“I knew that,” she managed, feeling her neck begin to tingle, wishing Sam would move away. He didn’t.
Carefully she stepped back and sidled over to where Zach’s swing was already beginning to slow down. “You just caught me off guard, Sam Grayson.”
“You were daydreaming.”
“Yes,” she said, as her breathing calmed and she dished up a smile. “I was dreaming of new forms of torture for men who catch unsuspecting women off guard.”
“Sounds...exciting.” He leaned a bit closer even as he gave Janey a push that made the little girl laugh with delight.
“You think cleaning toilet bowls is exciting?” she asked, leaning back and grinning up at him. “Is this a deep, dark secret you’ve been hiding from me?”
“Toilet bowls?” Sam howled, making Janey giggle even harder.
“Yep, that was what I was thinking. Every time a man steps out of line, he ought to be placed on latrine duty. It’s a most humbling occupation,” Rachel assured him.
“You think I’ve never been humbled in my life?” He stared her dead in the eye, and immediately Rachel remembered all the times she’d slid away whenever Sam had come near. She’d always been thinking of those times in terms of protecting herself. She’d carefully avoided looking at them from Sam’s viewpoint—or else she’d assumed she hadn’t had the power to wound him. But he was human, just as human as she was, and maybe she’d been wrong.
Now, with Sam pinioning her with his gaze, she found herself wanting to run away again as she’d done all those years ago. But she wouldn’t. He had hired a woman, not a shadow who slipped away whenever it was convenient.
Managing to hang on to her smile, to keep her tone light, Rachel lifted one shoulder, conceding his point. “Sam, I’m sure any man who has children has been humbled many times.” She lifted one brow as if to ask “Am I right?”
Sam groaned.
“I just hope Annie hasn’t been telling you about the time I tried to sew her a dress, or the accident with the load of red and white clothes.”
“Nope,” she agreed, lifting a now squirming Zach out of the swing. “But thanks for telling me about those incidents. Now that you’ve piqued my interest, I’ll be sure to pump Annie for all the humiliating details,” she teased.
As if she’d heard her name from all the way across the playground, Annie came running. She hopped back and forth from Sam to Rachel and back again. Finally ending up next to Rachel’s knees, the little girl moved in close, barely touching Rachel’s free hand with the tips of her fingers.
It was the first time she’d ever initiated any kind of contact. It was a small, very small, but significant moment of trust.
Rachel almost closed her eyes, the pleasure of Annie’s innocent acceptance was so intense, but she could feel Sam’s gaze on her. Turning to him, she caught his look of approval.
Biting down on her lip, Annie looked up at Rachel. “Could we have Nicky over next week one day?” she asked, wiggling as if she was unsure of the response. “I want to show her my room with the window seat where my stuffed animals sleep. She could bring her new doll to show me. We would be very quiet and not make any extra work.”
Rachel pressed the little girl’s fingers gently. “I want you to invite friends over whenever you wish, Annie. And you most certainly will not be very quiet. The only rule I have is that no one intentionally hurts anyone else. So you invite Nicky, and when she comes, you’ll get as messy and be as noisy as can be. We’ll make cookies the day before if you like.”
“Eat?” Janey asked, leaning over from the loop of Sam’s arms to put her nose up next to Rachel’s face.
Sam’s chuckle penetrated Janey’s body, so that Rachel could swear she felt it echoing inside her heart. “You bet it’s time to eat, pumpkin,” he said. “What do you say to lunch?”
Although his words were directed to Janey, Rachel looked up and saw that Sam was staring into her own eyes. She could feel Annie’s fingers wiggling against the back of her hand, Zach’s warm little bottom resting against her arm. And with Janey’s cheek next to her own, and Sam...what on earth did it mean when Sam’s blue eyes turned dark like that? Rachel didn’t know, but for a few bright seconds, closed in the circle of Sam’s family, Rachel felt like she belonged to him and his.
With a jolt she remembered that she’d experienced that same feeling years ago. She’d been so sure that she’d been right.
But she’d been wrong. Sam hadn’t wanted her then. It certainly wasn’t love or forever that he wanted from her now.
And it wouldn’t do to forget that again...or to read more into Sam’s looks than would ever be there. He had sworn he’d never marry again, and Sam was an honest man.
“Eat,” Zach agreed with great solemnity.
“Let’s go then,” Sam answered, planting his palm on the small of Rachel’s back, turning her toward his van...toward his home.
With a slow ache she didn’t want to explore forming within her throat, Rachel followed along. She knew now that she had to be very careful, so much more careful than she had realized. For Sam had come home—and she could no longer deny that his attraction for her had not died, but grown.
He was passionate, kind, he made magic for her when she watched him move or smile or whisper in his babies’ ears.
She’d chased after magic all of her life, held to its promise, cherished it and made it a part of her.
But Sam was forbidden magic. Not hers.
Except—she’d been granted this very short time with him. She’d taken it, been forced to it. And she would not turn her face away. Not yet.
“Let’s go home, sweetheart,” she whispered into Zach’s baby soft curls. For now she would indulge herself. Just for now she would pretend she was a part of this family, so that she would have some memories of them to keep, memories to hold close until she had her own babies to rock, her own man to love in the nighttime.
One day she would find the man really meant for her, and she would give him all of her passion. But for this short time, Sam was here. He blotted out all others. Indulging herself, she let it be. It was all right—for now.
Chapter Seven
Sam nearly had his brood to the van, all except Annie who was watching Ray cart out the lilacs, when a woman touched Rachel on the sleeve and called her by name. Turning, Sam caught an eager look on the lady’s face.
“Rachel, I’ve been meaning to call you,” the woman said as soon as Rachel had greeted her. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ve had a letter from my cousin, Don. He’s coming for a visit next week, and well, he wanted to write you himself, but...”
She held out her hands. “I don’t know, something about keeping his word about a full year’s breathing space. I’m not sure what that means. He said that you would. Anyway, I thought you should know that he’s coming, and that he’s doing well. Just made partner in the law firm. We’ll look forward to having you over again.” She smiled at Rachel, then turned to Zach as though she had just noticed him dangling from Rachel’s arms.
“What a sweetie,” she cooed as Rachel thanked her and said her goodbyes.
Sam noticed that the color on Rachel’s high cheekbones was a delightful shade of rose. He didn’t have a doubt as to who this unfamiliar woman was. Hal had gone on at length about Rachel’s persistent suitor of the summer before. Up until now he hadn’t thought about it much. There were plenty of other eager young bucks who were already sniffing around the lady, and she’d had the chance to marry this guy before and hadn’t done so.
Still, her color was high. For a short moment Sam felt a twisting deep inside him, wondering if those rose-tinted cheeks signified embarrassment or eagerness. Maybe she was planning on saying yes this time...maybe she’d had good reason for waiting and he’d be dancing at her wedding sometime soon.
“Oww,” Janey whimpered as Sam jerked at the thought, his grip tightening just a touch.
Instantly he loosened his hold and kissed the top of his daughter’s br
ight curls.
“I’m sorry, angel,” he soothed. “Let Daddy see.” Lifting Janey’s chubby little wrist, he was relieved to see that he hadn’t really hurt his child, but he placed a gentle, nibbling kiss on the spot she pointed to, anyway. Then he blew a soft raspberry on her wrist until she giggled and kicked in his arms.
“Da,” she protested, laughing and twisting her fingers into his hair as he continued to blow on her arm.
When he raised his head, Rachel was looking at him, her eyes soft and...sad?
“Janey’s all right,” he assured her. “I think I scared her more than hurt her.”
At that, Rachel turned her back on him. “As if I think that you’d ever –START-intentionally hurt anyone, Sam,” she said, lowering Zach to the sidewalk next to the van.
Intentionally? She had stressed the word.
And in Sam’s mind he saw a laughing, zestful Rachel rushing in the door with his sister, Kate. He saw a shadow of that same girl slipping out the door only a week later when he came home. What had happened? Or rather, what was it he had done? He’d always worried that some terrible part of her home life had been transferred over to him, but now—he’d done something. He couldn’t escape the conviction that he had done something to this gentle lady.
“Rachel,” he said softly, hoping she’d turn around. “I would never have hurt you intentionally, either. You were the sweetest kid I’d ever met. Whatever it was, whatever I did, I’m sorry.”
~ ~ ~
Rachel blindly slid her fingers along the side of the van, fumbling for the door handle. The sweetest kid. Maybe that had hurt more than the pity part. He had thought her a child back then, while she had been spinning romantic fantasies. And of course she had been barely out of childhood. But it wasn’t the word alone. It was what the word kid implied. When he’d said it years ago, when he’d told Donna to stop spinning gossip about the “poor, needy kid,” Rachel had known all her fantasies were just that.
She’d realized that Sam wasn’t going to love her—ever. He hadn’t thought of her “that way,” just as she didn’t think of Bob Engalls as more than a very nice man. And it had hurt to realize that.
Striving for control, Rachel realized that it still hurt. Even more, now that she’d grown up and gotten to know him, now that she’d moved into his world. But none of that had ever been his fault. Not then. Not now. She couldn’t blame the man for what he’d never been able to feel for her—and she certainly couldn’t bare her soul to him now any more than she could have then. The fact was that she had already made a decision about today, and she was damned determined not to spoil things this time with regrets or embarrassing explanations. Pasting on her smile, she yanked on the door and fastened Zach in his car seat before turning back to Sam.
“Sam,” she said, shaking her head. “I was a foolish kid. The reason I spent so much time out of sorts with you—well, it doesn’t even matter now. Let’s forget it, okay? Today’s a new day, a great day to be out in the sun with the kids. Let’s whoop it up and pretend all that stuff never happened, all right?”
She could see by the darkening of Sam’s eyes, the tightening of his jaw, that he didn’t want to let this subject drop. Now that she’d foolishly admitted that something had happened years ago, he didn’t want to let it go. He was determined to dig out all the details and make right something that Rachel knew couldn’t be made right.
Opening her mouth to speak, she shook her head. “Don’t push it, Sam,” she said.
“Haven’t I always?” His voice was low and coaxing.
She jerked her head up, surprised. “No,” she answered softly. “You were always a perfect gentleman even when I didn’t deserve it.” But a vision of herself leaning back over Sam’s arm just a week earlier pushed into Rachel’s mind. Maybe not a perfect gentleman. She could feel the flush climbing up her throat.
Apparently Sam could see her discomposure, too. He blew out a long, frustrated breath.
“Okay, you win this time, Rachel,” he agreed, moving up to lift Janey into her place beside Zach. “But someday, someday, sweet lady, you and I are going to sit down and you’re going to spill all your secrets to me. I mean to know what I did to you and make up for it somehow.”
Slow panic began to rise in Rachel, but she refused to let it show. “Oh?” she asked, raising a brow. “And how do you intend to make me talk, Sam?”
He cocked one brow. “Simple. Bribery,” he said with a slow grin.
“More flowers?” she asked incredulously.
Sam shook his head. “No, somehow I don’t think even flowers would be enough, Rachel. You hold your secrets pretty close. But—darn it, lady. Why won’t you tell me?” He slammed his hand against the van, then laughed. “Guess I’m being pretty overbearing, aren’t I?”
Rachel smiled at his crestfallen look. “That’s okay, Sam. You can be overbearing as long as I can remain a woman of mystery, all right?”
“A woman of mystery?”
“All right, a royal pain in the backside,” she agreed. “Let’s just go home, Sam.”
At her slip of the tongue, Rachel caught her breath, but Sam seemed to see nothing wrong with her calling his house home.
“All right, Rachel,” he said, catching Annie up as she headed their way, tumbling toward him. “But I hope that someday you’ll change your mind. Maybe you’ll trust me with those secrets, and we’ll clear all this up.”
Maybe. And maybe Santa Claus would come to town in July, Rachel thought. Because much as she wanted to be upfront with Sam, there was no way she could explain what he wanted to know. She couldn’t tell him that she’d once been hurt because she loved him—because then he’d wonder—did she love him still?
And that was a question Rachel couldn’t answer. It was a question she didn’t even want to face herself. Don would be here soon, and then she’d see. She’d see if things had changed.
Sam rested his arms on the now still Rototiller. He surveyed his property, the sun beating a path through the tree-tops and dappling everything with golden light. It was amazing what one tenacious, determined woman could do, he marveled, looking at the landscape before him. The big white Victorian was brightly accessorized, the corners flanked by full-leafed lilac bushes that would bring fragrance and color to his house next year. The old roses that had been struggling to survive were cleared of the choking weeds, budding, ready to pop out in shades of deepest red and purest white. Plots of yellow marigolds, blue ageratum, and scarlet geraniums lent a bold dash of color. But of all the additions to this house, the most precious of all was the group of people down on their hands and knees at the base of the last lilac bush.
Rachel crouched there with his children, pointing to something in the dirt.
“It’s a cicada’s shell,” she explained. “They only come out every seventeen years, but now and then you can still find one of their shells underground.”
“Seventeen years?” Annie echoed.
“Yes, angel.” Rachel nodded, smiling into the little girl’s eyes. “You’ll be almost grown up by the next time they come around. And it’s something to see, I’ll tell you. Lots and lots of cicadas, all responding to nature’s timetable and then disappearing for another seventeen years.”
“You’ve seen them?” Annie asked as Janey and Zach sat down, more interested in the small plastic shovels Rachel had given them. Janey picked up a teaspoon’s worth of dirt and tossed it in the air.
“Yeah?” Annie’s friend Nicky asked, clearly awestruck at Rachel’s announcement.
“Definitely,” Rachel agreed with a smile.
“Wow, you must be really old,” Nicky said.
Annie nodded, big-eyed. “If you remember something that only happens every seventeen years, you must be old, Rachel,” she agreed.
“Old?” Rachel’s laugh trilled over the yard. “Old, am I? Bet I can beat you to the oak tree in the front of the house,” she challenged. “And I’ll give you a five-second lead, okay?”
At that, the t
wo little girls shrieked and began to run, giggling all the way. As Sam watched Annie’s little feet pound over the grass, he noticed that Rachel gave them way more than a five-second lead. He heard her as she called, “Keep your eye on Janey and Zach, Sam, okay? I’ll be right back.”
Then she took off in a streak, her slender legs a flash of pale, shapely flesh, her long hair streaming out behind her. She was life itself—bright and beautiful and oh, so alluring. When she rounded the house, chasing the squealing, excited little girls, it was as if she carried the sun beneath her arm.
Without a thought, Sam strolled over to Janey and Zach, scooping them into his arms with a big hug and kiss.
“Come on, you two, we’re missing all the fun,” he confided with a grin.
“Some?” Zach asked, holding up his shovel.
“You little squirt, are you eating that stuff?” he asked, peering at his son’s mouth.
“No,” Zach said solemnly. “No, no, no.” It was clear that someone had already warned him against the dangers of eating dirt. Sam should have known that Rachel would already be wise to the lure of a good spoonful of soil. After all, she’d practically raised the Allyn clan. She’d known all the ins and outs of kids.
Even so, as he turned the corner and found Rachel, Nicky and Annie, all propped against the oak tree, his heart still gave a lurch at what he saw there, at what he should have expected. Annie was smiling, her mouth tilted up so wide her dimples had returned.
“I won, Daddy. I won the race, even though Rachel and Nicky ran very fast. Rachel almost won, she almost did, but I passed her just at the last second.”
Stepping close, Sam noted Nicky’s short little legs, legs not made for running races. But Rachel’s were long. Achingly long, he noted. His daughter was no runner, but still she had won against a long-legged gazelle of a woman.
And Annie was excited, tremendously excited, so much so that the dark cast that had lived in her eyes for a year was missing at the moment.
As he opened his mouth to speak, Rachel stepped into his space, close enough to make his heart trip and speed up. “Annie won,” she whispered, as if he was going to argue, before she hurriedly retreated back to her place against the tree.
Babies and a Blue-eyed Man Page 11