"Yep," Hank said, removing his hand. Fingerprint-shaped scorchmarks now undoubtedly graced her blouse. If not her skin. "Maddie's got three, including a baby. Why? You like kids?"
"She loves them," Jenna said with a smile as Blair gravitated toward the twerps, hesitating when they hurled themselves into the woman's arms. "She's been chomping at the bit to start babysitting, but most parents don't want someone younger than fourteen. Who's that?"
"Ivy Gardner, the town midwife. Used to be close friends with my mother…oh, hell. What's she doing here?"
"Who? Ivy?"
"No, the other one. Her daughter, Dawn. Damn." Trailing Ivy by several feet was a younger, thinner version of Ivy in a short, sleeveless yellow sheath and backless sandals, her thick, reddish-brown hair worn like her mother's in a braid that dipped well past her waist.
"Old flame?" Jenna said.
"What? Oh. No. Not mine, anyway. Well, not anybody's, technically. But she and Cal always had this weird kind of friendship, ever since they were kids. I think Cal might've even been sweet on her in high school, although nothing ever came of it. And it's not like he's been carrying a torch for her or anything."
"But…?"
"But whenever they show up in the same place at the same time, things get tense. And I thought she was supposed to be engaged or married or something?"
As they came closer, Jenna could tell the younger woman wasn't wearing any rings. And when they were introduced she could see in Dawn's dark-brown eyes that recently-screwed-over look. While Jenna couldn't relate personally, she'd been the ventee enough times over the years, when various girlfriends had lost boyfriends or lovers or husbands, to recognize the signs.
"Hank! Wondered when you were gonna get here!"
Jenna turned at the sound of the pleasant baritone as Dawn and Ivy continued on to the house. Her guess was the tall, mustached man and tiny, wiry, baby-toting woman in shorts and a halter top coming their way were Ryan and Maddie Logan. Welcomes and laughter and glad-you-could-comes burst around them like fireworks as both Blair and Jenna found themselves engulfed in hugs and Blair somehow ended up with the baby, a pudgy little thing with serious dark eyes and an onion-sprout tuft of dark-brown hair caught in a barrette on top of her head. After a minute or so, the men went off to do whatever men did at these things, Hank with the potato salad in tow, while Maddie led Blair and Jenna into the house and back into the kitchen. Like the other rooms Jenna had glimpsed as they'd trucked through, this, too, seemed to be in the throes of redecoration. Maddie's gaze followed Jenna's to the array of paint splotches adorning one wall, some of which were so bright, they vibrated.
"Ry and I can't seem to agree on a color," Maddie said in her sandpaper voice, grinning. "But then, if it's anything other than white, he gets nervous." The grin broadened, taking up most of her thin, almost boyish-looking face. Suddenly Jenna recognized Maddie as the woman who'd delivered the pies to Ruby's that first morning. "I figured if I threatened him with the lime green or the turquoise, I'd have a better chance of getting that pale yellow on the top left."
Jenna laughed, then said, "Okay, what can I do to help?"
"Not a blessed thing," Maddie said, buzzing around the kitchen, her gray eyes shining with delight under feathery gold-brown hair as she set glasses of iced tea in front of both of them. "Just sit and talk to me while I finish up the salad. This is just so exciting," she said to Blair with a warm, infectious laugh, reaching across the table to squeeze the girl's hand. "You're my first niece! Oh, shoot, Amy Rose—no, no, sugar!" Maddie reached over to extricate one of Blair's blouse buttons from the baby's slobbery mouth, which provoked a squeal of protest. "Well, I'm sorry, little bit, but those aren't for eating. Here, gnaw on this." She handed the baby a bottle of juice, then smiled at Blair, her hands on her hips. "You're real good with babies, aren't you?"
Amy Rose settled back with her juice in Blair's arms as if she'd known her cousin forever. Blair beamed. "I love them." Then she looked up at Maddie. "Where're the other kids?"
"Not in here, thank goodness," Maddie said, finally tending to the waiting salad. "Why don't you go on out and see if you can find 'em?"
Blair hauled the baby up onto her hip and was gone in a flash. Jenna chuckled. "You ever need a baby-sitter, she's your gal."
"Oh, yeah? That mean you two're planning to stay here in Haven?"
Jenna flushed. "Oh, no. Sorry. I mean, when Blair's here visiting her father. I can't…I'm not…"
"Why don't you grab those bags of rolls," Maddie said softly, rescuing Jenna from having to explain the unexplainable, "and I'll just get this—" biting her lip, she squatted slightly to get a good grip on the oversized salad bowl "—then we can head on out back and join the party." They'd no sooner set foot on the back porch than Maddie halted, bumping Jenna softly with her elbow. "Land, would you look at that?"
Jenna glanced over, but all she saw were the three brothers huddled around the grill, Cal tending to the hot dogs and hamburgers, the other two standing there with their arms folded, hanging on to their beers, having one of those conversations which don't require actual eye contact. "Look at what?"
"The three of 'em in the same place at the same time, that's what. Been a long time since that's happened. Especially with Hank. Especially on holidays." She sighed. "I got him here for Thanksgiving for all of twenty minutes. Christmas, we made it through a whole hour. But look at him, standing there and interacting with people like a normal human being. Lord, he's even smiling. Now what do you suppose caused that?"
"Gas?" Jenna said. Maddie let out a hoot of laughter which carried across the yard, snagging the men's attention. Ryan looked over and winked at his wife, who made a face at him. But Hank looked over as well, hooking Jenna's gaze in his own. Then, slowly, seductively, a grin spread across his face that made Jenna feel as woozy and disoriented as if she'd come off an amusement park ride.
Maddie glanced over at Jenna, one eyebrow raised. "Sure don't have to ask what caused that," she said, then toted the salad down to the picnic table.
* * *
Stuffed to the gills and feeling pretty mellow, Hank hooked a foot on the side porch's bottom step, watching Ryan in the porch swing, rocking the sleeping baby. "Well, well…if you don't look the picture of domestic bliss."
Ryan's grin tucked up underneath his moustache. "Best way in the world to get out of clean-up detail." The baby wriggled in her sleep and Ryan's hand shot to her back, coaxing her back to sleep, and a twinge of irritation pinged through Hank, that he'd missed this. That he'd never get to do this. Not with one of his own, at least. Grandbabies, maybe. But that was a long way off.
Speaking of babies, the sound of the kids' laughter a few feet away made Hank twist around. Blair was happily lording it over the kids and the dog, all of whom clearly worshipped the ground she walked on.
"It's going okay, I take it?" Ryan said. "With Blair?"
"Too early to call." Hank came up the stairs to sprawl in a wicker armchair. "Got off to kind of a rocky start."
"That's understandable."
"Yeah. I suppose it is." He folded his arms across his chest, telling himself he did not want a smoke. "She's a good kid, once you get past the attitude. And so damn smart it's scary. Sometimes she just cracks me up. When she's not confusing the hell out of me."
"Welcome to parenthood," Ryan said with a wry grin, then added, "You and Jenna work out the arrangements yet?"
"Not really. I suppose she'll go back with Jenna to D.C., go to school there, maybe spend holidays and vacations here?" He shrugged. "Nobody wants to disrupt her life any more than it already has been."
"It's a big adjustment," Ryan said gently. "For all of you. No sense rushing things."
"I don't intend to."
"I wasn't just talking about Blair."
Hank's heart knocked against his ribs. The past couple of days had been agonizing. All he could think about was Jenna's climbing up on the sofa and onto him to get that picture, the flash of triumph in he
r eyes and her laughter when she did, the feel of all that sweetness wrapped around him, just for a second. He'd plumb forgotten how good it felt to make another human being laugh. And he'd realized, as that particular human being sank onto the sofa with her prize, her skin all flushed and her hair floating every which way around her face, how much Jenna Stanton needed somebody to make her laugh.
And damned if Hank didn't want the job.
"Is it that obvious?"
Ryan let out a snort of laughter that startled the baby. "In the two hours since you've been here, Maddie counted sixteen times that you touched the woman in some fashion. And that was only when she was looking."
"She kept track?"
"Are you kidding? That's the most fun she's had since…" Ryan cleared his throat. "Never mind. So," he said quickly, "you got a case of the hots, or is this something more?"
Even a week ago, Hank would've been ticked that Ryan and Maddie were sticking their noses in where they didn't belong. Now he didn't even care. When had the wall around his heart he'd kept in such good repair these past two years begun to disintegrate, a wall built out of never agains and can'ts and won'ts? It still wasn't gone, not totally, but he could sure see out over it, now. And you know what? The view wasn't half bad.
"Anything says it can't be both?" he said, and Ryan let out another laugh.
"Who was it who was saying to me just a few months ago that a man's better off without a woman to mess up his life?"
Hank's mouth twisted. Yeah, he remembered that night, when he'd tangled with an ornery screwdriver and Ryan had stitched it up. "Must've been the anesthetic talking."
"Lidocaine doesn't affect the brain, bonehead."
"Wasn't talking about that kind of anesthetic."
After a moment, Ryan said, "So how's it feel? Not being numb anymore?"
Took another couple of moments for Hank to reply. "I never really was, you know? All I was doing was holding the pain in. Only thing is, you get so used to thinking you don't want something for so long…" He shrugged, not knowing how to end the sentence, counting on Ryan—who'd done some pretty good wall-tending of his own before Maddie'd come along and convinced him there was room in his crazy life for her and her kids—to understand.
Sure enough, Ryan nodded and said, "Oh, yeah. I know how that goes." Except then he added, "Sure would be convenient, you getting together with Jenna. For Blair's sake, I mean."
Another heart knock. Images of bungee-jumping flashed through Hank's mind—the potential thrill of soaring through the air like a bird, the potential disaster if the cord busted. "Convenient, hell. For one thing, her life is back east. Mine's here. For another, there's this little matter of her having said, point blank, she's not interested."
"In you?"
"In anybody."
Ryan adjusted the baby in his arms. "Because of her husband, you mean?"
"That would be my take on it."
"Hey. If you've changed your mind, so can she."
Is that what he'd done? Changed his mind? "Just like that, huh?"
"Didn't say it wouldn't take time. But if that gal's responsible for the look on your face I've seen today, you'd be an idiot not to go after her. If that's what you want."
"And that's your professional opinion?"
"Yep. You can leave twenty bucks on the hall table on your way out."
Hank stood, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looked out over the yard, watching Blair chase the kids, watching Cal and Ivy sitting in metal lawn chairs, chewing the fat. Normal stuff. Good stuff. Was he really ready for this again? Ready enough to court someone who was sure she wasn't?
"Y'know," Ryan said behind him, "before Michelle, you were never afraid to take risks." Hank turned to find sympathy in his brother's pale-blue eyes. "The past couple of years, though, it was like somebody'd sucked your soul out, leaving this husk in your place. I know it's been a while since we were close, but watching you today, I see glimpses of the brother I used to know. The one I missed."
"You must be kidding. I used to torment the hell out of you."
"Okay, so maybe I didn't miss that part," Ryan said with a smile. "But you never made fun of me for not being able to keep up when I was sick so much as a kid. And later you taught me how to work out and how to stand up for myself. And boy, did you come down hard on me whenever I was tempted to give up or take the easy way out. Hell, Hank…I wouldn't have had the guts to apply to med school if it hadn't been for you."
Hank waited out the funny feeling in his chest before he said, "You sure you still talking about me?"
"Uh-huh. Sorry to blow your rep as a badass."
One side of Hank's mouth quirked up. "Just don't let it get around, okay?"
"Deal. Long as you don't blow this second chance."
Hank glanced away, then back at his brother. "You really think I should go for it?"
"Oh, for crying out loud—you need to have your hearing checked or what? Hell, yes, you should go for it—"
"There you are," Maddie said, coming around from the front yard and up the porch steps, a little out of breath. "It's Elmer Forbes, asking if you were on duty tonight. I didn't have the heart to tell him you weren't, he says somebody set off a firecracker right under his living-room window and now his ears are ringing."
"You tell him to come over, I'll check him out?"
"Too late," she said, taking the baby from him and tucking her against her chest. "I already put him in the exam room."
With a soft chuckle, Ryan got up from the swing, watching his wife carry off the baby with a look on his face that sent a stab of pure, unadulterated envy through Hank. Before he went into the house and on back to his home office, Ryan said, "Don't do what I did, Hank. Don't be afraid of the 'might coulds' as Daddy used to say. When I think of all those months I lost that I could've been with Maddie, I could kick myself."
After Ryan left, Hank stayed put, his hands on his hips, mulling over his options. Then he happened to see Jenna headed around toward the front of the house, looking about as alone as he'd ever seen a human being look, and—just like that—his choice was made.
Chapter 12
Feeling overloaded—too much food, too many people, too many thoughts to deal with—Jenna wandered off from the main party, hoping to find a little peace out front.
Wrong.
Out by Ivy's truck, Cal Logan and Dawn Gardner were deep in a heated argument, their voices too low to overhear what they were saying—not that Jenna wanted to!—but their body language leaving no doubt as to the intensity of the their conversation. Leave, Jenna's conscience ordered. Now!
In a sec, she said back. Well, not said, but whatever. She had overhead Maddie and Ivy say something about Dawn's fiancé breaking off their engagement, that she'd come out here for the long weekend to get away from the heat in New York—which couldn't have been much worse than the heat here—and to get her head back on straight.
From Jenna's vantage point, it sure didn't look as though Cal was doing much to aid Dawn's recuperation process. My goodness, she hadn't seen male posturing like that since the last time she'd watched a Clint Eastwood movie—
Oh. Hmm. Dawn was in Cal's arms. Sobbing. And he was rocking her…
"Oh, hell," Hank said in a low voice behind her, making her jump a foot. "That's not good."
"Why not?" Jenna whispered back.
"It just isn't. She's on the rebound and he's always had a blind spot where she's concerned. She lit out of here for New York so fast after she graduated from high school she practically broke the sound barrier. She wouldn't move back here in a million years, and Cal's horse farm is his life. He'd never give it up."
"Geez. And they say women jump to conclusions. Maybe all he's doing is giving her a little comfort?"
"Uh-huh," Hank said, then slipped an arm around her waist to steer her away. "C'mon, Ryan's fixin' to set off some fireworks in a minute…what?" he added, when she unslipped herself.
"I really wish you wouldn't do that."
>
He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I really wish you'd make up your mind whether you liked me touching you or not."
"Liking it isn't the question," popped out before she could catch it. At his raised eyebrows, she pushed on as if doing so would erase her previous words. "And maybe if you'd stop pawing me, I wouldn't have to 'make up my mind,' as you put it."
"Fine. No problem. You don't want to be touched, I won't touch you."
Oh, hell. Now she felt like crying. Great. But seeing Cal and Dawn, watching Ryan and Maddie's easy, loving relationship all evening, had taken their toll. "Hank, I'm sorry I'm acting like a ditzy female, but that's the best I can do right now. I feel as though I'm being yanked in a thousand different directions and I'm not strong enough to resist any of them. And let me tell you, that is not comfortable."
He looked at her steadily for a long moment, then said, "So tell me something—is one of those directions toward me?"
Her entire body jerked. "And if I say yes?"
His single, deliberate step toward her, his gaze still fixed on hers, might have sent her heart rate through the roof had it not been for tentative smile barely curving his lips. "Are we still talkin' about sex?"
"I don't know anymore," she said, because she really didn't and no longer had the strength to figure any of it out, and his smile increased a notch.
"Well, now. Talk about your interesting turn of events."
Now her pulse went ballistic. Up until that minute, she hadn't realized just how much her own control had been dependent on Hank's reciprocal resistance. Not to sex—that had never been in doubt—but to something more. And judging from the look on his face, this was a man with serious Something More on his mind.
"That's not fair," she whispered, shaking her head. "You're not supposed to—"
"I know." Another step. "Wasn't planning on it. Then you had to go and make me start seeing things from a new perspective." Judging from the agonized expression in his dark eyes, this was no idle come-on. Small comfort. "Make me consider possibilities I would have never entertained even a month ago."
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