by Loree Lough
Laughing, Simon paid for the cake as Hannah entered the shop, her broad, merry face alight with mischief. “I hope you left some ice cream for other customers, Levi Gunden.”
“Yes, Mama,” he said, standing to hug her. “Did you deliver your quilt?”
“I did,” she said, bending to kiss the top of his head.
Levi cupped a palm beside his mouth and whispered to Simon, “She makes quilts for all of Lancaster County but will not sew one for my bed. Now, what do you think of that?”
“He thinks,” Hannah said in Simon’s stead, “that you are plenty warm enough without one!” And without skipping a beat, she took her son’s hand and led him to the door. “Thank you for minding him, Julia.”
“My pleasure,” she said. “Did William find my envelope?”
Hannah nodded. “He did. We are so grateful for all your hard work. Come see us soon to get your money, and I will feed you well!” And with a smile and a wave, the Gundens were gone.
Julia gathered the used napkins and tossed them into a nearby trash can. After picking up her purse, she headed for the door. “After you, pretty lady,” Simon said, holding it open.
Had Hannah’s invitation made her blush? Or was it his simple gesture that inspired it? All Simon knew was that the heightened pink in her cheeks only made her eyes look even bigger and more golden. “So where are you parked?” he asked as she passed by.
“Up the street,” she said, heading for the intersection.
“It’s a nice day, so I can’t say as I blame you. Mind if I walk with you?”
It seemed to Simon that she’d hesitated just a bit, so relief surged through him when she said, “That’d be right nice.”
“‘Right nice’?” He chuckled. “I didn’t know you were from the South.”
“I’m not, but one of my foster families was.”
One of her foster families? Another reminder that she’d lived a hard life. Julia’s quickened pace, together with the frown etched on her face, made it clear that she regretted having let the fact slip. “Got a court case this afternoon?”
“Deposition,” she said, digging in her purse. “By phone, no less. I hate those.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’ve never been a fan of any conversation where I can’t look somebody in the eye.” She looked up at him just long enough to add, “And in a legal proceeding? It’s imperative.” Julia withdrew an overloaded key ring. “So where are you headed? Back to the clinic?”
“Yeah.” And raising the cake box a tad, he said, “And then it’s off to dinner at Casey’s.”
“Casey?”
“My cousin. His little girl turns four next weekend, and since I can’t make it to her birthday party, his wife invited me to a pre-party of sorts.”
“That sounds nice. I’m sure you’ll have—”
“Hey, you wouldn’t have time to help me pick out a little present for Cassie, would you?” Simon didn’t want to say goodbye to Julia just yet. Be honest, ya big goof, he thought, you don’t want to say goodbye at all. “I don’t have a clue when it comes to gifts for little girls. Big girls, either, for that matter,” he added, laughing. “But she’s such a special kid. I’d hate to disappoint her.”
“I’m sure whatever you bring will be just fine.”
“You don’t have time, then….”
Julia glanced at her watch, setting her keys to jangling. “Well, I have a half hour or so before—”
“That’s rough on your ignition, you know.”
When she looked at him like that, all wide-eyed and innocent, he could just kiss the stuffing out of her. But Simon resisted the urge and pointed at the key ring instead. “All that weight can damage the ignition cylinder. See…the keys dangle and bobble back and forth as you drive, and the stuff inside the switch is made up of plastic. So, in time, the parts can wear out.”
Julia wrinkled her nose. “I thought that was a myth.”
“So did I…till I learned better—the hard way.”
Shrugging, she palmed the keys. “Guess I could get rid of a few of these. Truth is, I don’t remember what half of them open.”
A wistful, faraway expression settled over her face as he realized that her car was parked just across the street. If he didn’t get her to agree soon to help him shop for Cassie’s gift, he’d have to say goodbye. “So what do you say…?”
“Okay, I—”
“Terrific!” he all but shouted.
“Easy, big fella,” she said, giggling. “If a few keys, more or less, makes that much difference to you, well, you need to get out more!”
“No, no,” he said, stepping out in front of her. “I didn’t mean the keys. You absolutely ought to lighten that load, but what I meant was, what do you say to helping me pick a present for Cassie?”
At first, Julia seemed a tad perturbed that he’d blocked her path. Then she tucked in one corner of her mouth, making that adorable dimple of hers appear like magic, and blinked up at him. Why hadn’t he noticed before that a collection of freckles dotted her nose and cheeks? He’d been close enough to kiss her that night in his living room….And why hadn’t he seen the blue and green flecks that gleamed in her tawny eyes?
“As I was saying,” she overpronounced, “I’ve got about a half hour.”
“You’re a lifesaver!” This time he didn’t fight the urge to give her a big one-armed hug. When he felt her stiffen, a twinge of longing pulsed in Simon’s heart. Difficult as it was, he turned her loose. “So which shop do you recommend?”
She took a deep breath and licked her lips, making him wish he’d thrown caution to the wind and kissed her while he had her close.
“She’s four, you say?”
The best he could come up with was a slow nod. It had been a long, long time since he’d felt this way about a woman—so long that Simon didn’t quite know what to make of the flood of emotions rumbling inside him.
“How much do you want to spend?”
He heard himself say “Money’s no object” in a far-off voice he didn’t recognize as his own.
“Have you been to Zooks’?”
“They sell toys? I thought they just carried crafts and hex signs and stuff like that.”
“I saw the cutest little doll in there last time I went in.” Julia commenced walking again and headed up the street. “She’s dressed like a little Amish girl,” she chattered over her shoulder, “pretty blue dress, high black boots, one of those long-brimmed caps, and the tiniest black-button eyes.”
“If she looks half as good as you make her sound, Cassie will be cuddling her tonight.”
They spent a few moments browsing in the store before she locked her sights on the doll she’d described. “Here she is!” Julia announced. “Isn’t she just the most precious thing you’ve ever seen?”
Simon pocketed both hands and shrugged.
“Oh, pardon me, Mr. Macho,” she teased, giving him a playful shove. “I should’ve known better than to foist a sissy word like ‘precious’ on a big strapping man like yourself.”
“I’ll admit, it isn’t exactly part of my regular vocabulary.” But it could be, he thought, if it promised to bring out the sparkle in her face that way. Simon wanted to say more but held back. If he didn’t want to mess things up, he’d better watch his p’s and q’s and figure out how to read the precious woman who stood before him.
“They do a beautiful job with wrapping,” he heard her say.
“Huh?”
“You know,” she said, pointing at the doll, “for Cassie’s present?”
“Oh. Gift-wrapping,” he echoed. “Yeah. Guess I’d better get them to do it. Last time I tried, the package turned out looking like something a baby chimp had done—with his toes.”
She treated him to another peal of pleasant laughter. “Well,” she said, “now that you’ve got your gift, I’ll be on my way.” As she neared the door, Julia stopped at a rotating card rack and, after looking at the options, chose a card and handed it t
o him.
Simon glanced at the pink-hazed cover: the back shot of a tutu-clad little girl posing before a tall, gilded mirror. Just last week, when he’d stopped by on his way home from work, Cassie had been on the front lawn practicing dance moves. “Look, Simon!” she’d crowed. “I can do an arabesque penchee. Mrs. Marketa will be so proud!” He’d rewarded her with a big hug and a kiss to the cheek, and she’d returned his affections with equal fervor. He grinned a bit at the memory. It surprised him that he’d remembered the name of the ballet move. Even more surprising was how much she resembled the little girl on the card. Simon opened it, hoping the verse would be half as perfect as the cover. “Aw, rats,” he said, frowning. “It’s blank inside.”
“Precisely. So you can write something in it that tells her what she means to you. She’ll love it.”
“Really? She’s only four….”
Julia’s ponytail danced as she nodded. “Girls are born sensitive,” she said, smiling. “Trust me. Cassie will put that card in her keepsake box and save it forever.”
“Keepsake box?”
“I never had one, of course, but I always wished I did. It’s something every little girl wants.”
“But…what if she doesn’t have a—”
Julia walked halfway across the shop and came back a few seconds later holding what looked to Simon like a cigar box wrapped in padded pink satin and embellished with shimmering pearls that spelled out MY SECRET TREASURES. When she put it on the counter beside the doll, he teased, “You’re gettin’ mighty good at spending my money, pretty lady.”
For a moment, he feared he’d overstepped his bounds and said something to rile her or hurt her feelings, because her big eyes got bigger as those perfectly arched brows rose higher on her forehead.
“Oh, please.” She patted his hand. “Haven’t you heard?”
Less than a second ticked silently by as he watched her smile widen.
“‘You can’t take it with you,’” they quoted together.
Julia gave his hand a final pat and headed for the door. “Have a good time tonight,” she said. “Be sure to take pictures—lots of them—so I can see Cassie’s reaction to the doll. And the keepsake box.”
Before he could respond, the cashier started ringing up his order; and when he turned around again, Julia was long gone. If she’d stayed, he would have asked her to join him tonight. Casey and Joanna had spent the past two years trying to find the Miss Right that would suit him. If he’d been a betting man, Simon would’ve bet the clinic that the pair of them would welcome Julia with open arms even if they hadn’t chosen her themselves.
Maybe he could catch up to her before she disappeared with her car.
Maybe he’d drive to Lancaster and, using the business card she’d given him, find her office.
Maybe he’d march right up to her desk and tell her how much he wanted Casey and his family to meet her—tonight.
And maybe he’d better retreat, pray harder, think things through.
“Way to go, General Pemberton,” he muttered, putting the gifts and the cake onto the pickup truck’s backseat. And as he fired up the motor, Simon added, “Good thing Casey doesn’t live in Vicksburg.”
Chapter Ten
Julia couldn’t wait to get home, kick off her shoes, and settle on the porch with a nice cup of herbal tea. Like Gretel from the fairy tale, she’d left a trail through the house with her purse, shoes, and jacket. And like Scarlett O’Hara, she’d worry about the mess tomorrow.
She loved the changing seasons and appreciated each for its particular traits. Springtime had always been her favorite. As the trees grew full and lush, new life flooded the world with buds and blossoms, baby birds and bunnies. It was a happy season, ripe with promise and hope. But summertime? Life seemed to move more slowly as temperatures soared, and the season’s laid-back, easy pace was hard not to like.
Smiling to herself, Julia snuggled into the cushions of the Adirondack chair after dinner and rested her stockinged feet on its matching footstool. Never in a million years would she have thought, one short year ago, that she’d have a home of her own, one filled with antiques and mementos that evoked beautiful memories. Soon, she’d sit in this same spot, warmed by Granny’s crocheted afghan as she stared out at the inky, star-studded sky.
How much nicer it would be, she thought, to have a cat that would purr in my lap or a dog to curl up at my feet. Or both! She’d meticulously avoided pets because moving from one foster-care home to another had taught her how painful saying goodbye could be. There were no goodbyes in her future. She loved this house and Paradise and everybody in it and had no intention of leaving, ever. Maybe this weekend she’d pay a visit to Simon’s clinic to have a look at the animals that were up for adoption.
Golden lamplight, filtering through the dining room window, illuminated the white-painted porch. The tall shadows of potted houseplants stretched across the floorboards, spilled down the wooden stairs, and puddled on the flagstone walk. Her gaze followed the path from its origin at the bottom step to the quaint little toolshed Gramps had built so long ago. Back then, it had been the playhouse where Julia had hosted tea parties with stuffed bears and doll babies, where she’d played games of hide-and-seek with Granny and napped on hot summer afternoons.
The faint scent of newly-opened roses wafted to her on the soft breeze. Soon they’d put her limited gardening skills to the test. She’d learned a lot, working beside Granny all those years ago. Years of neglect hadn’t been kind to the gardens, but Julia felt a certain kinship with the plants that had been her grandmother’s pride and joy. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath of sweet night air.
“I wish I had a camera….”
The pleasant baritone startled her, but only a little. “Simon,” she said, sitting up straighter. “What are you doing here?”
One foot on the flagstone, the other on the bottom step, he shrugged one shoulder. “I was just in the neighborhood and thought maybe you’d like a slice of Cassie’s cake.” He climbed onto the porch and stood in the beams of lamplight. “Joanna wouldn’t let me leave the leftovers. She’s on a no-sugar campaign with the kids.”
“Except for birthdays and special occasions,” Julia put in. And as he nodded, she added, “That’s a lovely name…Joanna.”
“She’s a lovely woman. You’re gonna like each other.”
Julia didn’t quite know what to make of that. When a man brought a woman home to meet his family, didn’t it mean he—
“Stay put,” he interrupted, hand in the air. “I know where things are. I’ll hack us both a slab of cake and deliver it before you can say ‘good idea!
She climbed out of the chair. “I need a refill on my tea, anyway, so I’ll join you.”
“I did what you asked,” he said, flipping on the overhead light.
Julia shook off the unhappy thoughts. “What’s that?”
He slid two plates from the cupboard. “Pictures,” Simon said, opening the cake box, “lots of them. On my digital camera.”
“I can’t wait to see your cousin and his family,” she admitted.
Simon had just lifted the cake from its box and put it onto a platter. Rinsing frosting from his fingers, he said, “No time like the present!” Then, after drying his hands on a blue-and-white-checked towel, he pulled the camera from his shirt pocket and stepped up close.
She felt as small as a child, standing in white-socked feet beside him. He leaned down a bit and squinted at the little screen as he worked to bring the photos into view. Julia heard the sounds of his starched white shirt crinkling beside her ear. Inhaled the slight trace of his woodsy aftershave. Felt the subtle warmth emanating from his muscular arm.
Not so long ago, that arm had draped across her shoulders in an attempt to fend off the night’s chill air. She remembered it as well as if it had been an hour ago, and the memory made her heartbeat quicken.
“That’s Cassie,” he said, pointing, “after seeing her dolly.” Chuckling, Simon add
ed, “I thought she’d lose her voice, the way she squealed.”
“Oh, Simon,” Julia sighed, “she’s a beautiful child.”
“That’s her baby brother there,” he said, scrolling to the next frame. “Josh. And Casey with Joanna.”
“Such a lovely family. And I love the way the kids’ names start with one parent’s initials.”
“Huh.” Simon took a half step back and looked into her eyes. “I hadn’t even noticed.” He winked. “Guess it’s that ‘women are sensitive’ thing you were talking about at Zooks’ gift shop?” He didn’t wait for her to comment. Instead, Simon leaned in and showed her the rest of the pictures. “I’m nuts about those kids,” he admitted as he put the camera on her table.
Had she imagined it, or did Simon hold back from saying “I can’t wait to have a couple of my own”?
“You must’ve had a hard day,” he said, plopping cake onto the plates.
Julia refilled her mug, filled a second with steaming water, and added a tea bag to each. “What makes you say that?”
One big shoulder rose in a half shrug. “Oh, I dunno…maybe ’cause you seem quiet and subdued tonight.”
“No harder than usual.”
“Well, then,” he said, leading the way to the back porch, “it’s my professional opinion that you’re suffering from fever.” Simon waited until she’d walked through the door then added, “And I’ve got just the medicine for that.”
She returned to her chair as Simon leaned against the porch railing. “Is that so?”
“Mmm-hmm,” he said around a mouth full of cake. “Bicycles.”
“Bicycles!”
“Nothin’ cures fever better than a long ride in the woods.” He speared another piece of cake. “We could go this weekend. Stop on the banks of the Pequea for a picnic of fried chicken, lemonade, apple pie. My treat.”
She’d intended to ask him about adopting a cat or dog—and wanted to get the flower beds ready for planting. That, added to routine household chores, would leave little time for a daylong bike ride and picnic….
“Something tells me you already have plans.”