The scene Abby described was the one Daniel had seen her set up in the window of the store.
"I wanted to give people a sense of coming home, of warmth. That's what we're all about." Abby sounded hesitant; as if she wasn't sure she'd done the right thing.
"Your ad sounds intriguing and that's exactly the effect to achieve. Make people want to stop here. I like it very much."
Daniel watched the color creep into her face.
Coming home. Daniel wondered what it would feel like to come home to Abby.
His gaze dropped to her mouth and he heard her say quickly, "I called the owner of the billboard. Sam Brite lives in Carbon Canyon and knows Gran. He said business is slow, so he'll see to it right away. We should have the ad in place by Tuesday."
And he could leave whenever he wanted to. She didn't say the words but they hung in the air between them. The smile left his face. He wasn't ready to leave yet.
"What time are we leaving for the play today?" It was the only thing he could think of to get her to spend some time with him.
Abby's head shot up and her face went bright red. "The play?"
Daniel watched her, enjoying the effect his question had on Abby's composure. "You...you wouldn't like it. I...It's an amateur group and...and...."
Her voice sounded strange. Hoarse, scratchy, desperate.
"I think we should give ourselves a chance to find out whether we like it or not. Some amateur groups are pretty good," Daniel said smoothly. "Besides, I've heard the old converted mill is a very interesting place. What time shall we leave?"
Abby scuffed the path with her shoe. Why hadn't Gran kept quiet about the tickets? The temptation to lie and say she had lost them tugged at her.
"Abby?"
Looking up, Abby knew she had lost. She had never been a good liar.
"Seven," she said slowly. "The play starts at seven thirty."
Daniel watched her hasty retreat.
Now that was smart thinking, Hawthorn.
The tiny amount of guilt he felt was quickly smothered. He agreed with Sarah. Sometimes only the results mattered.
"Never thought Abby would change her mind about going out with Daniel," Agnes stated after dinner that night.
"I didn't either," Sarah agreed. "I'm glad she told him about the tickets."
Hamish looked up from his crossword puzzle and said, "Leave them alone. It never pays to interfere in someone else's life."
Sarah and Agnes smiled at each other as Hamish went back to his paper. What did men know? If women didn't give matters a little nudge now and then, the world would come to a standstill.
Abby walked over to the guest house wishing she had never agreed to go out with Daniel Hawthorn. Her legs felt like clay and the rest of her quivered like the bowl of ice cream she had devoured before getting dressed.
She tapped lightly on his door. Maybe he had forgotten all about the play and fallen asleep. Maybe he had changed his mind about the evening. Maybe....
The door swung open and Abby's gaze riveted on the dark hair on Daniel's chest. Why hadn't he buttoned his shirt? Raising her gaze to his, Abby felt a quiver shoot through her. There was a storm brewing in his eyes.
"Abby, come in."
She walked into the guesthouse, overpowered by the clean, soap smell of him. His hair was still shower damp. The dark patches on his shirt testified to an impatient toweling of his body.
"You'll have to help me with my buttons."
The brusque request startled her. Abby raised her gaze to his as Daniel Hawthorn approached and extended an immaculate cuff. "I was in an accident a few years ago. My fingers can't cope with objects this small yet. Normally, I use studs in my shirt, but this seems to be the last clean shirt left in my closet, and it has buttons."
Abby stared at him, reminded of the gold cufflinks she had glimpsed at the seminar.
"What kind of an accident?" she asked, reminded of the scars on his hand.
Daniel Hawthorn's face became expressionless. "A car accident. Nerves in my hands were damaged, and I couldn't use them for a while."
"I'm sorry." Sorry she had asked. Sorry his hands were damaged.
The blanched look on her face, the softness in her voice made Daniel forget his usual reluctance to talk about the accident.
"I still get very impatient and frustrated when I can't do small tasks like buttoning my own shirt." Daniel couldn't explain the strange need to reassure Abby that his impatience wasn't directed at her. "In the beginning I couldn't use my computer, even sign my name to a document. I told myself it was a case of mind over matter and tried to force myself back to my normal routine. My hands got worse and my neurologist warned me I was doing myself more harm than good by refusing to accept my limitations. That's when I started conducting these seminars."
Abby stared at him. She could imagine how hard it must be for someone like Daniel not to be in complete control of his life. Those who rode with the punches life handed them escaped lightly. Others like Daniel, resisted them, and fared worse.
"It's hard to tell there's anything wrong with your hands."
"Abby?" His extended arm reminded her he was still waiting for help with his buttons.
Abby raised shaking fingers to perform the task for him. The button on his cuffs were easy, but the ones on the shirt front were tiny and stiff. As Abby worked her way upwards, Daniel's breath stirred her hair. Abby's shaking fingers brushed against skin and the soft cushion of hair on his chest as she went on to the next button. The contact almost made her stop breathing. "I'm sorry."
Her words seemed unnaturally loud in the room. Would he think she was deliberately teasing him? Abby felt Daniel stiffen. She bit down hard on her bottom lip. A fresh burst of nervousness made her fingers feel ten times as large and awkward as they normally were. A quick glance from under her lashes revealed a poker profile. It took twice as long to do the last two buttons.
Daniel watched the stole slip from her shoulders and slide to the floor. Her raised hands made her breasts thrust against the lacy, high necked blouse she wore. With her silky skirt and boots, it covered every bit of her from head to toe. He got the faint whiff of her scent, saw the way she bit her lower lip in concentration as she buttoned his shirt.
Abby acted as if she were a novice breaking every rule in the convent by helping him with his shirt.
"Thank you." Daniel left the room and returned holding his tie and his jacket.
Abby noticed his shirt had been neatly tucked into his pants. As she watched him knot his tie, their gazes linked in the mirror. Breathing became an effort.
Daniel turned to her. Abby looked away quickly. Intuition warned her she had entered a danger zone.
Abby swallowed. The emotion inside her was pure, twenty four carat excitement. Heady, sizzling, strong.
"Abby?"
The sound of her name broke the spell.
"We don't want to be late," she said, picking up her stole from the floor. "I'll wait for you by your car."
Abby walked out quickly, almost afraid Daniel would stop her, notice that she was shaking like a leaf in the wind.
All evening Daniel kept his manner casual. Gradually he sensed Abby relax beside him and let out a silent breath of relief. He didn't want to lose the little ground he had gained earlier. For a few moments he'd felt Abby's barriers were down.
"Would you mind very much if we didn't go home right away, Abby?" he asked as they came out of the old Millhouse. "There's something I want to show you."
Abby's heart began to race. That line was one she was familiar with. A prelude to trouble.
Daniel seemed to take her silence for consent. "It's five minutes from here, and you won't have to get out of the car."
Abby forced herself to take a big, slow, breath. "All right."
Daniel took the road that wound to the top of Carbon Canyon. Abby's pounding heart confirmed her worst fears. The road led to a spot known as Lover's Leap. She should never have come. Daniel whizzed past it and fea
r became pure terror. There was nothing beyond except private homes.
Daniel turned off on a dirt road between two houses. Where the road came to an end, he stopped the car and turned to her.
"Look," Abby heard him say.
The lights of Carbon Canyon stretched out below them. Abby barely noticed the view. Her gaze fixed on Daniel, she reached for the door handle.
He had discovered this spot a few nights ago. Daniel liked driving up here at night, sitting and thinking. He lowered his window welcoming the night breeze that ruffled his hair. Something about the quality of Abby's silence made him turn toward her.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
Her tone made him switch on the interior light. Her fixed expression reminded him of a frightened rabbit. Daniel frowned. Abby wasn't merely nervous. She was terrified.
"What's wrong?" he repeated.
Abby simply shook her head. He put a hand out to reassure her and she shrank against the passenger door.
Daniel's brow cleared. He should have known what was bothering Abby.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"T...talk about what?" asked Abby, forcing the words through her stiff lips.
"The fact you're sitting next to me acting as if I'm a vampire and you're my next victim."
Abby took a deep breath and found herself choking on the confusion welling within her. "I...I'm not. It's just that this place makes me nervous. C...couples come up here."
So that was what was worrying her stiff. "Would it help if I told you, I have no intention of grabbing you? I brought you up here because I thought you would enjoy the view. Since I've discovered the spot, I come up here almost every night. It helps me relax."
Abby let go of the door handle, wishing she could vanish into thin air. "I...I see."
"What happened to you, Abby?"
She turned toward Daniel. "I...I don't know what you mean. Can we please go back now? I'm tired."
Daniel had always gone after what he wanted in life. Standing back now, giving in to Abby, was a first with him. Impatience gripped him. Knowing Abby was like a game of snakes and ladders. Every time he thought he'd made a little progress he slid back a whole lot.
"Is it the memory of your husband? Do you feel no one will ever take his place in your life?"
Abby stared at him. "My marriage was a failure before Rod died."
The minute the words were out she covered her mouth with her hand. Now why had she gone and blurted that out. It was the effect Daniel had on her.
My marriage was a failure. That cleared up so much. Abby's lack of confidence. Her nervousness around him. The insistence he should leave.
Putting a hand out, Daniel turned the key in the ignition. "You're quite safe with me, Abby. I've never forced myself on anybody and I don't intend to start now."
"I...I don't know what you mean."
"You do," said Daniel firmly. "The fear and unwillingness you exude is like a red light."
"A red l…light?"
"Yes," Daniel retorted firmly. "Even if I wanted to kiss you, the touch-me-not signals you put out would prevent me from doing so. I have never kissed a woman against her will and I don't intend to start now."
"Signals?" What on earth was he talking about?
"There are stages in establishing a relationship, just as there are stages in establishing a business. First a man and woman are aware of each other. Next they exchange subtle signals that they want to touch, hold, be more to each other. No stage evolves into another without these signals."
Where had he got his degree in the psychology of courtship?
As Daniel set the car in motion, Abby thought of what he had said. Most men don't proceed till they get a green signal from a woman. Abby hoped all the signals she put out were red. Bright red. She couldn't afford to be sending out any other kind.
Abby had the door open as soon as the car stopped. "Thank you," she said and fled into the house.
Daniel went through his pockets for the key to the guest house. His spurt of impatience had faded. He might have been angry under normal circumstances, but these weren't normal. The fear on Abby's face had been very real. Her marriage seemed to have bulldozed her faith in men.
Daniel put a hand up to his head just to make sure he really hadn't sprouted the horns Abby Silver saw whenever she looked at him.
Abby stared out of her bedroom window. She was too keyed up to sleep. Daniel's words relentlessly repeated themselves in her head. The hoots of the owls calling to each other failed to comfort her.
Tonight she couldn't take refuge in the soothing influence of old, familiar things. The new sensations flooding her mind and body drowned everything else.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Where's everybody?" Daniel asked entering the community room, Monday morning.
Hamish looked up from the piece of wood he was whittling in a corner of the community room. "Out."
The man would win a prize for Monosyllable King of the Year, thought Daniel.
"Abby said she would be in the store today." He had to see her. Since Saturday night, she'd made sure they were never alone.
"She's gone to visit a sick friend. Sarah and the others are at a swap meet clear across town," added Hamish.
As usual, business came last.
"Would anyone mind if I opened the store?" Daniel asked.
"Nope," said Hamish without lifting his head.
Daniel went into the store, unlocked the front door and turned the closed sign to open. His impatience, he had to admit, wasn't only due to the fact the store hadn't been opened. It was because Abby wasn't around. The word elusive could have been created just for her.
He moved around the store restlessly, fingering the finely crocheted lace tablecloths, the hand knitted sweaters, the silk jackets. He was thinking more of Abby than he was of the store these days. It was the first time in his life a person had overshadowed his work. He had to make sure Abby didn't sense that. If she guessed what was going on in his mind, she'd have him out of here before he could say a word. To justify being here, he'd have to come up with some more suggestions soon.
Daniel's forehead wrinkled in concentration as he tried to think of a way to help improve business. The merchandise was quality stuff. There had to be a way to move it quicker.
"What are you doing here?" Abby's flustered voice from the doorway made him turn around. She was wearing a grey dress with long sleeves that buttoned to her neck. On her, the color was stunning. Daniel looked at the tiny black buttons and wished he could reach out and unbutton the top five. Just enough to give him a glimpse of Abby's beautiful neck.
"Minding the store," he said more sharply than he intended.
"Oh! Had many customers?"
"Not one."
"Mondays are generally very slow. There's a giant swap meet in Carbon Canyon on Mondays. It lures most of our customers. Agnes and Gran usually buy the fabric and sewing supplies they need there. It is cheaper in bulk."
It also ensured they had plenty on hand to give away, Daniel knew.
Abby turned to leave.
"Where are you going?" Daniel asked quickly.
"To the house."
Hamish entered the store and said, "The chicken casseroles are ready. Should tide Fred Harper for a while."
"Thanks, Hamish," said Abby. "I'm going back right away. I won't be back for dinner."
"Take care," Hamish called after her.
Turning away, he looked surprised to see Daniel behind him.
"Is something going on at Fred Harper's that I should know about?"
Hamish picked up a piece of sandpaper and began to work on the bird he'd carved. "Fred Harper is ninety two and blind. His daughter has turned part of her house into an apartment for him. Once a month, Abby goes out to help Nan Harper clean the apartment and stock up Fred's freezer."
He should have guessed it would be something like this.
In the world Daniel came from, people hated giving anything, eve
n advice, away free. Abby's problem was that she couldn't stop giving. At this rate, Daniel knew, a year could go by and he wouldn't see much of her. He would have to come up with a better way of spending some time with her. Watching Hamish smooth the bird's neck, gave him an idea.
"May I join your wood whittling class?"
He'd heard Abby discuss the dog she was carving with Hamish, knew she was part of the class.
"Ever whittle before?"
Daniel shook his head, "Only experience of whittling I have is sharpening a pencil with the kitchen knife."
"Why do you want to join?"
This is one man you can't fool, Hawthorn.
"I've had a problem with my hands since a car accident," he explained. "I thought the whittling might improve the dexterity in my fingers."
"Might," came the grudging admission. "You can come to the class tonight."
"I'll be here," Daniel said.
Later that evening, Abby looked around the room. Why on earth had Daniel decided to join Hamish's class? No one else seemed to notice what a hard time Daniel was having with his knife. He wasn't even holding it right. Abby winced as it slipped out of his hand and fell on the floor. It wasn't like Hamish to ignore a new student.
"Sorry," Daniel said to no one in particular as he picked it up.
The knife fell twice more before Abby stood up and went over to him. Enough was enough.
He sensed her approach and looked up. She had changed her clothes. The silky shirt she wore with brown pants drew attention to her eyes. As their gazes met, Abby looked away. Daniel felt a tightening low in his stomach.
He stopped as he'd done every few minutes to flex his fingers and ease the cramping there.
"Do they hurt?"
For the first time since his accident he wasn't defensive about the state of his hands. "Yes."
Abby's eyes were warm with concern. "Maybe it's the way you're holding the knife. Try holding it the other way as if you're sharpening a pencil. Lay the blade flat against the wood and then move it slowly."
Daniel tried to do as Abby said but the knife bounced right out of his hand again.
The Old Fashioned Way (A Homespun Romance) Page 7