“I don’t care about that. Not really. Allison had a wonderful time helping.”
“Actually, Al—”
“But do you have to call her Al?”
“You don’t think that’s cute?” Zach picked up a stick and threw it for Beethoven.
“Sounds tomboyish.”
“I think it fits her.” He leaned down and pried the stick from Beethoven’s mouth.
“Hold still.” Diana slapped at his bare arm.
“Hey, if you don’t want me to use the nickname, just say so.” He chuckled as he glanced at her.
“Mosquito.” She swept the crushed remains from her palm. “We’ll have to go in or be eaten alive.”
“You mean just when the temperature out here becomes bearable, the mosquitoes attack and drive us in? What a place!”
She chuckled. “Perhaps you should put the weather and the mosquitoes in your dissertation. Maybe what we thought was a mole on Lincoln’s face was a giant mosquito bite.”
He swiped at his neck, where another spindly insect had settled. “I don’t doubt it. Hey, what’s that over there?” He pointed toward a large bush in the corner of the yard where several pinpricks of light flashed, and his voice grew excited. “Are they fireflies?”
“We call them lightning bugs, but yes, that’s what they are.”
“Why didn’t I see them around the motel?”
Diana thought about it. “I guess because they don’t show up too well when there’s a moon, and it’s darker tonight.”
“Let’s catch one.”
“Catch one?” She laughed. “That’s the girls’ department. Haven’t you ever seen them before?”
“No, and I want to catch one.”
“In our hands?”
“Sure. Come on.” He loped toward the bush, and she watched him make frantic passes at the flickering insects.
“Slower,” she cautioned, crossing to him. With partially cupped palms she carefully tracked one of the tiny winged creatures then gracefully closed both hands around it.
“Got him!” she crowed.
“You’re a real pro,” Zach proclaimed, and she laughed again in delight. “And I love to hear you laugh. Let me peek inside and see that firefly, or lightning bug, or whatever you call him.”
Diana held her cupped hands up and opened them a crack. Zach took both her hands in his and brought them up to eye level.
“Yep. There’s that little sucker, winking away. Amazing.” Then he took both her hands and opened them to allow the insect to escape. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She took a shaky breath, trying not to make too big a deal out of the fact that he still held both her hands.
When he spoke his voice was husky. “When you let yourself loosen up a little, you’re a different person. That fascinates me.” His thumb stroked lazily across the back of her hand.
She tried to breathe normally. “I can’t be that person very often. Somebody has to be the adult in charge.”
“What a shame, lovely Diana. Did anyone ever tell you your eyes are the color of moonlight?”
“No,” she whispered, leaning toward him in the gathering dusk.
“Or that your skin is as pure white as a moonbeam?”
“No.”
His breathing grew harsh. “God, I want to kiss you.”
She jerked backward, her heart pounding. “No. We can’t. I mustn’t. I’m a widow—with two daughters. I—”
Abruptly he released her hands. “Then run in the house quick, Widow Thatcher. Before neither of us wants you to go.”
Four
Horrified at her reaction to Zach, Diana lay awake most of the night planning repair projects. She would allow no more of those idle moments on the back porch swing. The solution to keeping Zach—and herself, she was honest enough to admit—in line was the same solution that worked so well in guiding her daughters away from mischief. She’d keep him busy.
When he arrived at the breakfast table looking none too rested himself, she handed him coffee and a plate of bacon and eggs. Then she smacked an extensive list down next to his fork. He picked up the paper, and she watched with satisfaction as his blue eyes widened.
With a low whistle he tossed the list to the center of the table. “Judging from this, the house qualifies for urban renewal. Is everything on there urgent?”
“Would you like to reconsider our arrangement?”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do the work. Aren’t you eating?”
“I’ve already had something.”
“In that case I appreciate the extra trouble to fix my breakfast.”
“It won’t happen often.”
He met her gaze. “You’re upset about last night, aren’t you?”
“Zach, be quiet. The girls—”
“Are sound asleep, like normal adolescents during summer vacation.” He dug into his breakfast.
“But you never know, and sound carries through this old house. I heard you pacing last night.”
“Did you? Why didn’t you use the old broom handle on the ceiling trick? I would have stopped.”
“Next time I will,” she said. “I hope you don’t make a habit of it.”
“I pace when I’m frustrated.”
She rubbed her bare arms and looked away. “I’m reacting about as maturely as one of my daughters. The fact is, you scare me.”
“Diana—” He rose and made a movement toward her.
“Stay put.” She backed away. “Don’t feel sorry for me. That’s how we got in trouble before.”
He sank back onto the chair. “Perhaps I should leave. You obviously don’t trust me. I’ve made you uptight.”
She smiled. “Uptight. That’s certainly a California word. But I guess it fits.”
“So what do you want to do?”
She gazed at him silently for several seconds as the dripping faucet added a primitive rhythm to her thoughts. What did she want to do? He would be shocked to the tips of his brown toes if he knew the fantasies that had paraded through her head last night. Indecent fantasies about his sun-bronzed body—how her pale fingers would explore and caress this blond Adonis who had invaded her house and her mind. How he, in turn, would bring her to mindless ecstasy. The steady beat of the water pounded in her ears.
“Diana, when you look at me like that, I don’t understand why we’re playing these games.”
She dropped her gaze immediately, whirled toward the sink and twisted the chrome handle. “Stupid faucet! We have to stop this dripping.”
“Today?”
“No, not today, but soon. Maybe after school starts. Right now, with the girls home all day, I use the sink too much to have it torn apart for several hours.”
“Then you want me to stay?”
“The girls seem very pleased you’re here.”
“How about their mother?”
She sighed and fingered the velvet leaves of the African violets on the windowsill. “I wish—”
“Me, too.”
She glanced at him. “You don’t know what I was going to say.”
“Yes, I do. It’s the same thing that I thought over and over last night. The same thing men and women all over the world say when they meet the right person at the wrong time.”
Her cheeks grew warm and she bowed her head so that her hair covered them. “I should send you packing, Zachary Wainwright.”
“Don’t do it just yet.”
“No good can come of this.”
He picked up the list. “Oh, I don’t know. Lots of civilization’s accomplishments are the result of rechanneled sexual energy.”
She looked up and caught his grin. Oh, yes, this man was big trouble.
“I’ll put in time on my dissertation this morning and tackle something on the list this afternoon. By tonight I should be too exhausted to, ah, pace.”
“Fine. Pick whatever you like on the list.”
“What I would like isn’t on the list.”
“Zach!” H
er voice was strangled.
“Okay. I’ll be good.” He scanned the piece of paper, which she knew contained some tough jobs. Plumbing needs were big in this house. She’d written down a few rewiring projects, too. “I think I’ll start with painting.”
She took a deep breath. “All right. As you may have noticed, the paint on the window sills and sashes is blistered and peeling. I’d rather you started out there and worked in.”
“Take care of outward appearances first, huh?”
“In more ways than one. Your presence on a ladder in the yard will give credibility to your position as the handyman around here.”
“I see. Reputation time. I’ll also be farther away from you. Unless you’re going to help?” he finished hopefully.
“Nope. That’s why you’re here. I have plenty of my own work to do.”
“All work and no play—”
“Keeps temptation at bay.”
“Very clever.” He drained his coffee cup and stood. “I take it that means you won’t join me in another cup of coffee before we begin the day?” He approached the sink with his empty plate and cup.
“No, thanks.” She moved away to give him room. “I have errands, and I’d better start before the stores get crowded. I’ll pick up the paint when I’m out. See you at lunch.” She fled from the kitchen, his amused chuckle following her.
* * *
After lunch Allison wandered out to the back porch, where Zach was stirring a can of paint. “It always reminds me of melted vanilla ice cream,” she said.
He held up the wooden stick and let the paint run back into the can. “You’re right.”
“You’ve done all the scraping already?”
He looked up. “Scraping?”
“Yeah. Dad used to spend about half a day scraping the old paint off. Are you done already?”
“Uh, not exactly. Just checking the paint.” When she stared uncomprehendingly at him, he felt obliged to add another explanation. “You know, for color.”
“Oh.”
“Before I scrape.”
“Oh.” She watched him stir a while longer. “Need any help?”
“If you don’t mind, why don’t you get the—ah—the scraper.”
“The what?” She looked puzzled. “You mean the wire brush?”
“Right. The wire brush.”
“You’ve never scraped off old paint before, have you, Zach?”
“To tell you the truth, Al, no.”
She gave him a sunny smile. “I guess people don’t have to scrape old paint in California.” She skipped down the porch steps and disappeared into the garage. While she was gone, he wiped off the wooden stirring stick and pressed the lid back on the paint can. Al had just saved his reputation. His position here was precarious at best, and if Diana found out how much he didn’t know…
Several times during the morning he had considered telling her that he wasn’t particularly well-versed in home maintenance. But then the sultry look she had given him this morning would intrude on his good intentions. Somehow he’d work his way through the list of repair jobs. He’d watch some how-to videos on his laptop and maybe the hardware store would yield a comrade-in-arms.
“Here you go.” Allison handed him the wire brush.
“Thanks. The ladder’s set up, so I might as well begin with the second floor.”
She glanced apprehensively at the tall extension ladder propped against the side of the house. “It doesn’t look right.”
“What do you mean? A ladder’s a ladder.”
“The ladder looks okay, but I remember it being tilted more. It’s so straight up and down.”
Zach felt his patience waning. At least he knew how to position a ladder, didn’t he? “I’m sure it’s fine.” He put one sneakered foot on the bottom rung. The ladder rocked a little but not dangerously. He climbed until he was even with Allison’s bedroom window.
“Don’t look into my room!” she called from below him. “It’s a mess.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell your mother. I’m just the handyman, remember?”
“No you’re not. You’re a friend, too.”
“Why, thank you.” He steadied himself against the house and began scrubbing away at the flaking paint.
“Do you spend a lot of time at the beach in California?”
“Some, when I’m not working.”
“I wish I could go there sometime.” She sighed. “I’ve never seen the ocean. Atlantic or Pacific.”
“You’d love it. I can picture you playing in the surf, having a ball.”
“Oh, I know I would. But Laurie wouldn’t. She’d always be worried about her hair. Do you know that when we go to the pool she swims with her head out of the water, just like a dog, so she won’t get her precious hair wet?” She giggled at her own joke. “Just like a dog. I’ll have to tell her that.”
“Now, Al, don’t buy trouble. Maybe someday you’ll worry about your hair, too.”
“Ha! Why should I? She only fiddles with her hair because she’s boy-crazy. I think boys are stupid.”
Zach smiled. “You do?”
“Oh, I didn’t mean you. I meant boys. The ones in my grade are dumb. I’ll bet they’re smarter in California.”
“I doubt it,” he said, laughing. “I think teenagers are pretty much the same all over.”
“Well, I’m not a teenager yet. And from what I’ve seen of Laurie since she became one, you can have that teenager stuff. You should see her after she’s put on makeup. She’s over at Jenny’s right now, trying out eye shadow with sparkly junk in it. Yuck!”
“I hate to say it, Al, but most girls go through that.”
“Not me.”
“If you say so, but I wouldn’t—”
The sound of loud barking drowned out the rest of his sentence.
“Beethoven, leave that cat alone!” Allison yelled, chasing after the dog.
Zach stopped scraping and glanced down in amusement at the trio weaving a frantic pattern around the yard. Mrs. Eckstrom’s cat must have miscalculated and figured Beethoven was still tied up. Its gray stripes became a blur of motion as it cut left and right, searching for an escape route. Beethoven bounded right behind, barking gleefully, and Allison brought up the rear.
The cat leaped to the second rung of the ladder before Zach realized the animal’s intention, and as the feline scrambled upward, Beethoven pounced on the bottom rung. Zach felt the ladder sway and grabbed for the windowsill, but he was too late. He glimpsed Allison’s horrified expression as the ladder went over backward, and then he twisted his body and instinctively flung out his arms to break his fall.
Allison screamed his name just before the grassy yard rose to meet his outstretched hands. A sharp pain shot through his right wrist, and then he rolled away from the metal ladder that clanged down beside him. He lay there, dazed, as Allison raced toward him.
“I’m gonna kill that dog! Mom! Come quick!”
Slowly he sat up as Allison crouched down beside him.
“Are you okay? Don’t move unless you feel okay. They taught us that in school. Oh, Zach, I’m so sorry.” Allison’s usual sparkle had disappeared. She looked close to tears. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have chased—”
“Hey, Al. No, it wasn’t. And I’m fine. See?” He started to push himself up from the ground but a searing pain in his right wrist made him grimace and he sat back down with a groan.
“No, you’re not!”
“Allison, Zach—what in God’s name—” Diana tore across the yard and dropped to her knees next to them.
He managed a weak grin. “Pretty good running for an old lady.”
“Very funny. Where do you hurt?”
He held up his wrist, which was already beginning to swell. “Something’s broken or sprained in there, I think.”
“Have you tried to walk?”
“No. I’ve only eliminated crawling so far.”
“You’re a real riot. Help me lift him up, Allison.�
�
“Diana, I can —”
“Be quiet, Zach. Take his other arm, Allison.”
As Diana crouched beside him and put one arm around his torso, he stopped objecting to her help. Her violet scent wafted around him, while the softness of her breast pressed against his rib cage as she and Allison guided him upright. He automatically tightened his grip on Diana and gasped as another pain shot through his wrist.
“Do your legs hurt?” she asked.
“No. Still just my wrist.” But the rest of me feels wonderful, snuggled next to you like this. Doesn’t Allison have somewhere else to go?
“Hold him up on your side, Allison. Let’s walk him up and down the yard.”
Allison giggled. “Mom, you make Zach sound like Beethoven.”
“That’s okay,” Zach said, as he relished the lush ripeness of Diana’s body brushing against his side. “Beethoven has a pretty good life. Plenty of food and lots of fondling.”
Diana glanced up at him from beneath her dark lashes. “He’s also penned up in the yard a lot.”
“Yes, but where does he sleep?”
“He sleeps in Mom’s room,” Allison answered. “He’s a terrific watchdog.”
“Then I’d better make friends with Beethoven,” Zach commented dryly.
“Oh, he likes you already,” Allison said.
“That’s good.” Zach chuckled. Was he imagining it, or could he feel Diana’s accelerated heartbeat? The points where their bodies touched were becoming exceedingly warm, and he didn’t think that was all due to the Illinois weather.
Gradually, to his regret, she eased away from him, “Okay, I’m convinced you can walk, so let’s drive to the Urgent Care and have your wrist X-rayed.”
“Diana, I can’t afford to —”
“I have insurance to cover it. And even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t let you take chances with a possible broken wrist.”
“Can I go, Mom? I want to make sure Zach’s all right.”
“I’d rather you stayed here, so you can explain things to Laurie when she comes home. If nobody’s here, and the note says were at the clinic…well, you know.”
“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
“Wait here, Zach. I’ll get some ice in a bag and my keys. And I’d better tell Susie that’s the end of her piano lesson for today.”
The Fix-It Man Page 5