Читать книгу Baby Dreams And Wedding Schemes - C.J. Hill - Страница 10
ОглавлениеChapter Two
“Amen.” Cody’s loud voice reverberated through the solemn silence of the woods later that afternoon.
Jake watched as Sasha Lambert leaned down to drop a few handfuls of the rich dark soil onto the tiny box that held his son’s dead goldfish
Cody wasn’t quite so dainty and Jake grinned as the little boy heaped up piles of the rich black soil with his bare hands. His pants were dirty and stained and there was a tear in one leg. Again! It was doubtful the shirt would be good for much but the rag basket after today. And Cody’s shoes? Well, they could probably be restored to something like their former state.
Somehow.
“We can have the lunch now,” his son told them cheerfully. “They always have lunch after funerals. To celebrate the person’s life, right, Dad?” He looked from Sasha to his father for confirmation. Jake felt another pair of eyes fasten on him, as well.
“Yes, well, uh, that’s right, Cody,” he mumbled, and felt embarrassed at the strange look she gave him. She was probably right. A five-almost-six-year-old shouldn’t know so much about funerals.
“Sorry, guys.” Sasha’s cheerful voice broke the silence. “I haven’t got a lunch. I’ve got supper!”
He watched her kneel beside Cody.
“I’ve got hamburgers and potato salad and pickles and chips and double-chocolate brownies. How about that, sport?”
Cody grinned. “I’m not a sport.”
Jake heard him giggle as Sasha tickled him under his chin.
“You’re not,” she said, pretending astonishment. “I was sure you were a good sport.” She rippled her fingers across his stomach and under his arms, drawing out squeals of glee. “Are you sure you’re not?”
He watched them cavort in the sun-dappled woods and thought how long it had been since he’d heard his son laugh so readily. Cody seemed to have developed a strong rapport with the owner of the local craft store in a remarkably short time.
Not that she wasn’t remarkable herself. Sasha Lambert was every bit as curious as the name she had given to her business. She was tall, stretching to just above his chin, and well rounded in all the right places. He knew that because she was wearing a yellow kind of skirt-shorts thing that showed off those long legs and a scooped-neck knit top that gave him a very good view of all of her assets. He tried to ignore the top’s bilious purple color, which bore a significant resemblance to the shade of her unusual furniture.
She was a pretty woman with that black cap of feathery hair cut close to her scalp, cupping the regal lines of her neck. The deep richness of its raven tones highlighted her round, expressive eyes and lent their green hue a clarity that was very effective in raising his temperature when she focused them on him.
He hated that flutter of awareness that tingled low in his stomach. It was, well, a betrayal of Angela somehow. A denial of the place his late wife should hold in his heart. The fact that Angela had died at the lowest point in their marriage was something he refused to think about.
Angela was gone. Why, then, did he feel so guilty? Why couldn’t he let her rest in peace?
It was a punishment; he understood that now. He hadn’t appreciated his wife’s fragility, her inability to handle the myriad problems that came with his job. He’d ignored her complaints and focused solely on the opportunity to get ahead. After all, they would have time later on.
Only they hadn’t. And Jake couldn’t ever say the words of apology that haunted him yet. He would live with that for the rest of his life. He shoved the thought away.
Despite his best intentions, Jake’s eyes persisted in their scrutiny of the vibrant young woman in front of him.
Sasha Lambert was nothing like Angela. She had a wide strong face with prominent cheekbones and a straight nose that tipped at the bottom just a bit. It was her mouth that really told him about her, though.
It curved and slanted and tipped in a thousand different ways when she spoke. Wide and mobile, with flashing white teeth, Jake was fascinated by the many moods delineated on that expressive face. He knew a word that exactly expressed the intangible quality he had seen in Sasha Lambert.
“Gallimaufry.” A hodgepodge or mixture of unrelated things. He wondered if he would see that look of delight cross her face again if he told her.
“Can we, Dad?”
Jake awoke from his study to find two pairs of eyes fixed on him. “Uh, I’m not...”
She took pity on him.
“We were just going to go over to the picnic area to get our fire started, Mr. Windsor. Are you coming?”
“Well,” he prevaricated, watching her closely. “I’m not sure I’m invited.”
She said nothing, waiting for Cody to give the word.
“Sasha always says ‘the more the merrier,”’ the little boy quoted. “I do, too.”
With a whoop of excitement, Cody whirled off after Sasha’s dog, tearing wildly through the overhanging boughs.
“‘Sasha always says,’?” he questioned softly. “Just how long has Cody been coming into your store, Miss Lambert?”
“About five days, on and off. Long enough to hear me say that, I guess.” She kept on walking, glancing placidly around at the trees. “And please call me Sasha. No one in Allen’s Springs calls me Miss.”
“I’ll speak to him,” Jake declared out loud. “He shouldn’t be bothering you at all, let alone at work. My housekeeper, Mrs. Gamer, is supposed to be watching him.” His gray eyes searched hers. “And my name is Jake,” he told her. “You can forget all that Reverend and Mister stuff.”
He frowned, wondering what else he had missed about his son’s current life. Hadn’t they made any progress after that desolate year when he’d been content to let his parents deal with Cody’s and his needs rather than force himself to deal with the raw edges of his own life?
Her voice drew him out of his reflections.
“Actually, I like it when he shows up in the store. I’ve been thinking of trying a new line of kids’ crafts for the children we get in when their parents come to use the spa. Cody’s been sort of test marketing things.” He watched her eyes close for a moment. “When I was a kid, there were always children around. I miss that.”
She glanced fondly at the boy and the dog, hunched together at the bottom of an old oak tree. “He gives Oreo a run for her money, too.”
Jake stared. “Oreo?” This was a dog’s name?
“Well, she has three chocolate spots and I thought she looked like a cookie when she was a pup.” She met his appraising glance with an embarrassed look. “It’s probably not appropriate for her breeding title, but who cares.” Her shoulders shrugged with indifference.
“Who, indeed,” he repeated, mulling over the events of the past hour. What a strange afternoon! But then everything about this woman was unexpected.
“This is the best table in the park,” she told him moments later.
Jake watched as she spread a plastic checked cloth over the picnic table and began to unpack the basket he had lugged across the thick grass.
“Aren’t you going to start the fire?” she chided, obviously waiting for him to begin.
He glanced up from his scrutiny of her very long, very shapely legs, to find her wide green eyes fixed on him curiously.
“Don’t you know how?” she asked kindly.
He felt himself bristle.
“Of course I know how to build a fire. I was the top camper in my Boy Scout troop,” he heard himself say smugly.
Oh, for Pete’s sake, Windsor, he admonished his overactive ego. It was an innocent offer to help. Don’t offend her yet again with your stupid assumptions. As he chopped and split the wood, Jake found himself answering her questions.
“How long have you been in Allen’s Springs?”
“Five days, give or take.” He grinned. “Cody must have been at your place on the first day. I’ve been so busy unpacking, I guess I haven’t paid enough attention.” As usual, he added to himself.
She glanced up from unloading the basket.
“Unpacking for so long? I don’t think I own enough possessions to unpack for five days straight. You must have brought a lot of stuff.”
“Yes, there is a lot to deal with. It’s all been in storage, you see. Since Angela’s death. While we were overseas.” He said the words without thought.
She had that warm, fuzzy look again. It made him nervous. Jake wasn’t sure he had enough strength left in him to fend off another man-hungry female but he sure as heck wasn’t ready to fall into the predatory clutches of some lonely woman on the make.
Then again, Sasha had made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t interested in men, just children. He decided to be cautious. Time would tell if she was merely trying another ploy from the “single woman syndrome.”
He straightened his spine with determination.
“What was it like?” The words were soft and dreamy, barely audible above Cody’s roughhousing with Oreo.
Jake frowned. “What was what like?”
“Overseas?”
He had to grin at his own foolishness. Sasha Lambert wasn’t a repressed spinster, she was a repressed traveler! He felt even sillier now.
“Well, I spent quite a lot of time at Oxford, actually. The past two years I’ve been working on a dissertation for my doctoral thesis. It was a much slower pace than I’d been used to. The life we led in Toronto wasn’t conducive to a lot of internal meditation.”
“England,” he heard her breathe. “I’ve always wanted to go there. Everything looks so lush and green in pictures people bring back.”
Jake watched her wide green eyes sparkle with enthusiasm as she stared, totally unfocused, at her own verdant surroundings.
“Tower Bridge, the Crown Jewels. Oh,” she gasped as another thought struck. “Did you see Windsor Castle?”
He nodded. It was refreshing to see such excitement. Even Cody hadn’t been this enthused by their numerous sight-seeing excursions, and it was supposed to have been his holiday!
“All of it that I could,” he told her. Jake studied her in the bright sunlit glade.
“I guess you would. How does it feel to have your own castle?” Sasha giggled, her jade eyes twinkling at some inner joke.
He cast her a frowning look.
“You know, Windsor Castle—Jacob Windsor?”
He grinned.
“Oh, I don’t go back much now,” he told her in the Queen’s good English. “Too many drafts, you know. Have you traveled much?” Jake studied her smiling face with interest.
Sasha shook her dark head sadly.
“No. I was to have gone to Hawaii last winter but Dwain...” She let the words trail away, leaving him more curious than ever about her and the man she’d just mentioned. “Well, I think this fire is going to have to burn down some before we can roast anything on it.” It was a definite change of subject, but he let her get away with it.
Jake watched her slide gently to the grass, her long legs curled beneath her. Legs like that should be covered, he told himself, noting their smooth curves with growing interest. He quelled that inner spark of awareness and seated himself opposite her, keeping a watchful eye on Cody.
“Now you know about me,” he said. “Let’s hear about you.”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“Nothing much to know. I’ve lived here for about two years. I like the small community and my business is built around the tourism the mineral springs generates as well as local people who sell their wares to the visitors we get.”
Jake noted the glimmer of excitement that darkened her eyes when she spoke of her work. It was a good sign. Women who were involved in their own lives weren’t as likely to interfere in his.
“What did you do before that?” he asked curiously. “Surely you could have traveled then?”
A smile curved her wide mouth, tipping the corners up and showing her even teeth. She shook her dark head.
“Uh-uh. Too busy climbing the corporate ladder. Or trying to.”
“So what happened to change that?” Jake found himself studying her. The corporate ladder? Sasha Lambert looked nothing like the hard-nosed businesswomen he associated with corporate ladders.
She tipped her head to one side, nibbling on a fingernail as she considered his question and her answer.
“I hated the anonymity of the city. I moved here to be my own boss. I thought I’d found Mr. Right when I got engaged to Dwain, but my prince turned out to be a frog.” She shrugged, grimacing. “A little while ago I suddenly realized that because of him, I wasn’t anywhere near achieving the things I really wanted out of life—things that I’d left the city to find.”
“Like what?”
“A home of my own. Friends and neighbors who care. Independence. A child.” She ticked them off on her fingers.
His ears perked at that as Jake felt all his senses go on red alert. But Sasha wasn’t looking at him. She was staring at the patch of grass she had tugged from the ground.
“I guess I thought I needed a man to give me all that,” she murmured, thinking aloud. “Maybe that’s how I got mixed up with Dwain. Everyone sort of paired us off. He is the town’s most eligible bachelor, after all!” He heard the self-mockery in her voice and resolved to find out more about the man.
“I knew it couldn’t go on. We didn’t want the same things. Dwain wasn’t interested in family and I want to settle down. When I finally got the courage to have it out with him a couple of months ago, our split caused a nineday wonder around here. I’m hoping that all that’s past now.” She tipped her head toward him then, chin jutting out defiantly.
“I don’t need a man to give my life meaning. And I’ve realized that Dwain certainly doesn’t need me. He just needs a dog, a housekeeper and someone to keep him warm.” She blushed, as if just realizing she was talking to a minister. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Dwain is a nice man, really. I’m just not suited to playing the part of the doting ‘little woman of the farm,’ I guess.”
She glanced down disparagingly. “Especially when I’m taller than he is.”
Jake tried to stifle it. He really did.
But the mental picture his mind conjured up of this tall exotic beauty mincing along in the path of some short, toady old farmer was just too much. His shoulders shook with mirth.
“I’m sorry.” He choked. “I’m not laughing at you. Really.”
“Yes, you are,” she returned tartly. Then she grinned. “But that’s okay. Sometimes I have to laugh at me, too.”
He liked her spirit, Jake decided. There were enough poor souls in this world who took things too seriously. He somehow sensed that Sasha Lambert had that irrepressible quality that would help her bounce back from disappointment.
“So exactly what do you do in Bednobs and Broomsticks?” he asked curiously. “The name is certainly attention-getting.”
“On purpose. We do everything. I can cater to most events, plus do cake decorating, wedding decorations, veils, bouquets, all kinds of craft supplies and make a whole lot of handmade articles for sale.” She grinned at him. “To name a few.”
Jake grinned back. “But you don’t do funerals?”
She took it in stride. “Nope. Sorry.”
“And your newest venture is trains?”
“Yes.” Her eyes sparkled with animation. “The men here are really getting into the act, especially with all the interest in the restoration of the old train station. They make a great birthday gift.” She grinned at him.
“From Cody’s reaction, I’ll bet the kids like them, too,” Jake muttered, watching as her eyes strayed over to the table.
“Is that fire about ready?” she asked. “I’m starved.”
“Pretty close,” he murmured, offering her a hand up only to find her slim form almost pressed against him when she surged to her feet. He stared into her shimmering green eyes for several moments, sliding his gaze down to note the dewy softness of her lips. Kissable lips. The kind that would taste sweet and haunting, begging him to come back for more.
He wanted to kiss her, to taste the zest and delight she found in life. But the very thought of doing such a thing amazed him. The moments ticked by as he studied the healthy sheen of her skin and the warm coloring that lit her cheeks with an inner light. And even as he stared, Jake felt his own body come alive in a way he hadn’t known in months—years.
When Sasha finally moved away, Jake mentally shook himself. He watched her brush at a fly and immediately felt disloyal, remembering how much Angela had detested cooking out of doors. The bugs and dust and smoky odors had set her teeth on edge and yet Sasha seemed perfectly comfortable with all three. As he checked the coals and adjusted the fire until the flames were minimal but gave off a glowing heat, Jake felt the solitude of the green spacious park invade his soul.
He’d missed this, he realized. For the first time in ages, the numbing fog that held him captive seemed to be evaporating, and the colors and smells and vibrancy of life were drawing on his senses. Maybe it was time he got back into living.
“Fire’s about right, I’d say. I’ll get Cody if you want to start the burgers.” He had only taken a few steps when she muttered something. “I beg your pardon?” Jake searched her gleaming eyes.
“I said, that’s all I am to you—a cook? Talk about preconceived notions! How like a male chauvinist!”
He grinned appreciatively.
“I’m not quite that puerile,” he chided and stalked away, enjoying the frown on her face. Halfway across the lawn he relented and turned back, ready to explain, but she forestalled him.
“No,” she agreed, staring at her hands and speaking so softly Jake barely heard the words. “I think you’re far beyond the childish stage. And that has probably discomfited more than a few women.” He barely heard the last few whispered words. “Me, included.”
As he strode over the uneven terrain, Jake grinned to himself. There was something about her that made him take himself lightly. He liked that. He’d been too serious for far too long.
But that’s all it was, he told the clear blue sky. Just someone to talk to and maybe a friend for Cody. He didn’t want anything else. He couldn’t. It was too hard.
They munched on burgers and chips, drank the lemonade and bought an ice cream cone from the boy pedaling his little truck through the park.
After that, Cody insisted on a game of catch. Sasha showed them the ducks and rabbits near the pond at the end of the park and they fed the animals the scant remains of their supper. It was an idyllic evening that Sasha allowed herself to thoroughly enjoy.
As she packed everything up, Cody’s tired voice penetrated her musings.
“We’re just like a real family, Dad,” he murmured, snuggling his head against his father’s broad shoulder as the sunlight waned and darkness loomed among the tall pines.
“A mom and a dad and a kid.”
Sasha felt his fist tugging her heartstrings once more. It was uncanny the way the child got to her this way. Just a few words and she was ready to forfeit her hard-won independence for the sake of a motherless little boy.
“It was fun, son;” she heard Jacob say. “But now I think we’d better get you into bed. Tomorrow’s Sunday and I’ve got a bit of work to do on my sermon yet.”
“Oh, please,” Sasha murmured, anxious not to waylay him. “Go ahead home. I’ll take the shortcut to my place. There’s no need for you to walk me there.”
His gray eyes were clear and focused as he met her gaze.
“It’s not a problem,” he said. “Cody and I will see you home first.”
She read the underlying words with no difficulty. And knew why he didn’t want to say them. It would be tantamount to admitting they’d had a date if he said he never let a woman walk home alone. And the last thing Jacob Windsor intended was to have her—or anyone else—think that he wanted a woman in his life.
“Show me the shortcut,” was all he said.
So she did. And ten minutes later they were at the side door of her business-cum-home.
“Thanks for a lovely time,” she murmured, unwilling to wake the drowsy child.
“We should be thanking you,” he returned. “I’ll try to ensure that Cody doesn’t make a nuisance of himself anymore.”
She knew it was pointless to tell him that she enjoyed the energetic little boy. Jacob Windsor would only see it as her attempt to inveigle herself into his good graces.
Instead Sasha smiled and eased in through the door with her basket, murmuring a soft good-night.
It didn’t take long to get ready for bed and she decided to sit on the patio for a few moments in the dark. Sasha enjoyed the solitude. It was especially gratifying to sit outside tonight relaxing and thinking of the past few hours.
Thanks, Lord, for letting me see that there are still some real men in the world.
Sasha grinned to herself.
Even if they’re not for me. That sounded childish.
Not that I need one. Defiant. That was better.
Except to have a child with. She got up and climbed the stairs to bed. It was the same old circuitous argument that led nowhere and answered none of her questions.
Biological clock or not, she still ached with this incredible longing to have her own child, to create a family circle of her very own. Why would she feel this way if God intended her to remain single?
There was no answer.
Sunday morning dawned bright and clear, which seemed to account for the large crowd at church. That and the fact that it was the first Sunday for the new minister. Sasha glanced around the small sanctuary and noticed the wealth of females in attendance.
A small grin twitched at the side of her lips. Let’s see you wiggle out of this one, Reverend Windsor, she snickered as she ticked off the possible contenders.
Mrs. Garner was old enough to be his mother, but she sat there, front and center, decked out in her Sunday-go-to-meeting hat and a brand-new dress. Sasha made a mental note to check whether the woman had shed her customary brown support hose for the occasion. Cody sat by the woman’s side, eagerly gazing ’round the small church.
Flora Brown, the church secretary, was also an older single woman. Today her mousey dry hair was ruffled into a new style that took years off her plain face. And she was not wearing black!
Maudie Roach, as I live and breathe. Sasha barely stifled the tickle of laughter that begged release as the town’s most eligible female sauntered suggestively down the aisle and placed herself in the center seat, second row. Her shapely figure was displayed to perfection in the fitted white silk suit she wore. A thigh-high slit in the skirt showed off her slim legs and dainty toes in sandals with four-inch heels.
For one green moment Sasha allowed jealousy to invade her. Just once she’d like to be short enough to be able to wear heels that endowed her with a regal grace and elegance instead of these plain flatties that minimized her five-foot-eleven-something stature.
And next to the expensive cut of Maudie’s outfit, Sasha’s own floral sundress looked home-made. Which it was, she mocked herself gently. She’d given up buying haute couture outfits when she’d moved to Allen’s Springs to become independent. A decision which I do not regret, she assured herself sternly.
“Morning, Vera.”
Looking frazzled and hot, Mrs. Bratley slipped onto the empty seat beside her, fingers clenched around the wriggling arm of her five-year-old son Bobby.
Sasha smiled sympathetically.
“Having a tough day?” she murmured as she watched the town brat snitch a soda cracker from the baby behind them.
“Just the usual.” Vera sighed. “Bobby didn’t want to come to church today. Hector’s gone fishing, you see.”
Sasha nodded. She knew exactly how Bobby felt. There had been times in her life when she would have far preferred to worship God in the cool stillness of the river rather than the stuffy confines of First Avenue Church.
While his mother leafed through the bulletin, Sasha slipped the child a mint, which he promptly chewed while holding his hand out for a second.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “That’s all I have.”
He went for her handbag, but Sasha slipped it to the other side just as the Reverend Jacob Windsor moved behind the pulpit.
It wasn’t a long service. The hymns were familiar upbeat ones that encouraged and uplifted the spirit. Maudie favored them with a solo that had the rafters resounding with pure, clear contralto tones that Sasha refused to allow herself to envy.
But the message... Now that was something else.
He started off well, Sasha decided.
“Cody and I would like to thank each of you for your kind welcome to Allen’s Springs. We are looking forward to getting to know all of you much better in the weeks and months ahead.”
And then came the warning.
“Although my wife has passed away, Cody and I are very happy together. We have many fond memories that we share when we’re feeling low. And so, while I appreciate the numerous invitations you’ve so graciously extended, we must have time to find our place together in this community.”
It was well said, she’d give him that. But the intent was still the same.
Back off.
There were more words along the same lines, but Sasha tuned the rest out as she surveyed the crowd for reactions.
Mrs. Garner was studying her gloves as if they were covered with some distasteful substance while Flora sat stiffly facing the front. Sasha couldn’t detect even the twitch of muscles in the harsh profile view. Two teenage girls were giggling and whispering to each other as they cast wide-eyed soulful eyes at Jacob.
But it was Maudie who made her teeth clench.
Gorgeous, self-aware Maudie, who leaned back in her seat comfortably. A predatory look that Sasha had seen numerous times curved the full red lips. In a movement as old as time, Maudie flicked back the silver-gilt curls with a careless twitch of her neck, her eyes studying the man in front of them all.
She’s gonna go for him, Sasha’s subconscious whispered. She’s loaded for bear.
The words rattled around and around her brain as the pastor pronounced the benediction. They ate away at her as she bid her friends and neighbors good morning. They nagged her conscience as she shook Reverend Windsor’s hand and facetiously thanked him for the “enlightening” sermon.
They hissed at her as she watched Dwain amble over to Maudie, trying desperately to get the other woman’s attention.
Warn him. Tell Jake what to expect.
“Lovely job of the bulletin, Flora. I really like those cartoons on the back.”
Tell him to be careful. If she gets her hooks in, he’ll wonder what hit him.
“Cody! It’s nice to see you again. I do like that shirt.”
Do you want Maudie Roach to become that child’s mother?
“Stop it,” she snapped, causing old Mr. Abernathy to pull his hand away abruptly.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, red-faced. “I was thinking of something else.” She watched him walk away with a frown.
“Home, I need to go home. Get out of this sun.” Sasha hoped no one would notice she was talking to herself.
“Exactly what I was thinking.” Maudie stood smiling artlessly down at her, Pastor Jacob directly behind holding the handle of her white parasol with two fingers. “You bigger women always seem to have trouble with the heat.”
“Bigger women” indeed!
It was a direct slam that hit home painfully since Sasha was only too conscious of her own overly large frame when measured against the other woman’s petite size. Sasha held her hands at her side, curved her nails down and forced her lips to smile.
“Oh, you don’t worry about me, Maudie. I’m not the one who needs a parasol. Actually, I’m quite strong. I don’t need a man to protect me from the elements.”
The woman looked like a cat, Sasha decided. A very contented cat as she curled her arm into the minister’s muscled black-robed arm.
“Oh, I just love having a big strong man around. It’s so refreshing to be taken care of.”
You and Scarlett O’Hara, Sasha thought, turning away. It was disgusting. She strode down the road, heading for home like a scared rabbit. Enough was enough!
She stripped the dress off in her bedroom and slid on a cool cotton romper that allowed the air to caress her heated skin.
“Bigger woman, indeed,” she muttered, assembling a sandwich for herself from the assortment of cold cuts and the garlicy dill pickles she loved. She was proud of her height and her well-endowed figure. She was!
Sasha refused to admit that she had donned the outfit in the hopes that a certain man and his son would stop by. She tried to remember all the confident, self-reliant messages she had learned while disengaging herself from a dependent relationship with Dwain.
