by Irene Hannon
“Good. We’ll expect you all then. We can meet at church, if that’s okay. We’ll save you a seat. Look for the redhead with the squalling baby.”
Rebecca grinned. “Okay.”
“And, Rebecca, one other thing.”
“Yes?”
“If this guy is even close to the way Henry describes him, go for it!”
Rebecca’s face flamed again. “Sam, I told you that—”
“I know, I know,” she interrupted. “But listen, kiddo. I’ve been there. I was into this let’s-be-friends-because-nothing-else-could-possibly-work-between-us mode for a long time with Brad. I fought the attraction as hard as I could, but fortunately your brother persevered. In the end I listened to my heart, and look where I am now? My version of paradise—at least as close as you can get on earth. All I’m saying is that if you’re interested, give it a chance. Don’t let fear hold you back.” She paused for a moment, and when she spoke again her tone was noticeably lighter. “Well, enough lecturing for one day. We’ll see you on Easter, okay?”
“Okay.”
As Rebecca slowly replaced the receiver, she thought about Sam’s words of advice. Rebecca was definitely interested. And she wasn’t hiding it very well, either, if her father had picked up on it so quickly. But her fear—that was something else again. How did one control something that was irrational, that had no basis in reality, that was an instinctive response? she cried in silent despair. But no answer was forthcoming. And until one did, the situation was hopeless.
“Pete? I’d like to see you for a minute.”
The boy looked at Zach defensively. “I turned in my homework.”
“I know. I want to talk to you about something else. Go ahead and sit down.”
Pete hovered uncertainly for a moment, then folded his long frame into a convenient desk, assuming his familiar slouch position. Zach waited until the last student exited, then shut the door and joined Pete, sitting down in the desk beside him. “I wanted to give you your paper back.”
He took the assignment out of a folder and held it out to Pete. A look of trepidation quickly swept over the boy’s eyes before being replaced by defensiveness. “I had to rush,” he protested, his chin jutting out defiantly. “I didn’t have a chance to—”
“Look at the paper, Pete,” Zach interrupted quietly.
Pete sullenly reached for the paper, his eyes widening in surprise when he glanced at it. “You gave me an A?” he asked incredulously, staring at Zach in amazement.
“You deserved it. Go ahead, read over my comments.” He settled back in his seat, waiting as Pete worked his way meticulously through the paper, carefully reading each of the constructive—and complimentary—remarks written in Zach’s scrawling hand. When he reached the last one, the teenager read it once, then again, before looking up speechlessly, his face flushed.
Zach leaned forward and folded his arms on the desk. “That is a fine piece of work. You should be proud of it. And it confirms what Phil Carr told me. You do have talent. Very great talent. And I don’t want to see it go to waste.” He opened the folder again and removed two items, handing them to Hank one at a time. “This is some information on a national short story contest that I think you ought to consider entering. There are monetary prizes involved, but even more important, it would look very impressive on a college application. It would also give you a chance to be published. And this is a brochure about a writing camp being held in Michigan this August. It’s for gifted writers, and I think you qualify. Look them both over, and we’ll talk about them next week.”
Pete stared in stunned silence at the brochures in his hands, then back at Zach. There was a new eagerness, an excitement, in his eyes that transformed his expression from sullen rebelliousness to youthful optimism.
“Do you really think I could do these things?” he asked.
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t have given you the brochures if I didn’t.”
Zach saw the boy’s Adam’s apple bob, as if Pete was having difficulty swallowing. “Well, thanks,” he said, rising suddenly, his face averted. “I’ll read them this weekend. See you Monday.”
He made his escape quickly, and Zach didn’t try to detain him. He knew Pete was overcome by emotion, a tricky situation for a teenager trying to be cool and macho who didn’t know quite how to handle such sentiment. He understood. But he also understood something else.
Pete had just been waiting for someone to care, to take an interest, to encourage him. Now that he’d found such a person in Zach, there was a chance he might shape up, might rethink the importance of education, might begin to consider the possibilities that it offered.
Zach knew people’s lives didn’t change overnight. Fifteen years of investigative reporting had taught him that. But lives could change, if people made an effort and learned to believe in themselves. And he had a feeling that Pete had just taken a step in the right direction.
Rebecca added a dollop of whipped cream to the final piece of chocolate torte, deposited the three servings on a tray, then paused, fidgeting nervously. She’d been trying to work up her courage to ask Zach about Easter ever since Sam’s phone call two days before, and she still hadn’t decided on the right approach. It was a family gathering, after all, and she didn’t want him to get the wrong impression. Yes, she was interested. And yes, she hoped at some point she’d find the courage to give dating him another try. But she wasn’t at that point yet. And she didn’t want him to think she was. She had to find a way to let him know the invitation was only a friendly gesture, that—
“My goodness, Rebecca, that whipped cream is going to deflate if you stand there staring at it much longer!” Rose declared, planting her hands on her ample hips. “Just go ahead and ask the man. I guarantee he’ll say yes.”
Rebecca was sorry now she’d even mentioned the Easter invitation to Rose and Frances. She had done it in a moment of weakness, and she’d been paying for her lapse all morning. The sisters had been all for it, of course. They’d fallen in love with Isabel, coddling her and loving her like grandmothers, and the little girl had thrived on their attention. And of course they’d been enamored with Zach ever since he sent Rebecca that bouquet of roses. So their employer’s reluctance to issue a simple invitation bewildered them.
“I’ll ask him for you if you want me to,” Frances offered helpfully.
“No! I mean, that’s very kind, Frances, but it really should come from me. I was just going in.” She lifted the tray and marched determinedly toward the door to the dining room, faltering only when she safely reached the other side and her gaze fell on Zach and Isabel, conversing very seriously and intently at a corner table. She paused to watch their interaction, glad that most of the Saturday lunch customers had departed. He looked great, she thought wistfully, appreciatively noting how his worn jeans and off-white cotton sweater enhanced his rugged good looks.
Just then he reached over to tousle Isabel’s hair playfully, and she giggled, the sound of childish pleasure bringing a smile to Rebecca’s face. She knew Isabel continued to miss her home and her parents. She talked about them often, excitedly relaying to Rebecca the messages she and Zach received on E-mail from Josef. But at least she seemed comfortable in her new environment, no longer withdrawn and uncertain as she’d been for the first few days.
As Rebecca watched them chatting, she let her eyes rest admiringly on Zach’s strong profile. She knew that a child was the last thing he wanted in his life at this particular time. Yet he’d welcomed her without question, honoring a fifteen-year-old promise without hesitation, then constructed his life-style to accommodate her. Few men would behave that unselfishly, she knew. He truly was a rare find. Which made it all the harder for her to hide her feelings. But she had to, she told herself resolutely. Because she wasn’t yet ready to face anything more than friendship. So, drawing in a deep breath, she put on her best “friend” smile and hoisted the tray into a more comfortable position.
The movement caught Zach’s eye, and he turned. His mou
th curved up into a lazy smile as he looked at her, and the simmering heat in his eyes was impossible to ignore as his gaze swept her lithe form. When his eyes reconnected with hers she could feel the sizzle of electricity between them, and she knew one thing with absolute clarity. Zach was not thinking friendship.
Flustered, Rebecca blushed, and his smile broadened. It was as if he sensed her discomfort, knew the reason and was pleased. So much for hiding her feelings, she thought wryly. But she had to keep up the pretense. For now.
“Well, are you two ready for dessert?” she asked, moving forward gamely, her voice determinedly cheerful.
“I always like something sweet after a meal,” Zach replied, the husky tone in his voice and the look in his eyes implying he had another sort of treat in mind as he rose to pull out her chair.
“Chocolate cake! Oh, goodie!” Isabel exclaimed, reaching for hers eagerly and diving in enthusiastically.
Rebecca no longer had to wonder if Zach’s interest in romance had died as a result of her rebuff the night of her birthday dinner. It was alive and well, she realized, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe as she sank down into her chair. Obviously he’d just been distracted during the last couple of weeks. Which wasn’t surprising, given all that had been going on in his life. But he wasn’t distracted now, she thought, venturing a glance at him as he snagged a piece of torte on his fork, then looked at her. The ardent light in his eyes left absolutely no doubt about his interest. Rebecca literally stopped breathing, her gaze riveted to his.
“This is good!” Isabel pronounced. “I like dessert.”
“That makes two of us,” Zach seconded, his eyes never leaving Rebecca.
The front door opened, and only when Ben strolled over did Zach finally release her gaze.
“Hi, there,” Ben said cheerfully.
“Hi, Ben,” Rebecca replied, her voice strained.
Ben looked at her worriedly. “You gettin’ a cold?”
She shook her head, a delicate flush tinting her cheeks. “No. I’m fine. What brings you here? Do you want to join us for dessert?” she asked hopefully, thinking Ben’s presence might dispel the present mood, which was fraught with overtones she didn’t seem able to handle.
“No, thanks. Just taking a break for a few minutes. Thought Isabel might like to take a stroll with me. What do you say, little lady?”
“Can I, Uncle Zach?” she asked eagerly.
“I don’t see why not,” he agreed.
“We’ll be back in a few minutes,” Ben promised, taking Isabel’s hand. As he turned to leave, Rebecca saw him glance quickly toward the kitchen door, where Rose and Frances were watching the proceedings with interest. As she caught their eyes, however, the sisters turned away guiltily, and the light suddenly dawned. This was a conspiracy. She should have known that Ben’s arrival was too well timed to be a coincidence. The sisters and Ben had conspired to give Zach some time alone with her. The question was, had he been in on it?
She turned to look at him suspiciously, but he held up his palms in protest. “I know what you’re thinking. But I had nothing to do with this. Although I can’t say I mind too much,” he added with a smile, reaching over to cover her hand with his. “I’ve missed you these past two weeks.”
She swallowed, acutely conscious of his hand resting protectively and caringly over hers. “You see me all the time,” she protested faintly, knowing that wasn’t what he meant.
Don’t push, he told himself. Remember: Patience is the operative word here. Play it cool and casual until she’s ready for something more.
“True,” he said easily. “But we’ve both been so busy we’ve hardly had a chance to say more than a few words to each other. And as much as I enjoy being with Isabel, I could do with some adult company.”
Had she jumped to the wrong conclusions? Rebecca wondered suddenly. Misread the spark in his eyes earlier? Maybe he was just glad to have an adult to talk to. She didn’t have enough experience with men to know for sure in situations like this whether they were pursuing or platonic.
“So I thought maybe you might join Isabel and me on a few outings now and then,” he finished.
“Outings?” she repeated curiously.
“Sure. You know, the state park, the zoo and science center in St. Louis, that sort of thing.”
“Oh.” Those kinds of things sounded safe enough, she thought. “Sure.”
“Great! How about a picnic tomorrow?”
“I can’t tomorrow,” she declined with honest regret. “I promised to help out at the church supper.”
“That’s too bad,” he said disappointedly. “And next Sunday is Easter, so I’m sure you have plans then.”
This was her opening. Now was the time to issue the invitation. She looked down at her uneaten cake, the whipped cream rapidly deflating—as was her courage. Just ask, she told herself sternly. Stop trying to second-guess how he’ll interpret the invitation. Remember what Sam said: don’t let fear hold you back.
“You’re right, I do have plans,” she confirmed slowly. “I’m going up to St. Louis to spend the day with Brad and Sam. Dad will be there, too.”
“Sounds nice.”
“Actually, Sam said it would be okay if I brought Isabel. And she…she said you were welcome, too, if you wanted to come,” Rebecca finished in a rush.
Zach tilted his head and eyed her speculatively. His first inclination was to accept immediately. But if it was going to make her uncomfortable with her family, he was reluctant to infringe. “How do you feel about that, Rebecca?” he asked quietly.
She hesitated, trying to frame her answer in a way that wouldn’t make him think the invitation was too personal, even if she did want them both to come. “Well, I hate for you two to be alone on a holiday,” she hedged.
“So you’re inviting us out of sympathy?”
She squirmed in her chair. “No. I…I like you both. And it would be a nice change for Isabel.”
“You could just take her.”
He was putting her on the spot, calling her bluff. He was going to make her admit that she wanted him to come. Or maybe he was being considerate, giving her an out in case having him along would make her uncomfortable. Which it no doubt would, to some extent. But still, she’d like to spend the holiday with him, and she might as well admit it.
“I’d like for you to come, Zach, if you want to,” she said softly, keeping her eyes downcast.
He reached for her hand, and when she looked up, she thought she detected a look of relief in his eyes. “I most definitely want to,” he assured her with a smile.
She returned the smile tentatively, but a moment later it changed to a frown.
“What’s wrong?” he prompted.
“I just remembered… You know Brad’s a minister, and we’re all going to meet at his church for the service when we arrive. But I know churchgoing isn’t exactly on your Sunday schedule.”
“That’s true. But it won’t kill me to go on Easter,” he replied easily. “In fact, that reminds me. I’ve been meaning to ask if you would mind taking Isabel to church with you on Sundays. I know Josef would want her to go.”
“Not at all,” she assured him.
“Thanks. And Rebecca…”
“Yes?” She looked at him curiously.
“I want you to know that…”
“We’re back!” Isabel announced, settling herself in her chair once more.
“We had a nice walk, didn’t we, little lady?” Ben remarked.
“Yes. It was fun.”
“Well, I’ll see you two later,” Ben said with a little salute before exiting.
“Rebecca! You didn’t eat your cake!” Isabel pointed out in a horrified voice.
“No. I…I guess I didn’t,” she admitted.
“Can I have it?”
“But sweetie, you already had a piece.”
“I’m still hungry.”
Rebecca glanced at Zach with a helpless look.
“How about if I
give you half?” Zach suggested, reaching over to divide Rebecca’s neglected cake with his knife. Their eyes met, and she tried to read the end of his interrupted sentence in his eyes. What did he want her to know? But whatever he’d been intending to say, he had clearly decided to save it for another time.
And maybe that was better, she consoled herself. She had a feeling that whatever revelation he’d almost disclosed would only make her nervous. And she was nervous enough already.
Chapter Nine
When Rebecca opened the door on Easter morning, her breath caught in her throat as she drank in the sight of Zach, handsome and distinguished in his dark gray suit, crisp white shirt and blue-and-silver tie, his hair still slightly damp and darkened from the shower. He had such…presence, that was the word, she decided. Not to mention charisma and an almost tangible virility. All of which meant he could turn her to mush with just a glance. Especially a glance like the one he was giving her now as his gaze swept over her swiftly but comprehensively, lingering for just a moment on her loose, flowing hair. His smile of greeting remained unchanged during that quick glance, but the warmth in his eyes erupted into a white-hot blaze.
Zach reached up to run a finger around his suddenly tight collar, swallowing with difficulty. He had seen Rebecca in a variety of outfits, but none seemed to capture her essence as well as this one. Zach didn’t know much about women’s clothes, but for some reason Rebecca’s attire gave her an old-fashioned beauty that made him think of afternoon tea or a garden party. From the gracious sweetheart neckline visible beneath the fitted, short-sleeved bolero jacket, to the full skirt that flared out from the tightly cinched waist, the style was eminently flattering to her trim, utterly feminine figure. And the pastel floral cotton fabric seemed to echo the spring hues of the lavender redbuds and pink flowering apple trees now blooming in profusion throughout the countryside.
But the crowning glory—literally—was her hair. Freed from the constraints of her usual French twist, the soft, unfettered waves cascaded past her shoulders, the glorious russet strands glinting in the golden morning sun as they framed her classic features. The wide-brimmed straw hat, adorned with a cluster of silk flowers in the back, was the perfect final touch.