Читать книгу The New Baby - Brenda Mott - Страница 12

BJ’S BARBECUE STOOD surrounded by a thicket of trees in the west end of Boone’s Crossing. From a smokestack in the roof of the rustic building housing the restaurant, wispy gray tendrils feathered upward, carrying with them enticing aromas of hickory and barbecued meat. Amanda inhaled as she accepted Ian’s outstretched hand and climbed down from his four-wheel drive pickup. She closed her eyes in pure bliss. “Mm-mmm. If the food tastes half as good as it smells, I’m already sold.”

“You won’t be disappointed,” he said.

She looked at him and smiled in an effort to calm her nerves. She’d come close to calling Ian’s welding shop and telling him she’d changed her mind about going out with him. But then she’d remembered the way his eyes had looked when he’d told her about the son he’d given up, and she’d put the phone down. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was nice to have someone to reach out to. Someone to talk to who wasn’t personally involved. She hadn’t had a date in over a year, and told herself to quit being silly. Tonight’s outing was all in friendship.

So why had she taken such care with her appearance, going through one outfit after another in rapid succession, until she’d finally decided on black jeans and her favorite peach blouse? She’d curled her hair and put on some makeup. With her feet in a pair of sandals, toenails painted a tame coral, she’d felt comfortable—until Ian had pulled up in her driveway. Instantly, her stomach had been seized by a case of the jitters that had calmed only marginally on the drive to BJ’s.

Dressed in blue jeans, a maroon western shirt and cowboy boots, Ian looked twice as yummy and tempting as anything she expected to find on the menu. He had on a black ball cap, but he’d taken it off earlier to swat a wasp that had found its way inside the truck. Amanda couldn’t shake the picture from her mind of his light-brown hair that waved slightly and made her want to touch. The combined scents of herbal shampoo and a cologne that reminded her of outdoors and new leather had left her hormones in an uproar.

Ignoring the way her pulse jumped at his touch, she held Ian’s hand just long enough to move away from the truck. She walked with him through the crowded parking lot toward the log building. Her shoes crunched against cedar chips, strewn between the asphalt and sidewalk. Rocking chairs lined the wraparound porch, several occupied by people waiting for a table or enjoying a chat with friends after their meal. Hanging baskets held pansies and petunias in shades of pink, white, red and yellow, and a lifelike mannequin near the entrance clad in bib overalls, a flannel shirt and straw hat gripped a chalkboard menu in its hands, advertising the special. All you care to eat barbecue ribs—$7.99, Amanda silently read.

Her mouth watered all over again, until she focused once more on Ian as he held the door open for her. No way was she going to order something that would leave her with sauce on her face, hands, and likely down the front of her blouse as well.

The inside of the restaurant proved to be as charming as the outside, with tables covered in bright gingham cloth, antique lanterns hanging from the ceiling and rough-hewn log walls. The place was packed, and several people waved or spoke to Ian. After giving his name to the hostess, he led Amanda back out to the porch, where they waited in the rockers until the hostess greeted them and showed them to a table in a corner of the nonsmoking section. She took their order for soft drinks and left menus.

Amanda spotted an offer of barbecued pork on a bun, served with coleslaw and curly fries. “I think I’ll have number three,” she said, tapping the menu with one finger.

Ian gave her a mock frown. “Are you sure? That’s not much of a supper.”

“It’s fine.” Again, she pictured herself with sticky fingers and messy chin.

“Well, I’m not shy,” he said, in tune with her thoughts. “I’m having ribs.”

The waitress returned with their drinks, and Amanda ordered the barbecue sandwich, then sipped her cherry cola. Ian ordered the ribs in a soft drawl that left goose bumps tickling her arms. She could listen to his voice all night and never grow tired of it. Starting guiltily out of her daydream, she realized he’d spoken to her.

“Someone’s trying to get your attention,” he said, indicating with a nod directed behind her and to her left.

Amanda turned to look, then smiled and waved at the towheaded boy who sat at a nearby table. “That’s Delbert Brock. His cousin, Gavin, mows my lawn. Delbert came with him last time and took a liking to that little squirrel I told you about. He got the biggest kick out of feeding him peanuts.” Not until the words were out of her mouth did she realize exactly what they implied. She’d enjoyed having the boys around, unconsciously mothering them with cold drinks and extra sunscreen, and had to admit that their presence wasn’t all that different than having Ian’s scouts in her woods.

Kids were kids, and she loved them every bit as much as Ian did. But the thought of having some of her own left her cold with fear. Maybe it was easier to deal with Delbert and Gavin than it was Ian’s scouts, because they were closer to being grown. Gavin was old enough to drive, hauling his mower and yard tools around in a truck, and Delbert looked about fourteen or fifteen.

Two young men, past the point of needing to be coddled.

Amanda gave Ian a half smile. “Guess your scout troop might like to meet Skippy next time, too, huh?”

He looked at her intently. “We don’t want to wear out our welcome. It’s okay to value your privacy, Amanda.” Briefly, he reached out and folded his hand over hers where it rested on the table.

The gesture was enough to send her heart racing, and she was glad when the waitress brought their order, giving her something to do with her own hands besides squeeze Ian’s in return. She got a kick out of watching him savor his food. He put away his share of the pork ribs and still somehow managed to eat them without making a mess, neatly wiping his fingers on the napkin in his lap.

“Your legs must be hollow,” Amanda teased. “I think I’ve gained five pounds just watching you eat.”

To her amusement, his face flushed beneath his tan and he swiped the napkin across his mouth before answering. “I told you the food here was something you don’t want to miss out on. It’s enough to make me forget my manners and make a pig of myself—no pun intended.”

Amanda laughed and began to relax. “It’s beyond good,” she agreed, polishing off the last of her curly fries. “I’m going to have to walk home to wear off the calories.” The barbecue sandwich she’d eaten had been twice as big as she’d expected, served on a bun so large there was no way to hold it and still maintain good table manners. She’d ended up eating it with her fork.

“I still agree with Papaw,” Ian said, his lips curving enough to make the dimples appear in his cheeks. “You don’t have to worry about calories, but if you’d like to take a walk after we eat, I know a good place to go.”

“All right, you’re on.” What could a walk hurt? She wasn’t so much worried about getting a workout as she was about finding a way to make this date end on a casual note, and exercise might be just the ticket.

A short time later, Ian drove them back toward town, turning down a side street near the nursing home. The road dead-ended and a park stretched out before them, playground equipment still visible in the fading evening light. The place was empty, save for a couple with three children at the pond feeding the ducks, and two kids on the slide. A stray dog nosed its way around the trash container near a picnic table, then trotted off on some unknown mission.

“This is nice,” Amanda said, watching the family with wistful envy. She tore her gaze away from them with effort. “I’ve been here a few times on my lunch break.”

“The place is usually packed around lunchtime after Sunday church services,” Ian said. “Lots of folks picnic here. It’s also popular with the teenagers for parking on Saturday nights.”

His dark eyes held her gaze long enough for Amanda’s thoughts to travel down a path best left unexplored. Briefly, she wondered if he’d brought her here hoping to indulge in a bit of what the high-school kids came for, but before she could dwell on the thought, Ian opened the truck door and climbed out.

She started to exit the pickup as well, but he hurried around to help her down as he had previously. “Come on. I’ve got something to show you.”

“Oh?” Curiosity played with her emotions as Amanda chastised herself for her silly suspicions. If the man wanted to take advantage of her, he’d had plenty of opportunity the other night in the dark cover of the woods surrounding Granny’s cabin.

They walked toward the center of the park, stopping halfway between the picnic tables and playground equipment. A gazebo Amanda had admired on her last trip here stood, still under construction, encircled by bright orange mesh fencing.

“My cousin and I built this,” Ian said.

“Really?” She looked at him, surprised. “I thought you were a welder.”

“I am. But I’m sort of a jack-of-all-trades. We should have the gazebo finished by this coming weekend.”

“Just in time for ‘Good Neighbor Days.’” Her coworkers had been talking about the upcoming annual pre-summer celebration and town picnic, held the first Saturday of June.

“That’s right.” Ian nodded. “Are you going to come?”

Amanda hesitated. Too much of a good thing—in this case, being around Ian—might prove not to be such a good thing after all. And besides, she’d come to Boone’s Crossing to hide, to heal, not to socialize. “I don’t know.” She avoided his gaze. “I’ll have to see what’s going on.”

“Well, I hope you can make it. I plan to bring Papaw, but I’ll probably have to wheel him over in his chair. My pickup sits too high off the ground for him to get in with his hip and all.”

“I’m sure Zeb will enjoy the outing.” She looked at the gazebo once more, with its intricate woodwork. “You and your cousin did a good job. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks. I’ll tell her you said so.”

“Her?” Amanda raised her eyebrows.

“Yep. Samantha Jo was always handy with a hammer and nails.” He grinned. “She raises a few eyebrows around here with the good ol’ boys.”

Amanda laughed. “I’m impressed. Your family seems to be multitalented. Zeb told me he used to run your welding shop with you.”

“More like the other way around. He and Dad had the shop when I was a kid. Papaw taught me everything I know when it comes to building or fixing things.” He gestured toward the playground equipment. “I built those monkey bars for the kids to climb on. Welded each piece together to make it extra strong. Safe. And I did the ladder for the slide, and the frame and all for the swing set.”

“Wow.” She’d had no idea he was so skilled, and had somehow pictured him welding something of a more generic, shop-related nature. “Are those wooden seats?”

“Yeah. Come on, I’ll show you.”

She followed him to the swing set and stopped in front of it. The frame was made of heavy steel piping, but the swings themselves were indeed old-fashioned-looking wood, suspended from chains. Amanda ran her hand over the surface of one of the brightly painted red-and-blue seats. “It’s so smooth.”

“No splinters that way,” he said. “And the chains are small enough to hold, but big enough not to pinch any little fingers.”

“The nurse in me gives you an A-plus for safety,” she said, with a thumbs-up gesture.

He laughed. “Sounds more like a teacher.”

Sudden melancholy gripped her. “My sister teaches kindergarten,” she said. “Back in Colorado.”

“Yeah?” He nodded approval. “Seems like you’ve got a well-rounded family. Any other siblings?”

“Nope. Just me and Nikki. And you?”

“I’m an only child. Mom’s gone—we lost her to breast cancer some years back—and Dad lives in Virginia.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your mom,” Amanda said. She focused on some distant point beyond the playground equipment. “Unfortunately, death doesn’t discriminate.”

“No, it doesn’t. What about your folks? Do they live in Colorado?”

She faced him once more, curling her fingers around the chain on one of the swings. “My parents divorced when Nikki and I were too young to remember. I have no idea where my father is. Mom lived in Colorado for a while, when Nik and I were in high school, then she took off again.”

“Again?”

“Yeah.” She quirked her mouth. “She never stays in one place long. That’s why Nikki and I spent our summers with Granny. She was our roots, the one home we knew would always be there. Mom drove us nuts growing up, always making us change schools. We’d barely make friends at one, then move on to another. So we made her promise to stay in one place while we finished high school, and that turned out to be Colorado. But as soon as we were both in college, she took off for Texas, and from there she went to Oklahoma and finally recently ended up in Montana.”

“Wow. I’ve never been out of state, unless you count driving across the line into Kentucky or Virginia.” He paused. “What made your mother want to move around so much, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Amanda sighed and sank absentmindedly onto the swing. Gripping the chains in both hands, she pushed it with her foot enough to make it sway. “Mom’s a dreamer. One time she moved us to Nashville, hoping to become a country star.”

“No foolin’?”

She nodded. “Another time she decided to become a pilot. It only took one flying lesson before she realized that wasn’t her cup of tea. She was always struggling to take care of us and see that we had everything we needed. Nikki and I did what we could to help out with after-school jobs. But each time Mom seemed to think things would be better in the next town, at the next job, and that her dream career was somewhere just out of her reach. Guess you can’t fault her for trying.”

“Nope.” Ian’s face took on a faraway expression. “It must’ve been rough for her, going it alone without your dad.”

“It was.” She wondered if he was thinking about his own son, and if he’d given the child up to make sure the boy had all he would need. How old had Ian been when he’d become a father? Probably not old enough to handle the responsibility. A sudden measure of irritation welled up inside her. “I can’t fathom how some people can walk away from their children while others would give anything to have a baby of their own.”

He turned his head sharply to look straight at her, and immediately she realized how her comment sounded. She’d been thinking of Nikki, and how much she’d wanted to be a mother. And of the many times they’d discussed heartbreaking stories heard on the news, in which some frightened teenager abandoned her baby in a Dumpster.

“Some folks don’t walk away,” Ian said, his tone thick with pain. “There are people who give up their child because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Oh, Ian, I didn’t mean you.” Amanda felt the color flood then drain from her face. “Really, I didn’t.” She swallowed, not wanting to get into an explanation behind her comment—one that would lead to personal issues. She had no desire to talk about the baby she’d lost. The pain was still sharp and fresh, eating her up inside.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Sorry if I sounded short. I know you were talking about your dad.”

“Yes.” Amanda nodded, letting him draw the wrong conclusion.

He was silent a moment. “Hey, how about I push you?” With obvious effort, he’d lightened his tone.

“Push me?”

“Yeah.” He took hold of the chains, above where she gripped them. “When was the last time you played on a swing?”

She laughed in spite of herself. “I don’t know. Longer ago than I care to think about.”

“Well, then you’re overdue for some fun.”

Before Amanda could protest, he pulled the swing backward, lifting her feet off the ground. Her stomach gave a sharp jump at the sudden motion, and she tightened her hands on the chains, letting out a little yelp. Her hair lifted away from her face as Ian let go, giving her a push, sending her forward. She chuckled, feeling silly, and tucked her feet out of the way so they wouldn’t drag. At five-five, she wasn’t exactly tall, but she was still too big for the child-sized swing. Too big, but apparently not too old.

Joyful anticipation rose within her as the swing arced backward once more, and Ian’s hands came firmly into contact with her back, sending her skyward. Higher and higher he pushed the swing, and Amanda clung to the chains, letting the silliness enfold her, leaning back to let her hair fly wildly away from her shoulders as he sent her sailing into the air over and over again. She shrieked with laughter when the swing hit a point so high it bounced on the chains, and Ian gripped her waist as she came back down, his hands steady.

But she’d been ready to thrust forward again, and the momentum of the swing, coupled with his holding on to her, sent her sliding backward instead.

“Whoa!” Ian slipped his arms around her, lost his balance and pulled her off the swing. The two of them tumbled to the ground, and he put out a protective hand to stop the swing from coming back to whack her in the head.

Amanda froze in place, fully realizing what an intimate position they’d ended up in, limbs entwined, their faces mere inches from one another. “I haven’t done that in ages,” she said, attempting to take her mind off the urge to stay right where she was. Ian smelled wonderful, looked even better, and felt so warm and solid, she didn’t want to let go or get up. But she forced herself to do both.

She brushed off the knees of her jeans. “This reminds me of the tree swing Grandpa Satterfield made for Nikki and I when we were small.”

Ian picked up the cap that had tumbled from his head, and put it back on. Amanda straightened, and tried not to notice the way he watched her.

He cleared his throat. “I never really heard Papaw talk about your grandpa.”

“That’s probably because Granny was a widow for so long.” Amanda pushed her hair away from her face with both hands, knowing she must look a mess. “I can barely remember him. The tree swing is one of the only memories I have.”

But Ian wasn’t thinking of swings anymore. The expression in his eyes said he wanted to kiss her, and Amanda took a step backward, making sure she didn’t do something foolish like let him. Or worse still, kiss him first.

“Your hair looks fine,” he said, stilling her motions with a gentle touch to her wrist. “I like it that way.”

“What way?” she joked, in an effort to make light of how he made her feel. “Tangled like a bird’s nest?”

“No.” He reached up to gently pull a strand away from where it had snagged on one of her earrings. “Windblown. Natural. You look like you’ve been having fun.”

She nearly choked. For one crazy second, she’d thought he was about to say she looked like she’d been having sex. Get a hold of yourself! Amanda knew it was only the fact that she hadn’t been intimate with anyone for such a long time that had her thoughts running rampant. It had been one more sore spot between her and Mark, shortly before their breakup. He’d been against the surrogacy procedure for many reasons, but finding out that it meant abstaining from sexual relations until a pregnancy was confirmed had sent him over the edge. The subject had led to their final argument and ultimate parting.

The sobering thoughts brought her back to reality.

“Listen, Ian, I’ve had a wonderful time with you this evening. But I really need to get home.”

“Sure,” he said. “No problem. I had a nice time with you, too.” He pressed his hand against the small of her back, walking her toward his truck.

The gesture was friendly and nothing more, as though he realized he’d overstepped the boundary she’d drawn. Still, Amanda couldn’t stop the feelings his touch evoked, bringing back a reminder of the way his strong hands had pressed against her when he’d pushed her on the swing. Making her wish things were different, and that there could be more than friendship between them. With difficulty, she reminded herself she wasn’t ready for anything more, and that she’d better listen to her head, even if it would have been much more enjoyable to follow her heart.

The heart that told her Ian was everything she’d ever wanted in a man. Warm, funny, sexy, compassionate. She’d seen the pain in his eyes when he’d spoken of his son, and knew he hadn’t made the decision to give up his child lightly. She’d safely bet her last nickel Ian Bonner would make the best father and husband a woman could ask for.

It figured she would find the perfect man now, when she was no longer looking.

IAN HEADED FOR Shade Tree Manor as soon as he’d dropped Amanda off at her place. It was that, or face going home to an empty house with only Cuddles to greet him. There, he might be tempted to sit in the living room and think about how hard it had been to keep his distance from Amanda. It would be easy to dwell on the way she’d made him feel, and take things a step further by pondering what he might do to make her feel the same way about him.

It was obvious Amanda had no interest in getting serious. Which shouldn’t matter, since he barely knew her. But somehow it did matter. He wanted to get to know her better, and planned to see what he could do about that, even if she didn’t want to take things past casual dating. He had time. He wasn’t in a rush to find Mrs. Right. Never had been before now anyway, so what difference did it make if he spent some time with Amanda?

Wondering what issues she was dealing with that had made her come to Boone’s Crossing, Ian strode across the parking lot and into the building. He called out a greeting to the nurses at the front desk, already missing Amanda’s presence. Papaw was watching an old western on cable TV when Ian entered his room.

“Hey, Papaw. How’s it going?”

Zeb gave him a toothless smile. “Fine and dandy.” He reached out to clasp Ian’s hand in an affectionate greeting. His blue eyes twinkled. “So how’d it go? Tell me all the juicy details about your date with Miss Kelly.” He leaned forward in his wheelchair. “Well, not all of ’em, just the G-rated ones.” He cackled and punched Ian in the arm.