by Helen Conrad
She was glad to. Making the tapes had started out as a neat idea, but it was growing way beyond that. In fact, it was getting to be her obsession.
“The theory behind it all is that small children love to watch babies and other small children. Have you ever noticed how, when the TV is on and droning, the sound of a child’s voice coming from the screen will stop a toddler in his tracks and make him look up?”
Completely engrossed in her subject, she didn’t remember that she was talking to a man who hated children. But he didn’t seem to mind. He gazed at her with interest and nodded occasionally. And it was only later that she realized what she’d done.
“They love to watch,” she went on. “They learn and at the same time are entertained by watching other children. So I started taping the children at TylerTots and at the classes I help with at school. I began editing segments and showing them to children, testing them out.” Her eyes shone. “And so far, the response has been phenomenal. The kids are mesmerized.”
He still wasn’t completely clear on the way this worked. “And now you’re thinking of doing it for profit?” he guessed.
“I hope to,” she told him candidly. “I’m developing quite a library of these tapes. I’m organizing them by subjects, like a tape on children at holidays, and a tape on children trying to sleep, and a tape on children playing with animals.”
“Ouch. That could get rough on the animals.”
She laughed. “No, we were very careful. We watched them closely and didn’t let the animals get hurt—or even loved to death.” She smiled, remembering some close calls. “The tapes still need a lot of editing, and when I have enough, I’ll donate a whole set to TylerTots. There is still a lot of work to do before they’ll be just what I want them to be.” She hesitated, deciding not to tell him about Tony. After all, how far could she stretch her luck?
He was impressed with her, impressed with the way talking about her goals made her face come alive. Even the slightly smudged shadows under her eyes seemed to disappear.
“It’s giving a whole new direction to my life,” she noted, “and yet it’s grounded in the most important thing—my children.”
Ah, yes. Back to the children. He shifted in his seat and stared down into the dregs of his coffee. “Starting your own business is tough work,” he said musingly. “I tried it once.”
“Did you?” She searched his eyes, hearing a trace of regret in his voice. “What happened?”
“Well, let’s see,” he drawled, his eyes glinting with humor. “I had a ball, I worked my tail off and I lost my shirt.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, Mr. Cliché. Want to put that in plain English for me? What kind of business was it?”
He smiled. “A little coffeehouse, a lot like this. Only the jazz was played live, and the coffee tended more toward espresso.” He glanced around the room. “And the clientele was at least a generation older than this one.”
That surprised her. She hadn’t pegged him as a music lover. “Live jazz, huh?”
He nodded. “I used to play a little sax, and a little piano. I had a dream of having a place where real jazz musicians could play and get some attention.” His eyes grew smoky for a moment, as though memories were sifting in. “And for a while, it worked great. We had a really loyal following. Trouble is, you can’t make a very big profit on folks who nurse one cup of coffee all afternoon.”
“So you went broke?”
He grinned. “You do get right to the point, don’t you? Yes, I lost everything. The club, the house.”
And eventually a lot more than that.
His eyes looked haunted for a moment, and she moved on instinct, reaching out to take his hand in hers, giving comfort. He looked up, startled, but his fingers curled around hers and he didn’t let go.
“I think we should tell each other about our divorces,” she said suddenly, watching his eyes.
He groaned, leaning back and laughing. “Do we have to?”
She nodded, still buoyed by the rapport that seemed to exist between them. “Yes. Let’s do it now, get it over with quickly.”
His smile faded as he regarded her narrowly. “What if we lie?” he asked, his voice soft.
Cocking her head to the side, she studied him, wondering why he would say such a thing. “Why would we lie? Let’s tell the truth.”
Their gazes held for a long moment, as though that were a concept that needed more time to develop.
“You go first,” she said at last.
He hesitated, playing with his spoon for a moment. Finally he looked up and met her gaze.
“Okay, here goes. Shelley and I met in college. She was beautiful. I was gawky and immature. She taught me grace and manners, and I taught her how to ski. She slipped me into her dorm room, and I took her on geology field trips. We got married right after graduation. There weren’t many jobs for a guy with a botany degree and no skills, so I finally got into fire training and was a fire fighter for five years.”
A fire fighter. Yes, she could see him saving people, carrying women down ladders, rescuing cats from trees. She suppressed a smile. “Then you started your coffeehouse,” she guessed.
He nodded. “In the meantime we had two kids and my business went south and I got trained in arson investigating and we got divorced and here I am.”
“That was short and sweet,” she commented, slightly startled by some of what he’d said.
He shrugged, his eyes too veiled in the darkened room for her to read just what his emotions were at the moment. “It was short, anyway.”
“You have children,” she marveled.
His face closed down like a steel door clanging shut. “I don’t want to talk about that,” he warned, and she pulled back as though she’d been slapped.
There was definitely a problem here, she thought, glancing over at a couple who were dancing, but not really seeing them. Something had happened, something had poisoned him, and if she was going to stay here with him, she had to know what it was. Her own children were the most important things in her life. Her work involved kids. Children meant everything to her. She had to know.
Turning her gaze back to him, she lifted her chin and asked a difficult question. “Tell me why you don’t like children,” she said to him, holding her breath once the words were out.
He stared across the table at her. He knew exactly what she wanted to know, and why, but he also knew it wouldn’t do her any good to find out. Mentally, he shook his head. No. Let her think he didn’t like children. It was easier than trying to explain the truth.
“It would take too long,” he told her, managing a cool, casual look. “Ask me another.”
Very slowly, she shook her head, holding his gaze with her own. “No,” she said softly. “I have to know.”
His eyes shifted and something moved deep inside them, something chilling and defensive, but still she wouldn’t look away. “Okay,” he said at last, almost angrily. “But not now. It’s your turn. You haven’t talked about your own divorce.”
She sat back, feeling spent with the effort that had taken, but surprised and elated that she’d managed to get him to bend. That wasn’t the way she usually operated, but for some reason, she’d cared enough about this to see it through.
“All right,” she said breathlessly. “You’ve got a deal.” She looked down at her hands and immediately wondered what she’d gotten herself into. She never talked about her divorce, not to anyone. Everyone in town had been very considerate when she moved home. Few ever asked her any questions. She supposed they all talked about it behind her back, but she didn’t care about that. As long as she didn’t have to hear them do it, who cared?
But now she was going to have to do it herself. She swallowed hard and steeled herself. It was probably time she got it out into the open, time she said aloud some o
f the things she’d been thinking all this time.
“Okay,” she said softly, avoiding his gaze. “I met Alan when he came here to manage a local travel agency. He’d worked for the airlines and been all over the place, and he seemed sort of exotic and exciting at first. And when he asked me out, I was flattered.”
She stopped, a little surprised. This was something she hadn’t been remembering lately. Yes, she’d been excited when Alan had first shown interest. She’d been proud, too, because lots of girls had thought he was awfully interesting, and she’d been the one he chose. Despite what happened later, she couldn’t erase those months of feeling on top of the world. And why should she?
“We seemed so perfect together. He liked so many of the same things I liked and somehow...somehow I assumed he must want the same things I wanted.” She tried to smile and failed miserably. “He was transferred to Beloit, so we got married. Too soon. We didn’t really know each other well enough to take a step like that. And then I got pregnant too soon as well.”
“That’s not unusual.”
She jumped, startled by his voice, as though she’d forgotten Lee was there. She looked up at him, her eyes huge, as though asking him for something, but not sure what it was herself.
“No, it’s not unusual,” she said softly. “But I should have had more sense. Life doesn’t go the way you intend just because you want it to. You have to take care with your choices, and then maybe nudge it along a little.”
She tried to smile again, and when he smiled back, Glenna relaxed.
“I was so sure of where my life was going. But it seemed Alan found family life confining. He—he began to complain about children and to compare our life with a child to the old days when we had just been a couple, able to travel and go out to eat when we pleased. He started disappearing at night, and then he began going on business trips, and pretty soon they started lasting longer and longer.”
Her voice broke, just a little, and she swallowed hard again. This was going to be difficult to get through.
“Finally one day, right after Megan was born, he called me from California and told me he was taking a job there—and that we weren’t invited to join him.”
There. She’d done it. She’d gotten through it and she hadn’t started to cry. Looking at Lee, a feeling of pure triumph rolled through her soul. Alan, she thought. I’m over you. I don’t care anymore.
Lee seemed to understand. “Go on,” he said softly, urging her to get it all out once and for all.
“For months after he’d dumped me I—I sort of survived in a fog. I really wasn’t able to handle what was happening. I was going through the motions. I don’t think too many people realized how rough things were for me at that time. I kept up a front. But behind it all, I was...like a broken person.”
He nodded. He understood only too well.
“It was my love for my babies that pulled me through,” she said, and now her eyes did fill with tears. “It was because of what I owed to them that I managed to pull myself together and get back on track.”
“Do you want to dance?”
Dance? She looked at him, bewildered, then looked out at the dance floor. The music playing was a popular jazz standard and a few adult couples were out there, taking advantage of a melody they knew. But why would she want to dance?
She looked at him again and he held out his hand, his eyes soft as velvet, and suddenly she realized what he was doing. He didn’t know how to comfort her, but on the dance floor, he could take her in his arms and hold her in a way he couldn’t anywhere else. She smiled at him, her eyes still shimmering with moisture, and she took his hand he held out to her and rose with him.
She sank into his arms as though they welcomed her into a haven from all the cares of her life. The music was low and seductive, and he held her like a precious jewel. As they moved together, Glenna felt every doubt and every worry shrink and fall away like magic.
And just like magic, it seemed to go on and on. Her eyes were closed and she felt herself melt against him as though they were alone. The scent of his after-shave mixed with the smell of the coffee, and his hand spreading across her back made something fall away inside her, with a shiver.
She knew she was flirting with danger, but right now she didn’t care. She could feel the length of his thighs against her, feel how hard and muscular they were, and she thought she felt the beat of his heart. She pressed closer, feeling the heat rising from beneath his shirt, and suddenly she remembered the kiss and how everything had turned to silver, and she knew how it would be if they made love. Everything would turn to gold.
And still she didn’t pull away. It was too good, too smooth, too warm right where she was. She wanted to stay there forever, to let the dance go on and never stop, to hold him closer and closer....
He dropped a soft kiss on the top of her head, so light, so quick, she almost thought she’d dreamed it, but she could tell he was breathing in the scent of her hair, and that was when she knew she had to stop it.
Drawing back, she stared up into his eyes and slowly shook her head. “I have to go,” she said quickly, turning and heading back to the booth for her parka and her purse.
They’d driven the cars across the highway, so she didn’t have far to go. He followed her, shrugging into his jacket at the same time. He knew what she was afraid of. He was afraid of the same thing, and he didn’t try to stop her.
But just before she pulled away in her car, he leaned down and made her open the window. “Come with me to the ice pageant in Sugar Creek tomorrow night,” he said.
She felt panic racing through her. “Oh, Lee, I don’t know...”
He smiled at her, a big, warm, all-embracing smile. “Come with me,” he said again. “I promise not to dance.”
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. She loved the way he picked up on exactly what she was thinking.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll meet you at...” She thought quickly. “Pick me up at TylerTots at seven,” she suggested. Did he realize she hadn’t wanted him to come for her at the house? Probably. He realized everything.
“Okay,” he said. “Drive carefully.”
“I’m only going a few blocks,” she muttered as she closed the window and drove off. But his admonition warmed her.
“He is such a nice guy!” she wailed, and then she laughed loud and long.
It was only later that she remembered she had never gotten around to finding out why he didn’t like children. And that he still hadn’t come down with a definite suspect in the arson case, and until he did, she had serious worries along those lines.
And then she didn’t laugh anymore.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE EVENING MEAL at the Kelseys’ was usually a jolly time, full of lively conversation and happy faces. The one following Glenna’s dance with Lee was different. That night would be looked back upon by many for years to come as the night of the Big Food Fight.
It started ordinarily enough. Anna had made a delicious pork loin roast and Penny Barker, Frank Sims, an old family friend, boarder Bob Quentin and his visiting son-in-law, Gordy, had all come together with the Kelseys to enjoy it. Tisha and Drew were both out for the evening.
The talk revolved around the coming Christmas party at Timberlake Lodge and whether or not it would snow before New Year’s, and then Frank, a short, noisy man who reminded Glenna of a terrier, brought up the fire.
“The town’s ruined,” he proclaimed with a snort. “And I’ll tell you who ruined it. That fire investigator, that’s who.”
Conversation around the table faded away as all attention was turned to the man’s emphatic opinions.
“Oh, yeah?” Johnny replied good-naturedly, taking another biscuit and piling it generously with butter. “You think he set the fire, do you?”
Frank fairly growled a
t him. “No, I don’t think he set the fire. At least, we don’t have any indication that he was in town at the time. But I do think he set up the evidence to make it look like arson.”
Johnny grimaced, washing down a bite of biscuit with a long drink of water before turning to look quizzically at his friend. “Now tell me, Frank, why in the world would he do a thing like that?”
Frank seemed to quiver with indignation. “It’s a scam, Johnny. Can’t you see that?” He looked around the table belligerently. “Now what I’d like to know is, does he get paid more the worse it is? I mean—” his eyes narrowed “—is there an incentive for him to call it arson?”
Gordy worked for the fire department and considered himself something of an expert in these matters. “Now hold on, Mr. Sims,” he said a bit testily. “You’re making some pretty wild speculations here. It’s nothing like that.”
“Oh, yeah?” Frank replied. “What I want to know is, does he get a bonus from the insurance company? I’ll bet he does.”
Glenna was appalled at the way Frank was talking, and without thinking, she blurted, “Of course he doesn’t.”
Frank turned on her, scowling. “What do you know about it?”
Her eyes flashed. “I know he has too much integrity to falsify results for personal gain.”
“Too much integrity?” Frank gave a mocking laugh. “What do you know about it, little girl? How could you possibly know that?”
Penny Barker didn’t like the way he was talking to Glenna, and she glared at him. “She knows a lot more than you do,” she declared.
“I’ve talked to him about it,” Glenna said, defending herself.
The man looked at her scornfully. “Yeah, the whole town knows you’re dating him, and we all know that sort of thing blinds the mind,” he said. “Your opinion doesn’t count.”
Glenna gasped. “I am not—”