by Susan Wiggs
“My gym,” Noah said, picking up the remote control and turning down the volume. Sophie wasn’t sorry to hear the end of that. It was music she’d never heard before and didn’t care for, more noise than notes.
“T-Pain,” Max said. “I like those guys.”
“Word,” said Noah.
The basement was outfitted like a professional gym—a treadmill, stair step machine, weights and pulleys, some sort of wall apparatus straight out of the Inquisition. The place was equipped with speakers, a fridge and a sink. There was a shelf crammed with water bottles, mugs and glasses, and a number of trophies shoved haphazardly away.
Max noticed them right away. “What are the trophies for?”
Noah was busy shutting down the equipment. “Some races,” he said. “Mostly triathlons.”
Heavens, thought Sophie. No wonder he was such a hunk.
“My mom swims. She was in a big swimming race last year, weren’t you, Mom?” commented Max. He turned to Noah. “She swam the Zuider Zee. That’s in Holland. Fifty kilometers, right, Mom?”
Sophie was surprised. “I didn’t think you’d remember that, Max.”
“Hello? When your mom swims across a sea, even a really little one, you kind of remember it.” He turned back to Noah. “She finished in the top ten percent and probably would have done even better if it hadn’t been for those East German women with hair on their chests.”
Noah grinned. “I hate when that happens.”
Max stood on tiptoe to check out one of the trophies. “This one’s for an Ironman triathlon. What’s that mean?”
“A two-mile swim, hundred-mile bike ride and a full twenty-six-mile marathon.”
“You got first,” Max said. “That’s awesome.”
“I’m training for a winter event now,” Noah said. “It takes place during Winter Carnival. Speedskating, snowshoeing and cross-country skiing.” He finished shutting down the equipment, pulled on a hooded sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants, then led the way upstairs. Sophie was bemused by the way Noah and Max hit it off, buddies already. There was a peculiar eagerness in Noah as he showed Max around his place. Nothing like a little hero worship to perk a guy up.
Max was already intrigued by the overtly guylike features of the place—the foosball table in the middle of the living room. A full-size jukebox rescued from a local bar that went out of business. The giant TV and all its video games and accessories. A young boy’s paradise.
“Is that the Wii?” Max asked.
“The latest model.”
“What games do you have?”
“Super Smash Bros., Rayman. I also have a PlayStation with Guitar Hero III….” Noah rattled them off, more foreign to Sophie’s ears than an African dialect. “Tell you what. You can put something on while I run upstairs for a quick shower.”
“That’s okay. I’d rather play with the dogs.”
“Fine by me.” Noah turned to Sophie. “Be right back.”
As Max sank to the floor to play tug-of-war with Opal, Sophie refrained from saying I told you so. Max wouldn’t have cared, anyway. He was lost in laughter at the frisky pup.
She thought about the Ironman trophies. She thought about Noah’s bare, glistening chest and powerful shoulders. She was attracted to the man, but her instinct was to conceal that from Max. It was nothing, she told herself. A temporary madness.
Could there be anything more awkward than dating in the presence of your children? How had Greg handled that? And had the kids been okay with him dating? Would they be okay with her doing so, even this soon after her arrival in Avalon?
Max let the puppy tackle him and lick his face. And Sophie couldn’t help smiling at them both.
“She’s an orphan,” she told Max. “The puppy, I mean.”
“Really?”
“Well, sort of. According to Noah, she comes from a very big litter. The mother couldn’t take care of her, so Noah had to bottle-feed her.”
“The mother rejected her?” Max held Opal up, brought his face to hers. “Poor thing.”
“She needs a home,” Noah said, coming down the stairs, his damp hair curling over his brow. He looked as sexy as ever in jeans and a haphazardly tucked-in plaid shirt, his feet bare.
Don’t look at him, she warned herself. When she looked at him, she went brain-dead.
“Maybe you’d like to keep her,” he said to Max, sitting down to put on clean socks and boots.
Max leaped to his feet, hugging the pup close. “Really?”
“If it’s all right with your mom,” Noah added.
“Oh, this is emotional blackmail,” Sophie objected. “If I say no, that makes me the Wicked Witch of the West.”
“Then don’t say no,” Noah advised her. “You mentioned before that it would be nice to get Max a dog. You said that first morning that you ought to get a dog. I’m doing this as a favor.”
“I was speaking theoretically, not—”
“You said that, Mom?” Max was now regarding her with worshipful eyes.
“Yes, but maybe not so soon. I don’t even have a place of my own. It’s completely unacceptable to bring an animal into a house where I’m a guest.”
“I talked to Bertie last night to make sure she didn’t mind about the dog,” Noah said. “She’s totally on board with it.”
“You did not,” Sophie objected. “You said you didn’t know her.”
“I said I hadn’t seen her in a long time. Do you have your phone with you?” Noah asked.
Without thinking, she took it out of her pocket and handed it to him. He flipped it open and scrolled through her contacts, then hit Send and handed back the phone. “You can ask her yourself right now.”
Sophie closed the phone before connecting. “I still can’t do this. I don’t have time. I have to watch my grandson three afternoons a week.”
“The puppy can stay here while you’re away,” Noah said simply. “And when Max isn’t in school, he’ll take care of her.”
“Mom, please.” Max tucked the puppy against his chest. “She needs me now.”
“Tell you what,” Noah said, shrugging into a parka, “I’ll show you around. The puppy can come.”
Max and the dogs headed out the back door. Sophie started to follow, but Noah held her back, grabbing her hand and reeling her in to plant a kiss on her surprised mouth. It lasted all of two seconds, yet in that span of time, she relived all the ways he had touched her and the unexpected things he made her feel, and how, when she was with him, she never felt lonely.
She pulled away from him. “Stop that.”
“Your boy doesn’t know about us?”
“There is no us. There’s nothing to know.”
“Then what the hell are we doing, Sophie?”
“I don’t believe you. Acting as though your feelings are hurt.”
“Maybe they are,” he said.
She tugged on her gloves as she walked out the back door. “You are in such trouble.”
He followed her outside, his boots crunching on the snow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Not now.” She marched ahead.
“He seems like a good kid,” Noah said. “I’m going to show him around some more. Want to come?”
Like the pied piper, Noah led Max to the clinic. The puppy came paddling through the drifts behind. Sophie heaved a sigh, feeling confused and hopeful and out of sorts. Noah had overstepped a boundary, but the bottom line was, he had just given Max a reason to spend as much time as possible with her. She went to join them. After a brief tour of the facilities, which Max clearly found interesting, they went up to the barn. They checked out a room full of veterinary equipment and a stall for patients, currently vacant.
“Ever ride a horse?” Noah asked Max.
“Nope. Never had the chance.”
“I’ll show you how one of these days. There’s a girl who comes a few times a week to work around here and exercise them. Chelsea Nash. Do you know her?”
Max looked uncomf
ortable. “Saw her on the school bus.”
“Maybe she could teach you, too. And then there’s your mom.”
“My mom doesn’t ride.”
“I used to,” Sophie said quickly. “I used to be sort of good at it. I had a horse of my own.”
“No way.” Max watched her stroking one of the horses.
“I got Misty when I was about your age. I rode her every day.”
“You never told me you had a horse when you were a kid,” Max said.
“I never told you I had the mumps when I was little, either.”
“Yeah, but a horse. That’s major.”
“Mumps are major.”
“So what happened to the horse?”
“She died and I was completely devastated.”
Max scooped up Opal and hugged her against his chest. “Don’t think that’s going to talk me out of this puppy.”
Nineteen
Noah hadn’t been lying about having called Bertie Wilson. Sophie phoned her, and Bertie said yes, it was fine to adopt a puppy. “Little Noah Shepherd.” She seemed amused. “It was great to get his call. I hadn’t heard from him in years.”
Little Noah Shepherd? Sophie had to smile. There was nothing little about him.
Max spent the afternoon rearranging his life—and Sophie’s house—around the puppy. He brought the crate, bedding and food bowls from Noah’s and set her up in his bedroom. Daisy and Charlie showed up at dusk, bringing a merry swirl of cold air. “I came as soon as I got your message,” Daisy said. “A puppy?”
Sophie took the baby from her while Daisy hung up her coat. “It wasn’t my idea.”
“You should take credit for it, though. It’s brilliant.”
While Daisy went in search of Max and the puppy, Sophie gave her attention to the bundle in her arms. “Hello, you.”
To her delight, Charlie offered her a funny grin, punctuated with a string of saliva.
“You know me now, don’t you?” Feeling ridiculously pleased with herself, she joined Daisy and Max to find him transforming his closet into a puppy habitat. The crate fit on one side, and he’d created a play area with toys, a step stool and a fat, knobby log from the woodpile.
“I’m impressed,” Sophie said. “For someone who’s never had a dog before, you seem to know what you’re doing.”
“Mom. I’ve been planning this my whole life.”
She stood back and watched him stroking the puppy, his face soft with adoration. She wondered what other dreams and plans he had. There was so much to learn about Max.
With the baby in her lap, she sat cross-legged on the floor. The puppy came to check out Charlie and was polite enough about sniffing him. Daisy applied herself diligently to helping Max. After a while, Sophie realized the entire afternoon had passed without Max complaining even once about the lack of cable TV or computer games.
As she sat there with her kids and grandson and the new dog, she felt an emotion she almost didn’t recognize—happiness, pure and simple. A sense of peaceful contentment.
Life, for this moment, was good.
She was just starting to think about getting dinner when the phone rang.
“I ordered pizza. It’ll be here in about forty-five minutes.” Noah always seemed to have a smile in his voice.
“And this concerns me because…”
“Because I’m warning you now, there’s no meat on the pizzas.”
“I’ll inform the media.”
“Come over. We’re going to be jamming.”
“We?”
“Me and the guys in the band.”
Band? “My daughter’s here—”
“Bring her. Bring anyone you want.”
Sophie reminded herself that she was mad at him about the dog. “Noah—”
“Be there,” he said. “Aloha.”
“What’s up?” asked Daisy as Sophie put away her phone.
“How do you feel about an evening of culture?”
Her children regarded her skeptically.
“Continental cuisine and musical entertainment,” she said.
The kids looked queasy, and she relented. “Pizza and Noah’s garage band. We’re all invited.”
“Dude,” Eddie Haven, the guitar player said, “lose the sweatshirt.”
“What’s wrong with this shirt?” Noah asked. “I just washed it.”
“You reek of Bounce sheets.”
Noah had stuffed a handful in the dryer with the last load he’d done. “So?”
“Chicks get suspicious when they smell Bounce sheets on a guy.”
Noah frowned at him and went over to his drum set, tapping the snare to check the tuning. “I don’t get it.”
“When a shirt smells like dryer sheets, it can mean only one of two things. One, he’s gay. Or two, he’s got a girlfriend. Before today did you ever use it?”
“No. I had a box left over from when I was with Daphne.”
“My point exactly.”
“Sophie knows I’m single,” Noah said. “And she knows I’m not gay.”
Eddie adjusted the volume of his amp. “Yeah?”
“Definitely.”
“Dude.” He offered his fist and they touched knuckles. Of all the guys in the band, Eddie was the one with real talent. He could wail on the guitar like a young Stevie Ray Vaughan while belting out rock ballads that made grown men pine for their lost youth. The only reason he hadn’t hit the big time was that he lived in Avalon—not by choice but by necessity. There was some convoluted story about a scuffle with the county prosecutor’s nephew, a missed court date and a quarrel with a cranky judge. The upshot was, Eddie had been ordered to perform community service by serving the Heart of the Mountains Church as choir director. He did a remarkably good job at it, not surprisingly, given his background.
“About the laundry, I’m not kidding,” Eddie concluded. “Bo said you’re into this chick.”
“I am into this chick,” Noah admitted.
“And I’m just trying to be helpful.”
Noah laughed. “Because you’ve been such a huge success with the ladies.”
Eddie looked chagrined. “I’ve been unlucky in love.” He had a long and complicated history with women—as well as the law.
“So you consider sleeping with the pastor’s wife unlucky,” Noah said.
“Nope, I consider getting caught unlucky,” said Eddie.
Bo Crutcher arrived with two longneck bottles of beer stuck in his back pockets and a rebel yell on his lips. “Are you ready to rock ’n’ roll, my brothers?”
“I was just giving our boy Noah a bit of advice for the lovelorn,” Eddie said.
“He’s not lovelorn,” Bo said with a snort.
“How do you know?” Noah demanded. “I am too. I’m totally lorn.”
“In lust, maybe. Not love, though.”
“How the hell would you know that?”
“Because if you were lovelorn, you wouldn’t be with us tonight. You’d be with her.”
“I invited her over,” Noah said.
“I mean, you’d fix things so it’s just the two of you,” Bo said.
“I can’t. Not tonight,” Noah admitted.
“Can’t what?” Rayburn Tolley, their keyboard man, came in through the kitchen, his apple cheeks burned deep red by the cold, making him look more boyish than ever. Like Noah, he’d grown up in Avalon. He was a policeman under Chief McKnight. He was also Eddie’s parole officer.
“Can’t be alone with his new woman,” said Eddie.
“Why not?” asked Ray.
“It’s complicated,” Noah said.
“‘It’s complicated’ covers a lot of ground. It can mean anything from ‘I’m married’ to ‘I did time for involuntary manslaughter after my last boyfriend was killed.’”
“She’s got her kids with her all weekend.”
“Bummer,” said Eddie. “So much for the booty call.”
“And her grandson,” Noah added, watching his friends closely for a r
eaction.
They took it in stride. “She’s a grandmother?” Ray said.
“That’s right,” Noah confirmed. “And they’re all coming over, and you guys are going to be cool.”
“Nothing but cool,” Bo agreed, opening a beer.
“You should never doubt our coolness.” Ray stepped up to the keyboard and switched on the power.
“Because she’s kind of classy,” Noah said.
“What kind of classy?” Ray demanded.
Just then, Sophie walked into the room. “Hello,” she said. “I knocked at the door but I don’t think anyone heard.”
Noah felt a rush of happiness when he saw her. His friends were wrong about the lust. That was part of what he felt for Sophie, sure, but it was so much more than that. Or it was going to be, if he didn’t blow it. While she took off her jacket, the others went silent. Under his breath, Eddie muttered, “Dude.”
“Come in and meet the guys,” Noah said. He hoped like hell she wasn’t still mad about the dog.
“My crew is here, too.” Sophie motioned them in from the vestibule, and there were introductions all around.
Noah wasn’t surprised to see that her daughter, Daisy, looked a lot like Sophie—blond hair and blue eyes, a killer smile. Daisy’s baby was a smiling, red-haired lump of a thing, his bright eyes moving watchfully around the room.
“How’s it going with the puppy?” Noah asked Max.
“So far, so good. I found a perfect spot for her crate. She was sound asleep when we left the house. She was really tired.”
“Puppies sleep a lot,” Noah said.
The pizzas arrived in a stack of five boxes, five different combos. Everyone was quiet for a while, intent on eating. Noah found some sodas and a bottle of red wine in the pantry, and after a while, they got down to business. As a band, they didn’t do much performing, but getting gigs wasn’t that important. It was always good to have an audience, even a tiny one.
Noah put on his lucky baseball cap, brim turned backward, and took his seat. He offered Sophie a brief smile, feeling unusually self-conscious, which was not like him. They’d been practicing and, thanks to Eddie, they weren’t half-bad.