Mothers had good reason to worry.
Shaking herself out of her reverie, Madeline tried to pick up the vein of conversation. “Let me get this straight,” she said. “You’re the middle brother. Braden races boats and is three years younger and Kyle, a journalist, is four years older.”
Riley was taking her on a leisurely tour of his house. She wasn’t surprised he’d pointed out the more prominent features of the home’s horizontal form, the use of wood and stone and symmetry, but she found she was enjoying his anecdotal accounts even more.
“Kyle, Braden and I weren’t raised together, per se, but we stuck together out of self-defense,” he said as they passed a period bathroom where she saw several pill bottles next to the sink. “Until Kipp came to live with my mother and me when I was fourteen, Kyle, Braden and I were the only males in three households of women. Other than one son apiece and a weakness for our father, the only things our mothers had in common was a mutual love for us, a passion for shopping and small, high-strung dogs. When Braden was ten, one of my mother’s Pekingeses latched on to the seat of his pants and wouldn’t let go. They had to sedate him.”
“Braden?”
“The dog. If you should ever meet my younger brother, don’t let him show you his scar.”
“Trust me, I can handle gory,” she said. “His scar is bad?”
“It’s barely visible.”
He’d done it again, made her laugh out loud. Their easy camaraderie made her wonder what she was waiting for. “I was thinking,” she said. “Since there’s no place I have to be until next weekend, I’d like to—”
He turned around slowly, a marvelous shifting of long limbs and masculine ease, and met her smile with an expression that made her aware that they were now in his bedroom. Her heart beat a little faster and her mind went completely blank. She didn’t seem to know where to look. Speaking coherently was out of the question. Evidently so was thinking.
Riley could see that Madeline was flustered. Much of what she felt showed on her face. A few minutes ago her blue eyes had darkened with something that had damn little to do with crown molding and original hardwood floors. If he were to harbor a guess, he’d say it was ghosts from the past. What she was feeling now was between the two of them. Something was happening here. There was curiosity, and if he wasn’t mistaken, a mutual attraction.
And he was rarely mistaken about that.
As he’d shown her through his house, he’d begun to see it through her eyes. What are you waiting for? the untouched rooms seemed to whisper.
The answer eluded him even now.
Before moving in, he’d had the fourth bedroom converted into a master bathroom with heated floors, a steam shower and a bathtub for two. The king-size bed in the adjoining bedroom had down pillows and the most luxuriant cotton sheets money could buy. And yet he’d done very little entertaining here. Other than the few times Kipp had dragged him to a club, Riley had practically been a saint since his surgery.
He watched Madeline open a book he’d been reading. Her lashes looked dark against her pale skin. There was a slight indentation in her chin he hadn’t noticed before. He could see the narrow ridge of her collarbone through her white shirt, and a little lower, the edges of her lacy bra. Anticipation stirred in his blood.
His sainthood was on its last leg.
Her gaze found his as he crossed the room. For a moment it was as if she wanted to climb right inside. It was heady, a little like making love without touching.
He wasn’t mistaking the mutual attraction.
“You were saying there’s no place you have to be until next weekend,” he said, his voice sounding husky in his own ears.
“Yes.”
“And?” he asked.
“And I was thinking I’d like to stay here.”
The jut of desire settled low and heavy, the temptation to tip her face up for a long, deep kiss growing stronger by the second.
“Not here here,” she added quickly. “Here in Gale.”
He preferred the first here, but here in Gale wasn’t a bad second option. “I’d like that.”
Madeline didn’t know what was wrong with her. There was a humming in her ears and she was acting like an imbecile. She stepped away from him, testing her shaky legs to make certain they would hold her.
He assumed the stance she was coming to recognize, feet apart, hands on his hips, an effortless shifting of muscles and ease that did nothing to restore her equilibrium. “I should be going. Since I’m officially on vacation, I’d like to look for a cute little place to rent, maybe a cottage or a cabin near the water.”
“Madeline?” He spoke at the same time his phone rang on the leather-topped desk across the room.
“Take your call,” she said. “I’ll let myself out.”
“Wait.” He went to the desk, but instead of answering the phone, he scribbled something on a notepad. “Kipp owns several rentals. He’d probably give you a good deal this early in the season. Here’s his cell number. Here’s mine, too.” He tore the top sheet off and handed it to her. “Call me when you’re settled in.”
She backed up three steps and managed to leave the room without walking into the wall. She found her way to the kitchen with its marred table and the faint scent of burnt eggs and the quiet echo of shared laughter. She retrieved her shoulder bag from the back of the chair and made a beeline for the door and some much-needed brisk April air.
Ruby was just getting back from her last service call of the morning when Madeline pulled into the parking lot in front of Red’s Garage.
“I thought you’d be halfway back to Orchard Hill by now,” Ruby said, jumping down from the truck’s cab.
“I changed my mind.” Madeline got out, too, and closed her car door. “I’ve decided to stay until the end of the week and I was hoping you’d help me look for a place. To rent. If you’re not too busy, I mean. I’ll understand if you can’t. I can always stay at the Gale Motel. Maybe I’ll just go there now.”
“Would you breathe?” Ruby whisked her ball cap from her head and let her curls loose. “I’d love to look at rentals with you.”
Madeline relaxed for the first time since setting foot in Riley’s bedroom an hour ago. After leaving his house, she’d driven through the quiet streets of Gale, past impressive houses and churches and schools empty on this Saturday afternoon. She drove past Sully’s Pub at the end of Main Street and the other businesses that made up the downtown district.
The note bearing Riley’s and Kipp Dawson’s phone numbers was still in her purse. And it was going to stay there.
She was in mourning—it sounded old-fashioned, but it was true. She doubted she would ever get over losing Aaron, but apparently she wasn’t as numb as she’d thought she was. Her heart had sped up beneath Riley’s gaze. For just a moment she’d felt—gulp—attracted to him. She’d panicked. Her stomach still did a somersault when she thought about it.
Driving aimlessly had helped put her reaction in perspective. She was human. And humans felt. Emotions, reactions, responses, things they were better off not feeling. It didn’t have to mean anything. She liked Riley, and she wanted him to be happy. She wanted everyone to be happy. She couldn’t be completely honest with him about her reasons for coming to Gale. She also couldn’t sit idly by while he got the wrong idea about her intentions. She’d decided the best way to keep a respectable distance was to find her own place to stay this week.
According to Ruby, there were dozens of cabins and cottages available so early in the season. Together they’d consulted the classifieds in the newspaper and online. They made several phone calls and compiled a list right there in the garage. Ruby’s enthusiasm was a balm. Madeline was doing the right thing. Coming to Gale, finding Riley, deciding to spend the week here so she could help him in some small way, it all felt right again, like the marvelous discovery of something as essential to life as air and water.
Two hours and five appointments to look at rentals later, she was wonde
ring if she should have done this alone. Not because Ruby talked a mile a minute—Madeline enjoyed that, but because “You can do better than that,” seemed to be Ruby’s mantra.
Personally, Madeline would have been satisfied to rent the second-floor efficiency over Red’s Garage or the attic in the house near the dunes, but Ruby had other ideas. “You haven’t had a vacation in forever,” she said. “No it’ll do rental for you.”
So far they’d checked five “it’ll do” rentals off the list. Now Madeline was driving again and Ruby was directing her to turn right and left and left again.
“What do you think?” Ruby asked.
Madeline had followed Ruby’s directions through narrow lanes and back alleys. They’d taken shortcuts that crisscrossed the hills near Lake Michigan until Madeline had no idea where she was. “I think I’m thoroughly lost.”
“Look.” Ruby pointed straight ahead.
A quaint little cottage sat at the end of a narrow lane that served as the driveway. The lot was small and lined on three sides by pine trees and arborvitae hedges. The lake glistened gray-blue in the distance and sea gulls glided overhead.
The cottage reminded Madeline of the ones children drew on construction paper. It had a roof pointed like a hat, a crooked brick chimney, two large windows that could have been eyes and a plain front door. A square for-rent sign with faded blue lettering leaned against the steps. The smoke curling from the chimney made it appear lived in.
“Did the owner say how much?” Madeline asked.
“The phone reception was patchy. The guy I talked to said he’d meet us here at two. We’re early.” Ruby opened her door and swung out.
“Where are you going?”
“To look in the windows. Are you coming?”
Ruby was peering through the low window to the right of the front door when Madeline joined her. They stood out of the wind, the sun directly overhead, their hands cupped beside their eyes like field glasses.
“I like it,” Madeline said. “As long as it isn’t too expensive, I think this could be the one.”
“This change of heart you’ve had about staying,” Ruby said, moving to the other window. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with that gorgeous guy who accused you of trespassing then took you home last night. Oh, look, there’s a wood-burning fireplace.”
Madeline changed windows, too. “It’s not what you think. Riley, that’s his name, has this mongrel dog he hasn’t named and this great Frank Lloyd Wright house he barely lives in. I think I can help.”
Ruby looked at her as if she was waiting for the rest of the story. Madeline found herself confessing something she hadn’t said out loud to anyone. “I just—I don’t know—I guess I don’t want to go home yet. Don’t get me wrong. Everyone back home is wonderful. They are. I love them to pieces, but ever since Aaron died—Aaron was my fiancé. He died. I still can’t believe it, but he did, he died, and now everyone is worried about me. The mailman, the mayor, the clerk in the grocery store, my brothers and the other nurses at work, they all pat my shoulder when they talk to me, and they watch me as if they’re afraid I might jump off a bridge or shave my eyebrows the way the ancient Egyptians did when the family cat died.”
“They shaved their eyebrows?” Ruby asked. “Really? That seems a little extreme, don’t you think? I guess I’m more of a dog person.”
Madeline blinked then giggled. Something must be in the air here. She was still smiling when she resumed looking in the window. It did have a nice fireplace.
“Trespassing again, I see.” The voice was deep and came from directly behind them.
They both let out a gasp as they spun around. Riley and his dog stood a dozen feet away.
“She has an appointment,” Ruby said defensively.
“For two o’clock,” he said. “Yes, I know.”
He knew? Madeline thought. But how? Realization dawned. “You own this cottage.”
“You’re the guy with the Porsche from the bar last night,” Ruby said at the same time.
Riley looked at both of them but spoke to Madeline. “I didn’t think you’d want to stay in my cottage, so I gave you Kipp’s number.”
“Why wouldn’t she want to stay in your cottage?” Ruby asked.
This time he looked only at Madeline when he replied. “You strike me as the kind of woman who likes to do things her way.”
Again Madeline wondered how he did that. How did he make her feel as if he knew her?
Wearing a long-sleeved shirt but no jacket, he slipped his hand into the pocket of a pair of Levis just tight enough to be interesting. “Oh my,” Ruby said as he brought out a key.
Madeline must have put her hand out to accept the key, because she could feel the edges biting into the palm of her fisted hand. She was glad he didn’t seem to expect her to say anything.
The breeze lifted his wavy hair and fluttered through his shirt. Seemingly unfazed by the chill in the air, he said, “I turned the heat on inside the cottage in case you decide you like it.”
“Where’s your car?” Madeline asked.
“It’s parked in my driveway next door.”
“We’re on Shoreline Drive?” Madeline asked. Earlier, when Red O’Toole had graciously imparted description of and directions to Riley’s house he hadn’t mentioned an adjoining property.
“Yes,” Riley said. “I thought you knew that.”
“I guess I’m a little lost,” Madeline countered.
Ruby felt as if she was watching a tennis match.
“I’ve gotta go. Our newest clients have decided they want a glass floor in the foyer. Under the glass they want to display an antique car, but not just any antique car. They have their hearts set on a Riker and they expect me to find one. Kipp has a lead on a Riker belonging to a collector in Charlevoix. He’s waiting for me at his place. Go on in and take a look at the cottage. If you like it, make yourself at home. If you don’t, just lock the door when you leave.”
He took three steps, the dog right beside him. “Oh.” Turning again, he said, “Could he stay with you until I get back? I shouldn’t be late.”
Ruby didn’t see Madeline nod, but she must have, because she was holding the leash after he was gone. They both stared at the empty gap in the arborvitae hedge, hearing the screech of gulls overhead, the lap of water in the distance.
“What just happened?” Madeline asked dazedly.
“Apparently you’re dog sitting for the rest of the afternoon.”
The dog let out a sorrowful howl that raised goose bumps on Ruby’s arms. The brown mongrel seemed upset to be separated from Riley.
“Don’t worry,” Madeline was saying gently. “He’ll be back.”
He yowled again, a solemn, somber sound.
Ruby looked over at Madeline. She was pale and slender and seemed a little sad. No matter what she said, there was more to her visit to Gale than mourning a beloved fiancé, naming a stray dog and moving some furniture, but she had resiliency, pluck and determination. She was going to be all right.
Ruby wondered if the same could be said for Riley Merrick. The dog yowled again. Apparently Ruby wasn’t the only one who thought so.
Madeline didn’t know where she was when she opened her eyes. There was a pillow beneath her cheek, a warm throw over her legs and shoulders, and an expanse of creamy white directly in front of her eyes.
Outside the wind seemed to exhale. Inside a clock ticked. She must have fallen asleep.
Now she remembered. She’d been dog sitting. She’d stretched out on the sofa in the cottage to wait for Riley to return. He must have run into trouble, because darkness had fallen and he still wasn’t back.
She snuggled deeper into the warmth of the throw.
Her eyes popped open. She hadn’t been covered up when she laid down. Hurriedly sitting up and whisking the throw off, she caught Riley and the dog on their way out. “Going somewhere?” she asked.
He glanced over his shoulder at her, his hand on the doorknob. “I didn�
��t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t.” The quiet cadence of their voices lent an intimacy to the exchange. “I’m surprised I didn’t hear you come in. I’m not normally a sound sleeper.” She stood and instantly curled her bare toes in the plush rug beneath her feet. “Having your dog here must have made me feel safe.” She looked at the dog staring back at her from the vicinity of Riley’s knee. “Obviously it was a false sense of security. You could have barked,” she said, giving the dog’s head a gentle pat. “What time is it?”
“It’s almost midnight. I didn’t expect it to take so long to close the deal on the car. I apologize.”
“I didn’t mind,” she said, and she meant it. “We shared an order of Chung Du Chicken and fried rice, and then he kept me company while I unpacked.”
“So you like it?” He gestured around the room with his free hand.
She nodded. The cottage was small but comfortable. Decorated in shades of white, cream and blue, it reminded her of the dunes and the lake and the sky. “Who did your decorating?”
“My stepmother. She wanted to do my house, too, but had to be satisfied with the guesthouse for now. Gwen was afraid, if left to my own devices, there would be leather couches and a big-screen TV.”
If he’d intended to make her smile, it worked. He had a shadow of a beard tonight. His sleeves were rolled up and he’d run his fingers through his hair. His quietude was probably a result of fatigue.
“I must warn you,” she said, “I have every intention of finding a name for your dog and unveiling your furniture. He looks a little like a Jake, doesn’t he?”
Riley shifted his stance and took his hand from the doorknob.
“No?” she asked. “Rocky? Archie. Buster.”
He must have noticed her rubbing her upper arms, because he reached to the thermostat to the right of the door and turned up the heat. The dog yawned, prompting her to say, “Droopy? Gumball.”
The Wedding Gift Page 5