He made an impatient gesture. "If you want to bring them up here, I can wash them with our clothes."
Sarah glanced at Katie, who was methodically pulling every toy from the basket near the fireplace, then back at Daniel, and shook her head. "No. You've provided the wood for my fireplace, you repaired my porch, you feed me lunch every day of the week. No more charity, Daniel."
He was glad she'd mentioned the firewood. He needed to check and make sure there was enough. Scowling at her, he pointed out, "You can't have enough laundry to make a difference."
She simply shook her head again.
Insisting that she accept his offer would only injure her pride and lead to a fight, he realized, so he did the next best thing. "Let's make a deal. You do Katie's laundry … and wash yours with it."
Tilting her head to one side, she considered it. "What about yours?"
His voice was gruff again. "I'll wash my own clothes."
"You can't have enough to make a difference," she mimicked. "All or nothing, Daniel."
He started to argue but remembered her pride. "All right."
"Then I'll accept your offer." Solemnly she stuck out her hand. When he grudgingly took it, she stepped forward and kissed his cheek. Sealed with a kiss. She could take a great deal of pleasure, she thought as she watched him go, in closing all her agreements with Daniel that way.
October 16
Tuesday was the half way point for Sarah. She'd been in Sweetwater sixteen days, and there were sixteen days left until the first. Until Katie came to live with her.
What a difference that would make in her life, she thought as she watched her daughter play with the wooden animals Daniel had made for her. It would mean finding a job and a new place to live, something she had to do pretty soon. It would mean being totally responsible for her daughter once more, doing everything that Daniel had done for the past eleven and a half months. It would mean being whole again.
She longed for that day with all her heart … and dreaded it just as much. Because it would also mean not seeing so much of Daniel.
She had come here knowing that she would like him, because she had liked him in Nashville. She had come knowing that she both admired and respected him. But she certainly hadn't come expecting to fall in love with him. And although she wasn't sure, she thought that was exactly what was happening.
She tried to remember falling in love with Brent, but her mind refused to cooperate. How could she call up memories of Brent, whose only asset was his handsome face, when Daniel, who had every quality a woman could want in a man except a handsome face, was working across the room?
The problem was, Daniel didn't want to fall in love, not with anyone. Certainly not with her. He'd made that clear enough in their time together. She knew that he needed a woman, but a lot of good that knowledge did her when he didn't want one.
She didn't want any more pain, didn't want any more broken dreams or heartache. The wise thing would be to pull back now, before she fell any deeper. Maybe she could do that if Katie weren't involved, but for the next sixteen days, avoiding Daniel would mean avoiding Katie.
Maybe her heart would somehow protect itself. Maybe he would change his mind. Maybe…
She sighed wearily. She had never imagined two years ago that spending the weekend with the big, quiet man from the mountains could have such far-reaching effects. Maybe, if she ever ventured close to another man again, maybe this time she would take protective measures—to save her body, her heart and her soul.
October 18
Daniel made a welcome change in their usual routine on Thursday when, shortly after Sarah arrived at the house, they climbed into his truck for the long drive into town. The reason he gave her for the trip was simple: he had to pay a few bills and pick up a special order from the hardware store. His other reason he kept to himself: he thought Sarah could use a break from the isolation of the mountaintop.
It was a beautiful day—the sky a rich blue with thick cottony clouds, the sun bright and warm and soothing, the trees glorious in their fall colors. Sarah admired everything she saw, wondering as she did why she'd never been able to find this kind of beauty to share with Tony. Had she been so obsessed with his illness and the struggle to keep them going that she'd failed to show him the pleasure in simple things like a warm sun or a crimson-leaved tree?
She had, she was afraid. But she wouldn't make that mistake with Katie. She would be the best mother a child could want. Then, with a glance at Daniel, she corrected her silent vow; she would be the best mother any father could want for his daughter. She wouldn't disappoint either of them.
Daniel parked down the street from the hardware store and turned off the engine. For a moment he just sat there before turning to face Sarah. "No one in town but Zach knows anything about you," he said flatly.
Sarah paused in the act of unfastening Katie's seat belt. He meant that he'd told no one about Katie's mother—who she was, where he'd met her, what their relationship was. Showing up like this, the three of them together, would give the gossips a field day. "So they'll wonder who I am."
"One look at you and Katie and they'll know who you are. She looks just like you."
Katie began wriggling free of the loosened belt, drawing Sarah's attention back to her. She unfastened the last buckle, but didn't pick the child up. "Are you ashamed of me, Daniel?" she asked, her voice low and uneven with hurt.
He smiled. If the situation was reversed and she was about to make an unofficial announcement to all her friends and neighbors that he was the father of her child, he would expect some shame on her part. Her friends' reaction to him would be no different from that of the redheaded lawyer—unpleasant surprise, dismay, dislike, maybe even a little fear. But the situation wasn't reversed, and he wasn't expecting any adverse reactions from his neighbors and acquaintances. He just wanted her to be prepared for the looks and the hushed whispers.
He reached for her hand and squeezed it lightly. "No, I'm not ashamed of you," he assured her. "It's just … people are going to talk. When your lawyer brought Katie here to live with me, everyone was dying of curiosity about you, but no one had the courage to ask. After they see how pretty you are, they're going to be nosier than ever."
As soon as the last word was out, he grew strangely silent. Had he really taken her hand so easily, complimented her so casually? True, he had only said what he'd thought all along but had never risked saying aloud. Still…
He let go of her and picked up Katie instead. "Are you ready?"
Sarah nodded. After everything she'd been through in the past three years, curious stares from complete strangers couldn't affect her. Hushed whispers and lingering second glances wouldn't bother her.
The first people they met were two old men sitting on the bench in front of the hardware store. They were dressed the same, in heavy boots and denim overalls and heavy jackets, with identical caps reading Weaver's Feed and Grain. Sarah recognized one of them as Leon Peters, her landlord, seventy years old and slower than molasses, according to Daniel. The other man looked about the same age.
In the city they could have walked past the two men without a word, but not in Sweetwater, Daniel thought with regret. In the city no one would know what kind of relationship he and Sarah had had two years ago, and no one would care. Sometimes he wished for that kind of anonymity.
Sarah said hello to Leon Peters, then Daniel introduced her to Henry Walters. The old man's faded blue eyes studied first her, then Katie, then Daniel. Although he didn't say a word, he seemed satisfied with what he saw. She resisted the urge to confirm it for him. Yes, she wanted to say, Daniel and I were lovers, and Katie is our daughter, and if I'm lucky, maybe we'll be lovers again. But she said nothing.
"Saw you two in the park last week," Leon remarked, sounding as old and worn out as he looked.
The day that Sarah had kissed him, Daniel remembered.
"That must have been … Tuesday, I reckon."
Leon might be old, Daniel thoug
ht uneasily, but his mind was as sharp as ever.
"Looked like you was old friends," the man continued.
Sarah saw the discomfort on Daniel's face and stepped into the one-sided conversation. "We are old friends, Mr. Peters. Isn't it a beautiful day?"
"Yeah, that it is. Be getting cold soon, but not until we have our festival." He gestured to the square across the street. "They could use a little help from someone as strong as young Daniel."
Sarah glanced across the street, where a half dozen men were erecting wooden booths for the Harvest Festival. Although she wouldn't mind spending a little time in the park herself—there were children about Katie's size playing there—she wasn't about to volunteer Daniel for work. "I imagine they could. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Walters," she said brightly. "And nice seeing you again, Mr. Peters."
Daniel and Katie followed her into the store. "Young Daniel. Have they always called you that?" she asked as she looked around. "Or was there an old Daniel at one time?"
"Two of them—my father and my grandfather. I'm named after them."
"So you'll be young Daniel until you have a young Daniel of your own."
His expression grew grim. "There won't be any other children." Having another baby would mean marriage. While he could never hold it against Katie that he and Sarah hadn't been married when she was born, he could make sure that it never happened that way again. And he'd already told Sarah that he didn't want a wife, so that meant no more children, either.
Her smile was sweet and innocent. "You just might be surprised, Daniel. Go on and pick up your things. I'll just have a look around."
Daniel talked to the clerk about his order, the weather and this weekend's festival while carefully deflecting the man's subtle questions about Sarah. His business completed, he held Katie in one arm, the box of porcelain and brass drawer pulls in the other, and turned to look for Sarah. He found her in the corner, examining a display of tools with idle curiosity, but before he could approach her, the door swung open and Zachary Adams walked in.
The lawyer, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, was obviously looking for Daniel, and he grinned when he saw him. "Hey, Daniel, Katie."
Katie smiled precociously. "Sach!" she squealed with delight, wriggling out of her father's arms and leaping toward the lawyer. Zachary caught her just as Daniel grabbed her legs. With a grimace, Daniel released her into his friend's embrace.
"Hey, sweetheart." Zachary nuzzled her, making her giggle, then looked at her father. "How are things going on the mountaintop?"
Daniel glanced toward the corner where Sarah had been, but there was no sign of her. "All right," he said cautiously.
"Have you been letting Sarah see Katie?"
His reply came from the girl herself, who laid her fingertips over his mouth. "Not Sair. Mama." She cupped her chubby hands over his cheeks and commanded, "Say 'Mama.'"
Zachary obliged her before turning his attention back to her father. "Listen, Daniel, have you changed your mind about your plans for…" His voice trailed away as Sarah came around the corner to stand beside Daniel.
Her smile was warm and friendly. "Hello, Mr. Adams."
"Miss Lawson." He sounded off balance, as if surprised by her presence. "Uh, listen, Daniel, if you're not in any hurry, why don't you come across to the square and help us with the booths for this weekend?"
Daniel was hesitant. He'd never taken part in the town's celebrations or its preparations. It wasn't that he minded the work, just that no one had ever bothered to ask him. He glanced down at Sarah, one brow raised questioningly.
"I noticed earlier that there were a couple of kids over there," she said softly. "Maybe Katie could play with them while you're working."
That was just the right thing to say to make him agree. Nearly three weeks ago he had promised to find his daughter some playmates, but so far he'd done nothing. Today he could. "Let me put this box in the truck first." He left the store, and the other three followed him, Katie perched on Zachary's shoulders.
"You two seem to be on pretty good terms," the lawyer remarked as they strolled, out of Daniel's earshot, along the uneven sidewalk.
"We're working on it."
"Keep one thing in mind, Sarah. In spite of his size and his looks, Daniel is a very…"
She slowly, evenly, met his eyes and finished his statement. "Sensitive man. He's a very gentle man. His life has been rough, and his relationships have been rough, too."
Zachary acknowledged her correctness with a nod. "I suppose it's occurred to you that there's an easy way out of this situation you're in. If two people want the same thing, the only logical solution is to share it—in this case, through marriage. Don't even consider using Daniel that way."
"Why the warning?" she asked curiously. "Only last week you helped convince him to let me see Katie. Today you're concerned about how I might use him. Why?"
Zachary hesitated before answering, trying to decide just how much would be saying too much. "Because today I saw the way he looks at you."
His statement left her quiet and thoughtful when they joined Daniel at the truck. She studied him for a moment, searching for some sign of what the lawyer had meant. Was there a new softness in his eyes when he looked at her? Was he smiling more often, more sweetly, than before? Or was her hope so strong that she was seeing things that weren't there? She didn't find any answers in his face.
It was a busy morning in the small park. In addition to the half dozen men working, there were two women and, playing around them, five children, the oldest one about five.
Daniel helped himself to tools from the bed of the pickup parked on the grass, then looked from the women on the benches to Sarah. "Will you be all right?"
She nodded.
"Watch out for the woman in the red sweater," Zachary advised as he handed Katie over. "She's got the sharpest tongue in Sweetwater County. Come on, I'll introduce you to them."
The woman named Linda seemed genuinely nice, Sarah thought, and aching to know about her and Daniel. Betsy, the one in the red sweater, was another matter. Even without Zachary's warning, she would have been wary of the other woman.
"So you're Katie's mother," Betsy announced less than ten minutes after they'd met.
Sarah was sitting on the ground, a suddenly shy Katie cradled in her lap. Linda had encouraged her to join the other children, but she was more comfortable watching from the safety of her mother's embrace. "Yes," Sarah replied evenly. "I am."
"Which means you had a … fling with Daniel Ryan."
Underneath Katie's small jacket, Sarah's hands clenched into fists. The woman made it sound dirty. There were so many ways to describe the weekend she and Daniel had shared, but they all made it sound dirty. Cheap. Meaningless. She wanted to tell her that it hadn't been that way. It had been special, important, precious, and Daniel was special, too. But she didn't say anything, just hugged Katie a little bit closer.
"Betsy!" Linda scolded. She smiled apologetically at Sarah. "Don't pay any attention to her. She's like this with everyone. How old is your little girl?"
"Fourteen months. Which ones are yours?" But she didn't need to ask. There were two little boys, ruggedly tussling on the ground, and a girl, maybe two years old, who wholeheartedly joined in. Then, across from them, were two prissy older girls, both dressed in dainty dresses, matching jackets and lace-edged socks, playing quietly. They had to be Betsy's children.
Linda confirmed her guess, then called her daughter over. "This is Melinda." She flushed as she said the name. "My husband insisted on naming her after me, and for two years I've been apologizing for it. I've got to get over that before I give her some sort of complex." She brushed a smudge of dirt from her daughter's face, tugged at the elastic-waist jeans she wore, then turned her towards Sarah. "Melinda, this is Miss Sarah, and that's her daughter, Katie. Why don't you see if Katie would like to play with your dolls?"
The girl, with a delicate ivory complexion and straight black hair, crouched in front of th
em, solemnly studying Katie. At last she reached out and touched Katie's soft curls. "Pretty baby."
Katie shoved her hand away. "Not baby. Katie."
Melinda offered one of her dolls, but Katie refused to take it. With a shrug, the older girl dropped it on the ground and returned to the fight with her brothers. Sarah echoed the shrug. "She's not used to other kids."
"Obviously not, living way out there in the middle of nowhere with no one but that—" Betsy caught herself, gave Sarah a condescending smile and finished, "With no one but her father. Not even her mother. Why is that, Sarah?"
She could brush the other woman off. She could ignore her. Or she could answer her. She politely responded, "That's really none of your business."
"Have you come to stay, or are you just visiting?" the woman persisted.
"That's enough, Betsy," Linda interrupted, her voice sharp, as if commanding one of her children. "I know you take pleasure in being so unpleasant, but not today."
Showing no sign of embarrassment, Betsy rose to her feet. "Come along, girls. We're going now."
Sarah turned to follow their progress. As she was turning back, her gaze met Daniel's. She knew he couldn't have overheard the conversation, but he still looked … concerned. Maybe Zachary's warning about Betsy's sharp tongue, coupled with her sudden departure, was enough for him to guess at what had been said. She smiled reassuringly at him before tuning back to Linda. "I'm sorry if I intruded here."
Linda's laugh was hearty. "Oh, no, don't be. I wasn't exactly thrilled when I got here today and found Betsy. You know, I've known her all my life, and I can't remember a time when she wasn't snooty and obnoxious. It's just gotten worse since her husband, Harold, was elected mayor in the last election." She scooted to the end of the bench. "Why don't you and Katie sit up here?"
Sarah leaned down to check on the child. She was curiously watching the other kids play but wasn't ready yet to join them. She might not reach that point this first time, Sarah knew, but she hoped that wouldn't be the case. She didn't want Daniel to worry if Katie wouldn't interact with the other children.
SOMEBODY'S BABY Page 12