Читать книгу Fortune's Twins - Kara Lennox, Kara Lennox - Страница 12

Eli had seen Gwen in the throes of passion. He’d seen her sweetly shy, irritated and embarrassed. But he’d never seen her spitting mad. He liked it. Anger brought out the fire in her green eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. Wisps of her auburn hair escaped from a bun at the nape of her neck, flying every which way in the breeze like banners of fire.

He tossed her a lazy smile. “I’m moving in. I decided I like your little town, and I thought it might be fun to have an address on Lottery Lane.”

“But…but you can’t do that.”

“Of course I can.”

She bit her lower lip, a little less sure of her footing now. “Have you even been in that house?”

“Nope. Bought it sight unseen. But I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’m good with my hands, and if it has any problems, I’ll fix them right up.”

For some reason, she smiled. “You have a key?”

“Right here.” He jingled his key ring.

“Let’s just go inside and have a look.”

A sense of foreboding settled just under Eli’s ribs. Mary Kay Thompson, the real estate agent who’d sold him this house, had warned him that it was in quite a shambles. No one had lived in it for two years, and the house had been in poor repair even before that. But he’d lived in some pretty crummy places in his life. His first apartment, which he shared with a married teenage couple, had featured a hole in the roof big enough to toss a basketball through.

The outside of the faded pink Victorian appeared to be sound. One broken window on the third floor could be fixed quickly enough. A few missing shingles, some peeling paint. Nothing fatal.

The front porch was missing a few boards. He offered his hand to Gwen, to help her across the uneven surface. She hesitated at first. He suspected she wouldn’t have accepted his help if she hadn’t been pregnant. Concern for her safety won out, and she took his hand.

Her hand felt small, soft and warm in his, like a little bird. He remembered how those hands had felt stroking his body, hesitant at first, then bolder as she’d realized the power she had over him.

Better not go there. He shuttered off those memories and focused on the house, his new home. The lock was rusty, but he finally managed to wrestle the door open.

He stepped inside and flipped a light switch. Nothing happened.

“Some critter probably chewed up your wiring,” Gwen said, sounding almost happy.

“Oh, my God,” was all Eli could think of to say as he took in the rotting carpets, peeling wallpaper and cobwebs. Wasps had built nests in the chandelier. Ivy grew through cracks in the windows. In the dining room, the ceiling had caved in, and it smelled as if a colony of stray cats had taken up residence.

The kitchen was even worse. The appliances were circa 1940. Even if the stove worked, he wouldn’t want to use it for fear of asphyxiating himself or causing an explosion.

“Hell, I can’t live here,” he said, disgusted.

“Glad that’s settled.”

“Is Mac’s Auto Repair in the same shape?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“I bought that, too.” The mechanic’s shop, which faced Main Street, backed up to his property. It was a perfect setup for his business. “I’m a mechanic,” he explained.

“Really?” Her irritation with him fled, at least for the moment. “We haven’t had a real mechanic in Jester for years.”

“What about Tex’s Garage?” He’d noticed the small gas station with one car bay on his way into town.

“Tex mostly works on farm equipment. He can manage a quick oil change, but if there’s anything seriously wrong with a car, we have to drive or be towed to Pine Run to have it fixed. But I don’t know that there would be enough business here for you to make a living. That’s why Mac closed up and left.”

“I’ll manage.”

She narrowed her eyes, her momentary affability vanished. “We’ll see about that. Shall we check upstairs?”

He didn’t see the point. He couldn’t live here until he did some work. “I don’t suppose you have a vacancy at the boardinghouse?”

“No, I’m all full.” She wouldn’t meet his gaze, so he kept staring at her. “Oh, all right, I do have an empty room. But you can’t stay with me. What would people say?”

“You don’t rent to male boarders?”

“Well, yes, I do. Oggie Lewis has been with me forever. But everybody knows—thinks you’re the father of my babies. The gossips have been going nuts ever since your first visit to town.”

“Then I suggest everyone will think I’m here to look after the welfare of my children. And is that so bad?”

She sighed. “But what if they’re not your children?”

He sighed right back at her. “Gwendolyn, we both know they’re mine. So why don’t we stop pretending?”

He wasn’t sure what reaction he expected, but it wasn’t fear. Yet she looked up at him with huge green eyes, and that’s what he saw.

“You’re not…I mean, you don’t want them, do you? You aren’t thinking of a custody battle or something like that, are you? Because if you are, mister, you’re in for a helluva—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Did I say anything about custody?”

“No,” she admitted.

“I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t rip two innocent children away from their mother. What kind of monster do you think I am?”

Her voice softened. “I don’t think you’re a monster. But I don’t know you very well.”

“I’d like to remedy that.” His finger traced her jawline, and she didn’t flinch from his touch. He thought about mentioning marriage again. But clearly Gwen was feeling vulnerable right now. If he pushed again, she might close up to him completely. He’d settle for moving into her boardinghouse—for now. “So how about you show me that empty room.”

“It’s not much,” she admitted. “It’s the smallest room in the house. I usually stick Harvey Brinkman in there when he comes to town.”

“Who?”

“Harvey Brinkman. He’s a reporter from the Pine Run Plain Talker, a real pill. He took up residence in Jester after the lottery win. Thought I’d never get rid of him. Anyway, the room is small, but it has a little sitting area and a private bath. No shower, though, just a clawfoot tub.”

“Sounds fine.”

“You probably don’t like dogs. Irene, one of my permanent boarders, has a little Welsh corgi, and you have to be nice to him. Rules of the house.”

“I don’t mind dogs at all. In fact, I had one until recently.”

Her face clouded. “What happened to it?”

He shrugged. “Old age.” It still hurt a bit, thinking of Shadow. The big mutt had showed up at the garage, and after a couple of days Eli had been unable to resist those sad eyes and had started feeding him. Next thing he knew, he was hauling the beast to the vet, and Shadow was his. He’d kept Eli company during the day, and guarded the garage at night. He’d died last year.

A noise at the front door snagged their attention. “Yoo-hoo. Gwen? Did you fall down a rabbit hole?”

“We’re in the kitchen, Stella,” Gwen called. “But don’t bother coming in, we’re coming out.”

When they emerged into the welcome daylight, Eli saw the woman belonging to the voice. She was a cute, pudgy lady in her fifties with curly blond hair and a friendly smile.

“Eli, this is Stella Montgomery. Stella, meet our new boarder.”

Eli shook Stella’s hand. “Just temporary, until I get my place fixed up.”

“How nice to meet you,” Stella effused. “Will you join us for tea? I know Oggie would enjoy having another rooster at the hen party.” She tittered at her own bon mot.

“Thanks, but I have a lot to do.” He had to get that truck unloaded somewhere, which meant he had to find someone to help him. “Do you ladies know of a strong man who might be looking to earn some extra money? Oh, what am I thinking? Nobody in Jester needs money.”

“Don’t believe everything you read in the paper,” Gwen said.

“Ask Oggie how to get in touch with Jimmy—he’s custodian at the school,” Stella said helpfully. “Oggie’s another of your neighbors and the school vice principal. I’ll introduce you.”

GWEN SHOWED Eli his room, which he found satisfactory. She introduced him to Oggie, who grudgingly gave him Jimmy’s phone number.

After Eli left to take care of things, Gwen rejoined her guests on the porch. They all stared at her expectantly, dying to know the whole story.

She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction, she decided. Only Sylvia knew she’d picked Eli up in a bar and had known him precisely ninety minutes before she’d slept with him, and Sylvia would never tell.

“We won’t be seeing him again, huh?” Wyla said, enjoying the fact she could throw Gwen’s words back at her. “Apparently he has other ideas. Why’s he here? Is he going to make an honest woman out of you?”

“We’re not getting married,” Gwen said flatly.

“Why not?” Oggie wanted to know. “I’ll have a talk with that young man.”

“Oh, Oggie, you’re a dear, but I wish you wouldn’t. I believe Eli would marry me if that’s what I wanted. But it’s not necessary in this day and age. Single women raise children all the time. When I marry, it will be for love.”

Wyla sniffed. “Good luck finding a husband when you’re a single mom. You have a better chance of…” She paused.

“Winning the lottery!” Jennifer finished for her, laughter bubbling up.

Everyone else laughed, diffusing the tension. Conversation thankfully turned to other topics—like whether Shelly was carrying a boy or a girl.

But Gwen couldn’t help thinking about Wyla’s barb. She probably wouldn’t ever get married. Even before she was pregnant, the men hadn’t exactly flocked around her. She was just too darn shy, and she spent any free time she had down at Pop’s Movie Theater, escaping into her favorite pastime—alone.

It was true—single mothers had a hard time of it in the marriage department. Was she foolish to dismiss Eli as potential husband material?

Then again, he hadn’t exactly asked her. Oh, he’d mentioned a wedding as a toss-off line as he was leaving town two weeks ago, but she had no idea whether he would seriously consider the possibility. Especially if he knew he couldn’t touch her money.

AFTER TWO DAYS of living under the same roof as Eli Garrett, Gwen began to wonder exactly how he made his living. He claimed to be a mechanic. But he’d made no move to reopen Mac’s Auto Repair to the public. He had a couple of cars over there, rusty old heaps that would look right at home in a junkyard. He tinkered on them early in the morning for a couple of hours, then worked on his house, which at this stage consisted mostly of hauling debris out to the street.

She was ashamed to admit she’d made it her business to find out how he spent his time. She had a perfect view of his house out her kitchen window, or from the front porch. And if she wanted to get a bird’s-eye view of Mac’s, she went up to her apartment on the third floor and peeked out her sitting room window. Climbing all those stairs was a feat in her condition, so when she’d done it for the third time that day, she knew her interest was excessive.

But why shouldn’t she be interested in the father of her children? She wanted to know what kind of genetics she was dealing with, she reasoned.

On the morning of the third day, she was out in front of her house watering her geraniums and enjoying the view—Eli moving back and forth from his house to the street, hauling crumbled plaster and rotting lumber in a wheelbarrow. Wearing old cut-off shorts and a white T-shirt, he was even more intriguing than he’d been in khakis. He had terrific legs, hard and tanned, with well-defined muscles and a dusting of dark hair.

She remembered how that rough hair had felt rubbing against her legs. And his beard, just starting to scratch after a day’s growth, brushing lightly against her thigh—

“Gwendolyn!”

She gasped and whirled around, very nearly dousing the mayor with her hose. He jumped out of the way with more agility than a man of his girth should exhibit. Then again, she shouldn’t be throwing stones where girth was concerned.

“Goodness, you were a million miles away,” Mayor Bobby Larson said in his most unctuous tone. His blond-bimbo secretary, Paula Pratt, stood right behind him, steno-book poised to record his every brilliant word, should he give her an order. Paula’s eggplant P.T. Cruiser was parked at the curb. Like they couldn’t walk from the town hall? It was all of two blocks.

Not that Gwen herself would walk two blocks she didn’t have to, but she had a good excuse.

“To what do I owe the honor, Mayor?” Gwen asked pleasantly, though she already knew the answer. He was going to try to get her support for the hotel. She’d been one of the most strident protesters, attending every town council meeting and pointing out all the drawbacks. Shy as she was, on this matter she was adamant, and she forced herself to speak up.

She wasn’t in the mood to argue with Bobby today. Then again, as hot and bothered as she was from watching Eli, maybe a distracting argument with the mayor would help burn off some nervous energy.

Or maybe she should just turn the hose on herself.

“I hear you got another offer on your little estate, here.”

“How did you know that?” She’d opened the envelope, glanced at the offer, then put it on her desk in the office and forgot about it. She hadn’t spoken of it to anyone. “I hope Mary Kay Thompson knows that real estate transactions are confidential.”

Bobby shrugged. “Oh, I just heard it through the grapevine. You know how Jester is.”

Yeah, right.

“Are you considering the offer?” he asked.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” she countered. “I know I’ve been a thorn in your side lately.”

Bobby smiled his used-car-salesman smile. “Gwen, of course not. I’m asking out of concern. Since you’ll soon have children to raise—twins, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’ll really have your hands full. Running this boardinghouse has got to be a full-time job—cooking, cleaning, laundry, yard work. How can you expect to adequately care for your children under those circumstances?”

“The same way busy women have done it for centuries, I imagine,” she said mildly. “Any other questions?”

“I understand the price offered was way above the property’s current valuation.”

“That doesn’t really matter to me,” Gwen said. “I don’t need the money.”

“Yes, throw it in our faces, why don’t you,” Paula muttered.

Bobby gave his secretary a nasty look, then turned back to Gwen, ready with another argument. “I understand the, um, father of your children has come calling. Now that you’re, er, reconciled, won’t you be wanting to marry him and move to wherever he lives?”

“I would never leave Jester,” Gwen said flatly. She hated big cities. Her maternal grandparents lived in Billings, and she occasionally visited them, though they considered her something of an embarrassment, a reminder that their daughter married a pig farmer. But they tolerated her. Other than that, Gwen never visited any cities bigger than Pine Run.

“Then he’ll come here,” Bobby continued. “And your third-floor apartment is too small for a family of four.”

Gwen had lost patience with the meddling mayor. “I will manage somehow, thank you very much. Is this really any of your business?”

“I’m concerned,” he said again. “Once the hotel project goes through, it could have a negative impact on the value of your property.”

“Not to mention my quality of life,” Gwen snapped. “Anyway, I thought the town council had vetoed your idea to build a hotel in the community park.”

“They did. But they’re beginning to come around. And there’s also the Carter place. And Mac’s.”

“Oh, really?”

Just then, Eli dumped another wheelbarrow full of debris onto the growing pile at the curb.

Bobby looked over. “Who the devil is that?”