Читать книгу Second Chance Courtship - Glynna Kaye - Страница 12

We need to talk.

Ugh. Kara rummaged in a laundry room drawer until she found a small, metal mallet, then she knelt by the insulated chest to break up the bag of solidifying crushed ice. No wonder men hated that phrase when women accosted them with it.

So he thought they needed to talk? Until he walked into the room and she literally ran into him, she’d have agreed. She’d intended, at some point, to apologize as best she could. But not here. Not now. And certainly not after seeing the mutual memory of her immature teenage behavior spark in his expressive eyes. Heard his breath catch when their gazes held for a too-long moment. No, not the shared memory of his being abandoned to the law. Rather, an even more vivid memory of her boldly stepping up to him. Thoroughly kissing him. Making a suggestion she had no business making.

He’d rejected it on the spot.

She gave the ice another series of whacks that sent shattered fragments flying, then stood. She’d been young and stupid back then. Probably every bit as stupid even now because every fiber of her being cried out to dash into the cold, dark night as far from Trey as she could get.

She shouldn’t have come this evening. She’d anticipated a few awkward, public moments if he showed up for Meg’s party. Steeled herself for superficial greetings. Self-conscious small talk. But she hadn’t anticipated him hunting her down, corralling her in the laundry room for one-on-one time. Wanting to settle old scores. Here. Tonight.

With shaky hands she dumped the contents of the plastic bag into the cooler with a resounding clatter.

“What’s taking so long?” Meg appeared in the doorway of the laundry room, Trey’s niece, the infamous screamer, in her arms. Thank goodness the contrary little thing seemed content enough tonight. Maybe her uncle had gotten her down for a nap.

“Where’s Trey? I sent him to help you.”

So much for warning her old friend not to matchmake.

“Davy dragged him upstairs to look at his room.”

“Men.” Meg made a silly face, then frowned. “You okay? You look kinda funny.”

Hope sparked. Now was an ideal opportunity to make her getaway. “A little tired, I guess. Everything from the past weeks is catching up with me. Think I’ll cut out early. Get to bed at a decent hour for a change.”

“You sure?”

She nodded, anxious to retrieve her coat and boots and get out of there. But she’d no more thought it than light footsteps followed by heavier ones clambered down the staircase. Glancing past Meg, she saw Davy and Mary head to the living room and a frowning Trey step into the kitchen, a finger poked in one ear and his cell phone pressed to the other.

He moved to the French doors leading to the patio, flipped on the exterior light and peered into the night. “You’re kidding. Yeah, it’s snowing harder up here, but—”

He turned as Meg and Kara entered the kitchen as well, then covered the mouthpiece. “Jason. DPS won’t let anyone come up the mountain tonight.”

“Oh, no,” Meg whispered, giving Missy a hug.

But Missy paid her little attention, her wide dark eyes fixed on Kara, a dainty hand reaching toward her. Kara managed a weak smile in the child’s direction, hoping Mighty Mouth wasn’t fixing to treat them to a replay of last night’s deafening rendition. She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and cautiously eased away.

Trey continued to listen to his brother, his expression broadcasting dismay with the Arizona Department of Public Safety. He cleared his throat. “Sure, I can cover the care facility stuff. But come on, I don’t know how to preach.”

Kara and Meg exchanged a glance. Jason wanted Trey to preach tomorrow?

“No, no. Don’t lose any sleep over it. I’ll figure something out.” He switched the phone to his other ear. “What? Naw. I don’t think it’s gonna get that bad.”

He again glanced out the glass panes. Snow whipped out of the darkness, piling up at the base of the door. “Well, if it comes to that, maybe we can get a motel room. Don’t want to impose on anybody. But I don’t think—”

Meg and Kara exchanged puzzled glances.

“No, don’t worry. I’ll handle it. Yeah. Yeah. You, too.”

He shut off the phone and let out a gusty sigh. Then he looked over at them, his smile tight. “He says if we get what DPS says we’re going to get, there’s no way I can dig out from his place in the morning in time to cover at the church.”

Meg’s face crinkled in sympathy. “They had to stay overnight with her folks a few weeks ago when we got that foot and a half of snow. I’ve been out there—that forest service road is super-primitive. So you’re covering for Jason tomorrow?”

“Looks like it. He says it’s too late to call a member of the congregation to fill in. Unfortunately,” Trey continued with a glance in her direction, “Reyna’s folks are out of town and I don’t know her siblings well enough to show up on their doorsteps. So I guess we’d better get moving if I’m going to get the girls settled in at a motel.”

He took Missy from Meg’s arms, but the little girl’s brown eyes remained fixed on Kara. “I’m totally unprepared except for a truckload of diapers, but that snow’s accumulating fast.”

“Oh, forget the motel, Trey. I’m sure Joe and his dad would put you up for the night.” Meg motioned to the interior of her house. “The girls can stay with me. Plenty of room here for Rowdy, too.”

“Thanks, but I couldn’t—”

Meg cut him off with a snap of her fingers, her eyes brightening. “No, no, wait. I have a better idea. Kara and I have the perfect solution to your predicament.”

“You do?” His voice held a note of wariness.

Kara didn’t like the sound of her friend’s proposal either. “We do?”

“Sure we do.” Meg stepped across the kitchen, then pulled her purse from a lower cabinet shelf. A moment later she swung around, dangling a key from a fluorescent pink pom-pom key ring.

“Ta da! Remember the apartment I just vacated? Dix’s Woodland Warehouse Bed-and-Breakfast to the rescue.”

From the look on Kara’s face an hour ago when Meg ex tended the unexpected invitation, he was in the doghouse for sure. Their mutual friend’s enthusiastic offer had caught both of them off guard. He’d done his best to protest, to give Kara an out, but an oblivious Meg insisted it was the ideal solution. Caught in the middle, Kara had done the only thing she could do—echoed her old friend’s generous suggestion. Assured him she was more than happy to put him and his nieces up at the Warehouse.

But he knew better.

Nevertheless, here he was in the second-floor apartment, ready to get the girls settled in. Meg kept Rowdy for the night, and Kara indicated she’d be by shortly to make sure they had everything they needed for the unplanned sleepover.

He watched his giggling nieces explore the unfamiliar space, looking none too sleepy if he was any judge. It was a church night, though, so he had to get them tucked in soon. Then he had to figure out a plan for tomorrow’s worship service. And the visit to Pine Country Care.

But first things first.

When Kara showed up, they’d have that little talk he’d promised, even if he had to lasso the little lady to do it.

She’d throttle Meg later.

Lodging a complaint, insisting her friend withdraw the offer, would have made her seem petty. Tightening her grip on the overflowing fabric shopping bag, she exited by the Warehouse’s front door and locked up. Then, scurrying through the deepening snow, she made her way toward a recessed door between the stone-fronted Warehouse and the adjacent bakery.

She didn’t appreciate Meg’s interference—especially after she’d asked her not to set her up with the cowboy. Even if they didn’t have a canyon-size gulf from their past yawning between them, she and Trey didn’t know each other anymore. Had never known each other. Not really. He’d moved to town in November of his senior year. The fire had been in late March, after a series of drought-ridden years. So five months max. Yet she’d spent over a decade bound to him. Chained by guilt.

Gathering her courage, she pulled open the glass-paned door and started up the steep, dimly lit stairs like a condemned prisoner heading for the guillotine. She’d do her best to drop off the bag and make a hasty exit. But what if he tried to corner her as he’d done at Meg’s? Demand an explanation of her cowardice and a long overdue apology?

He had every right. She owed him that.

But not tonight.

At the sound of little girl giggles, running feet and Trey’s cowboyish whoops coming from a door left ajar at the top of the stairs, she paused. The Trey she’d known in those few short months hadn’t been criminally rebellious like some of their peers. No, he just went quietly about his business doing whatever he wanted to do, whether it was not completing homework, skipping school so he could spend more time with the horses at Duffy’s or sneaking an occasional cigarette. In all honesty, it was her own cowardice that sealed his troublemaker image in the mind of the community. Now here he was a dozen years later, a guy with a toddler in his arms and another curtain climber hanging on his leg. A regular family man. No, they didn’t know each other. At all.

At the top of the stairs it was tempting to leave the shopping bag looped over the doorknob and make her escape. But curiosity won over and she gave the door a push. Peeked inside as a giggling Missy, her chubby little legs pumping as fast as they could go, dodged Trey’s outstretched hands.

The apartment’s unobstructed, hardwood expanse made it much too appealing for an active toddler. In fact, except for the bathroom and kitchen, the nonstorage portion of the second floor consisted of a single room divided by a wide, bolted-down bookcase that separated the sleeping quarters from the front area. Perfect for an energetic little kid, as Kara remembered from her own childhood.

She stepped inside as Missy sped by.

“Don’t just stand there laughing, woman, catch her!” Trey lunged again, sliding on the polished wooden floor in his socks. Then he righted himself and in a few quick steps swept the still-giggling toddler into his arms for a bear hug.

Kara couldn’t help but clap her approval of the child’s antics—and Trey’s agile performance. She should have known a cowboy, once he got the hang of it, could round up a kid as easily as a calf.

Still clutching the shopping bag, butterfly wings hammering against the wall of her stomach, she carefully wiped her boots on the rug by the door. “My mom said I did exactly the same thing in here when I was little.”

A grinning Trey approached, Missy squirming in his arms. “You lived up here?”

“From birth through preschool. This was my folks’ first place in Canyon Springs, right above their new business.”

Trey assessed the space with a critical eye. “Now that Meg’s moved out, does your mom have any plans for it?”

Uh-oh. That sounded like a more-than-casual query. She didn’t want Trey upstairs. Didn’t want him in Canyon Springs at all. Mustering a benign smile, she cut him off at the pass. “She’ll need the extra storage space for inventory expansion. Besides, as you can probably tell, it’s not that well insulated. Cold in the winter and hot in the summer.”

The dark-eyed Missy stretched out a hand to her but she pretended not to notice.

“Meg didn’t have any complaints.” He glanced toward Mary who’d wandered to the far side of the room. He took a step closer to Kara and lowered his voice, apparently wanting to make sure the little girl was out of earshot. “Don’t want to talk about this in front of Mary—”

She tensed. Was he going to call her on the carpet? Right here and now?

“—but I’ve already worn out my welcome at my little brother’s place. They’ll be moving back to the parsonage soon, so I need an office and a place to bunk. This would be just the ticket.”

“Don’t think Mom would go for that.”

The slow smile that still made Kara’s heart skip a beat surfaced. “Why not?”

She glanced at the boots standing at attention by the door. A hat nestled on a bookcase shelf, out of reach of the girls. Then looked him over. Worn jeans. Tooled leather belt with a silver buckle. Western-cut burgundy shirt unbuttoned at the collar. Just like in high school, only a more muscled, more grown-up version of the senior classmate she remembered.

“I don’t think she’d go for, you know, a cowboy type.”

“No cowboys, huh?” He pried Missy’s fingers from his earlobe, but his amused gaze didn’t leave Kara’s face. “That’s discrimination, Kara.”

“What I mean is, if Mom was looking for a renter—which she’s not—she’d be expecting a steady income. A stable tenant who’d stick around awhile.”

“Then we’re in business.” He slapped his left leg, the apparent source of the limp. “Busted myself up so many times my surgeon’s washed his hands of me. Says I’d better not get on another bronc or bull or I could end up in traction the rest of my life. I’m grounded for good. So I’m your man.”

Her breath came a little quicker. Her man? Maybe in her dreams. Unfortunately, cowboying wasn’t the only drawback to Trey Kenton. She might as well be blunt. “Mom will remember you as you were in high school.”

“Boys grow up.” A friendly but assessing gaze slid over her and a smile quirked again. “Girls do, too.”

Their gazes met. How easy it would be to fall back into that old flirtatious teenage banter they used to share. The chemistry had stood the test of time, but she couldn’t risk it.

“Well, since Mom’s not looking to rent—”

“Maybe I’ll give her a call.”

He wouldn’t, would he? She lifted the shopping bag still clutched in her hand and held it out to him. It was time to make her escape.

“I stopped off at the Warehouse and got you a few things. Breakfast cereal and a half gallon of milk. T-shirts for the girls to sleep in. Toothpaste. Toothbrushes. A comb. Razor.”

Eyes twinkling, Trey caressed Missy’s soft cheek with the back of his hand. “Noticed the girls need a shave, did you?”

“Right.” Heart pounding, she handed off the bag and dragged her gaze from the firm jaw that once again showed evidence of a dusky shadow. “Snow’s still dumping, so I need to get going. Bedding’s in the chest over there. Meg said she’d washed it up. Washer and dryer behind the louvered doors.” She glanced at him again, still avoiding Missy, who now leaned forward in his arms, hands outstretched toward her. “Do you need any help with anything?”

She hoped not. But as the hostess for his overnight stay, she had to at least offer.

“No, you’ve been more than generous.” He set the bag on a nearby upholstered chair, the expression in his eyes becoming serious. Searching.

Oh, no. “Well, I’ll see you later then. Sleep tight.”

She turned toward the door, but he stepped forward to catch the upper arm of her coat sleeve.

Not now. I need to apologize. Beg his forgiveness. But not tonight. Not now.

He tugged on her sleeve and she momentarily closed her eyes, willing her heart to quiet. Even ventured a prayer. Then took a quick breath and faced him again.

He released her arm but held her gaze. “I know you need to get going, but I’m sorry Meg put you on the spot—offering the apartment without asking you first.”

“Happy to help out.” Happy? What a liar she was.

He glanced down at the floor, then back at her as if uncertain how to proceed. “Look, Kara, for whatever reason, we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot at Meg’s tonight. Maybe even last night in the parking lot at Kit’s.”

She clasped her still-gloved hands. “Guess we were both caught off guard.”

He shifted Missy in his arms and thrust out a hand, his gaze penetrating hers. “What do you say then? Truce?”