ready to give up on her yet.

He liked her. It was easy to see she was warm and had a sense of humor, and she seemed to like kids, even though something was a little off in that area. No matter what she’d said, he could tell she wasn’t overly thrilled with having the Cubs camped out here in her woods. She’d simply been too nice to say no. He’d overlooked the fact because he didn’t have the heart to disappoint his troop. But he wondered what lay behind her hesitancy. He was pretty sure it wasn’t just a matter of privacy.

With a sigh, Ian slid from his sleeping bag, still clad in his jeans and shirt. He never completely undressed when camping with the kids. There was always the chance of an emergency, and he didn’t like the thought of being caught in his boxers, barefooted. He’d left his socks on, and now turned his hiking boots upside down and tapped them against a rock to make sure no crawly creatures had decided to take up residence inside them. Feeling the need for a short walk, he slipped the boots on and laced them up, then headed down the path toward Amanda’s.

For whatever reason, he felt compelled to take another look at the house where she lay sleeping. To think about her awhile longer, and see if he couldn’t come up with a way to get to know her better, other than hanging around Papaw at the nursing home.

The sound of crying reached him as he neared the yard. Pausing, he listened and heard nothing. His ears must be playing tricks on him. But there it was again. Quiet sobs, coming from the creek bank. Ian hesitated, wondering if he should leave well enough alone, turn around, head back to camp, and mind his own business. But he couldn’t. It always pained him to hear a woman cry.

Though he could hear Amanda, he could not see her. The clouds had blown across the sky, covering the moon. But as he took a step, they shifted once more on the high breeze, and he spotted her sitting on the bank of the stream. Her back was to him, and her blond hair cascaded nearly to her waist. It was the first time he’d seen it down, rather than in a bun or ponytail. Legs pulled up to her chin, arms wrapped around her knees, Amanda had her head down, crying as if her heart had been shattered.

Torn once more between leaving her to her privacy and the urge to soothe her, Ian walked quietly up behind her. “It can’t be all that bad.”

Amanda swung around and let out a yelp. She clambered to her feet, which were bare, and swiped at her cheeks with both hands. “My God, you scared the life out of me.” Emotions in control, she stood staring at him, her expression caught between anger and embarrassment. She reminded him of an overgrown kid, in the faded jeans and pale yellow blouse she’d had on earlier, her feet and arms creamy white as though they hadn’t seen much sun lately.

“Sorry,” Ian said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What are you doing?” A look of concern laced with suspicion flashed in her eyes. Her gaze darted toward the house as though measuring the distance.

Surely she didn’t think he was going to pounce on her like some sex-starved maniac?

The sex-starved maniac that he actually was. He held his hands up in surrender. “Don’t shoot, I’m unarmed.”

She only looked at him. “I thought we’d said our goodbyes earlier.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her expression changing. “It’s not one of the boys, is it? Is someone sick or hurt?”

“No.” Ian shook his head. “Everyone’s fine. I couldn’t sleep, and I heard you crying. I thought I’d make sure you were all right.” He studied her. “You are, aren’t you?”

She sniffed and tucked her hair behind one ear. “I’m okay.” She shrugged. “Just a little homesick, I guess.” But her eyes betrayed her, telling him there was more to it than that. She looked at him like she wanted—needed—someone to talk to.

He nodded. “Yeah, Papaw said you’d come out here all the way from Colorado.”

“I did.”

“Mind if I ask what brought you here?”

“My car,” she said dryly, then winced. “Sorry.” Her smile was wooden. “Just a little humor to lighten the moment. I apologize for treating you like an intruder.”

“No problem.” He lifted a shoulder. “I guess in a way, I have been, what with me and the boys barging in on you.”

“Well, I suppose that hardly makes you Jack the Ripper.”

“Not even close.” He smiled, wishing he could get her to relax and laugh again. He’d liked the way she joked around with Papaw, and he wondered if she realized how different she was outside the walls of Shade Tree Manor.

Realizing there was such difference made him all the more curious. “So, since we’re both wide awake, want to talk a little bit? It’s always nice getting to know your neighbors.”

Again, a look passed over her face as though she did want to talk, yet was still hesitant. With seeming reluctance, she nodded. “Okay.” Then as though unwilling to be rude, added, “Would you like something to drink? A Coke? I could bring it out on the porch so you don’t have to leave the boys.” She glanced in the direction of the trees. “Or is the porch even too far away?”

“No,” he said. “They’re fine. We’ve got the tents set up in the clearing. Right where you and I were talking earlier.”

“Okay, then.” She turned and walked across the thick grass, sidestepping the lawn ornament he’d made for Olivia Satterfield a long time ago.

He’d nearly forgotten about it. Composed of welded scrap iron, the whimsical billy goat with flowing beard had its head down in a perpetual grazing position.

“Tacky thing, isn’t it?” Amanda said. “I guess I ought to have it removed along with the others.” She waved her hand at an assortment of ceramic statues. “It would make things easier for the boy who mows my lawn.”

Ian hid a grin. “It might at that.” He looked around. The grass wasn’t knee-deep anymore, the way it had been after Olivia’s passing, but it was still a few inches tall. He knew that Rachel Fultz had kept an eye on the house for the past couple of years, but apparently her neighborly duties hadn’t included caring for the yard.

“I can’t believe how fast the grass grows out here,” Amanda went on, climbing the porch steps. “I had it mowed less than a week ago.”

“It’s the humidity,” he said. He paused at the bottom of the steps. “I’ll wait here. Just in case.” He motioned toward the woods and his scout troop.

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” She hurried inside and returned with two cans of Coke. She handed one to him, then sat on the edge of the porch rail. Her body posture seemed tense, and somehow vulnerable, as though she wanted to trust him but still wasn’t completely sure she could. Something about Amanda compelled him to reach out to her.

He settled on the steps, where he could keep an eye out for his boys. A protective feeling rose inside of him, the way it often did, with sudden gusto. He never saw it coming. It was simply there. One minute he’d be minding his own business, walking along with the Cumberland Cubs, or maybe passing by a group of kids at the little mall in the next town. And there it would be. The need to watch over and protect. The way a father would.

How many kids ran around out there in the world, unsupervised, with nobody to care for them? The thought made him furious, and he prayed on a regular basis that his own son had gotten better than that in the way of parents.

“Ian?” Amanda spoke his name as if she’d repeated it.

“Sorry.” He took a sip of his pop. “Just woolgathering. Guess I’m more tired than I’d thought.”

“We don’t have to do this,” she said. Her features closed over once more, as though she were blocking out her emotions, ready to backpedal on spending social time with him. “I mean if you’d rather take the Coke with you…”

“No.” He shook his head, not willing to let her pull away so quickly, just when he was getting to know her a little better. “I like talking to you. It’s nice to have someone around that’s above the age of ten and only has two legs.”

“Excuse me?”

“My dog.” He pursed his lips, teasing Amanda, enjoying it. “She’s over the age of ten, in dog years anyway. But friends of the four-legged variety don’t say much.”

Amanda laughed softly, the sound dropping over him like a rush of warm air. “What kind of dog is she?”

“Rottweiler.”

“A Rottie? Oo-oh.” She shivered.

“No, she’s not mean.” Ian twirled the Coke can. “As a matter of fact, she’s a big old baby. Three years old and a hundred and five pounds. And all she wants is to have anyone and everyone rub her belly.”

“Now that’s my kind of dog. Granny used to have a bloodhound that was the same way.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “She might not talk, but she’s a good listener. Guess it’s true what they say about dogs being man’s best friend. Or woman’s.” He raised his can in a toast to Amanda, then took a swallow.

“Animals are good for telling your secrets to.” She gazed into the distance, her eyes not focused on anything in particular. “There’s a little gray squirrel that comes up here on the porch sometimes. I call him Skippy. He loves croutons, and I feed him and talk to him.”

Ian sobered, his humor fading as he watched her. The wistful expression in her eyes moved him. It was similar to what he’d seen reflected in his own mirror, and instantly he thought about what had happened the other day at the nursing home, and how it had made him feel. Like he could relate to Amanda in some way.

“It’s nice of you to let the boys stay here.”

“Like I said, I don’t mind once in a while.”

He hesitated, still studying her, and told himself to tread with care. He didn’t want to scare her away or seem overly pushy. “Do you like kids?”

“Sure.” Her answer came out a little too quickly. “Why do you ask? Am I being too mean in not inviting your scout troop over more often?”

“No, not at all. I just…” He let the words trail away. Maybe he was getting too personal. Scratch the “maybe.” He was being nosy and he mentally chastised himself for behaving rudely. It wasn’t like him, which only showed him that Amanda had him rattled. “Forget it. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No—what were you going to say?” Amanda persisted. “What did you notice?”

He focused on the look in her eyes. Her expression had shifted, changed, enough for him to see that whether Amanda realized it or not, she was reaching out to him. His curiosity overcame what was left of his hesitation. He lifted a shoulder. “The other day at the nursing home—when you saw the baby that young couple brought in.” He halted, at a loss for words. He was making a mess out of this, when all he’d meant to do was reach out to her. “Is there something about kids that bothers you?” he asked.

Amanda’s face paled in the moonlight. “You’re very observant,” she said quietly. “I’m surprised you noticed my reaction.”

Immediately, he felt like an oaf. “Forgive me. It was rude of me to bring it up. I didn’t ask you to be nosy, it’s just that—”

She cut him off. “Speaking of children, maybe you’d better go check on your scouts.”

He grimaced, then panicked as Amanda’s lower lashes suddenly glistened with unshed tears. She held them back, her jaw set, her body tense. Lord, he’d made her cry.

His decision was instant, one he wouldn’t later be able to explain.

“Amanda, the reason I asked was because I thought we might have something in common.” He hurried on before she could interrupt. “Something that hurts so deeply it cuts like a knife.” He clenched his fist and brought it up against his heart. “Right here.”

She said nothing, but the expression on her face softened.

“They say it’s sometimes easier to talk to a stranger about your troubles than a friend,” he went on. He took a deep breath and went for broke, knowing this wasn’t just about her anymore. He needed someone to talk to. Someone who might truly understand. “I have a son out there, Amanda. Not in the woods. Not in my scout troop.”

She stared at him, her mouth partially open as if she thought he was crazy.

He probably was. “I have a son,” he repeated, “who I gave up a long time ago. A boy I can’t get off my mind, no matter how much time passes. And I can tell you right now that hiding doesn’t help. And sometimes talking to your family doesn’t either, because they’re too close to the matter. But talking to someone sure beats the hell out of the alternative.” He stood. “I am rightly sorry for intruding on your privacy. I’ll have the kids packed up and out of here first thing in the morning.” Coke in hand, he turned to go.

“Ian.” She spoke his name quietly, but her voice snagged him as if she’d shouted. “What’s the alternative?”

He kept his back to her, briefly squeezing his eyes shut. “Getting lost in your own sorrow. Drinking.” He turned to face her once more. “Working sixteen-hour days. There’s a dozen different poisons.” He shrugged. “You can name your own. I’ve tried most of them.” He held her gaze. “I hate seeing people in pain. And I think something’s eating you up, Amanda. Something that brought you clear out here from Colorado. Don’t forget there are folks to talk to if you need them.” Again, he started to leave.

“Ian.”

He halted. Held his breath. “Yeah?”

“I love barbecue.”

He looked at her, certain his ears were playing tricks on him. “You do?”

“Yes. It’s my favorite.”

He nodded. “Good. Pick you up at five-thirty, tomorrow evening?”

“I work until four. Better make it six.”

“Six it is.”

He headed for the woods, no longer worried about snakes. The one that had kept a choke hold on his emotions had uncoiled about three lengths.

He glanced back over his shoulder, but Amanda was gone.