“Are you okay, Mom?” Jonathan sounded anxious.
She turned her gaze back toward the road, away from Daniel, breathless and quivering inside. “Just great,” she said cheerfully. “Let’s go home and have ourselves some fun.”
“Wow, that was cool,” Jonathan said. “I’m going to have a car when I’m sixteen.”
“You turn sixteen and you get a car?” Will sounded hopeful.
Lilah didn’t feel exactly like herself, so it took some effort to sound normal. “Well, no, it’s not quite that easy.” She smiled, still seeing the image of Daniel in her mind although they were now blocks away from the car lot. “You also have to learn to drive.”
“I hope mine’s a Porsche,” Jonathan said.
“Dream on,” Lilah said. “You’ll be thrilled with whatever it is. Hey, when we get home, we should get to work on dinner.”
“Daniel says it’s warm enough for a picnic,” Nick said.
“Yep,” Lilah agreed, “and it’ll be just like the Fourth of July. Jesse has baked beans in the oven, and we made potato salad last night.” She remembered something else she’d been thinking about. “You know, July really is birthday month around here. Jason’s, then Maury’s, and then Daniel’s. Jesse told me.”
“Jason told me they have parties on their birthdays,” Will said.
“Jesse says Daniel won’t let us give him one,” Nick said.
Maybe it was just seeing the expression on Daniel’s face a few minutes earlier, but Lilah felt like doing something special for him, and the bud of an idea began to blossom.
“Maybe we should give him one anyway,” she said slowly. “A surprise party.”
THE MINUTE THEY GOT home, the boys began setting up the backyard for a picnic. A black-and-white checked oilcloth tablecover, its edges trimmed with pinking shears, covered the picnic table. From each corner a weight dangled, not a decorative weight, either, but a rock wrapped in cheesecloth and tied on with kitchen twine.
Lilah smiled. Daniel ran a no-frills operation for sure. While the boys were in the house gathering the tableware, she made a bouquet of dark pink peonies cut from the plants that had just begun to bloom at the side of the house. She stood in the yard holding them, frowning. Daniel was getting a proper vase for his birthday, whether he liked it or not. In the meantime…
She found a clear plastic pitcher in a cupboard, and once she’d lined it with huge, bright-green hosta leaves, it looked pretty nice filled with peonies.
She put it down in the center of the table, where the boys were fitting flimsy paper plates into wicker holders. Under each holder and plate was a paper napkin, and on top, a knife and fork from their everyday stainless steel held everything down.
“No plastic forks?”
“Jesse said if we bought plastic forks, we’d probably start washing them and using them again,” Nick explained. “So why buy plastic?”
Now everyone was home and everything was under control. Lilah sat on one of the lawn chairs that were arranged around the backyard and relaxed. While Jesse got the fire going in the grill, the younger boys were practicing some soccer moves they’d learned at camp and talking about the events of the day. Jason and Maury were bonding with their new vehicles, simply sitting in them or stroking the hoods, vacuuming the floorboards and exchanging some car talk. Daniel was in the middle of the fray, attempting to act as referee. Unfortunately, Aengus had also joined the impromptu game and was jumping, barking and chasing the ball.
“Hey, Mom, watch this,” Jonathan shouted.
Lilah turned and watched her son bounce the ball on top of his sneaker, then toss it in the air and kick it hard. The other boys cheered his move, and Lilah laughed. Her son was flourishing in his new life, thanks to these boys. Her gaze drifted to Daniel. And thanks to this man. Could it be, was it possible, that she was flourishing, too?
She watched as Daniel encouraged the boys, cheering every bounce and kick. Bruce had made her want never to be with a man again, but Daniel was different from any other man she’d known.
He was kind. Patient. Funny. Appealing. Watching him play with the boys, Lilah noticed the graceful way he moved, as if he were comfortable in his own skin.
Her gaze lingered, and a tingle ran through her. Well, of course, it was hard to be a female and not tingle at the sight of him. He was great to look at, but he wasn’t just a pretty face. He radiated energy and life, and when he smiled, he could take her breath away.
There was danger here. She could so easily get caught up in that circle of energy and lose what she’d so painfully acquired over the past three years. She could find herself relaxing, staying right here, taking care of his house, mothering his boys, not even realizing she’d lost her independence and had given him control of her life.
He must have sensed her looking at him because suddenly he stopped, and then he sent her that slow smile of his. Lilah felt attraction dance down her spine like a caress, and without thinking, she found herself smiling back.
For a long moment, Daniel simply gazed at her. She wished she knew what was going on in his mind. She hoped he didn’t know what she was thinking.
“Aargh!” In pursuit of the ball, Aengus knocked him flat. For a moment, he lay on the summer-green grass, laughing while Aengus frantically licked his face, either apologizing or trying to bring his master back to life.
“Enough, enough,” Daniel told the anxious dog. “I’m fine.” Still laughing, he rolled up onto his feet, dusted himself off and headed toward Lilah’s chair.
“Chow time,” Jesse yelled.
“For the record, guys, you may not eat in your cars or sleep in your cars,” Daniel megaphoned to Jason and Maury. “That’s enough soccer for tonight,” he called out to the younger boys. “Come over here and have a hamburger.”
A light breeze cooled their picnic. The black flies seemed to have gone to bed, and even though it was still light at seven, citronella candles were lit to discourage the mosquitoes.
“The idea was to have an easy dinner so everybody could go on the field trip to used car lots,” he said, spooning up baked beans from the gallon-sized crock. “So what’s all this other stuff doing here?” He was sitting beside Lilah, and the twinkling gaze he rested on her made her feel warm inside. A little too warm.
His thigh brushed hers, a firm, muscular thigh, and the heat inside her intensified. Her appetite, for food, at least, flew away in the evening air.
This was ridiculous. What if the boys noticed her flushed face? She was their housekeeper. She had no business gazing at Daniel with her mouth hanging open.
She closed it tightly, but she couldn’t reason the feelings away. “Are you boys going to learn everything you can about engines?” she asked brightly. “So you can do some of your own repairs?”
They were on second and third helpings and having a lively discussion about suspension systems when the candles suddenly flickered and the leaves from the maples rustled. Seconds later, a jagged flash of lightning crackled above them, and to Lilah’s amazement, the younger boys immediately began counting. “Seven,” they shouted when the thunder rolled.
They gazed at each other and at the sky. “Dessert inside,” Jesse said succinctly. “Everybody scramble.”
“WE NEED RAIN,” Daniel said.
“Not this much of it,” Jesse grumbled.
Lightning lit up the picnic scene outside, and thunder rattled the old glass of the windows. They’d barely made it indoors with the food when the heavens opened. Rain pelted down on Jason and Maury while they gathered up soggy paper plates after putting their cars to bed in the carriage house. Maybe even with a good-night kiss.
But Daniel really did need the rain. In the first place, Lilah’s fragile body so close to him had stirred his blood, and he didn’t want his blood stirred. He was walking a fine line here, having a woman in his house, a beautiful woman, and he didn’t dare cross it. He needed the rain to cool him down.
In the second place, he’d been looking for j
ust the right time to explain the foster-care center to her in a casual way. “Before we have shortcake, I have some entertainment planned.”
The boys were pitching in, filling trash bags with the used plates, refilling plastic cups from the pitchers of lemonade. “I’ll need some tech help in the living room,” he added.
“Whoa!” He blocked the kitchen doorway as all five boys attempted to trade kitchen duty for tech assistance. “Jason and Jonathan, come with me.”
“Is it a movie?” Nick asked, when he saw the screen set up against the living room windows.
“No, I need to practice the speech I have to give in a couple of weeks to a bunch of people who need to approve the foster-care center. If I wow ’em, they might even donate money.”
The boys wriggled uneasily. “Come on,” he said. “I help with your homework, right? Well, this is my homework. Pretend you’re a roomful of big shots deciding whether to trust me with a great big project I want to do, using their money.”
Lilah, who’d been looking interested, winced when he mentioned “other people’s money.” Bad news. If she wasn’t looking forward to the speech, either, he might as well give up on it, he thought, since she was his prime target. He wanted to be able to talk to her about the center. She seemed to understand human nature. She might have some good advice for him.
Jason was at the computer and Jonathan stood by the light switches. First, Daniel delivered a short introduction explaining the purpose of the center.
“The kids would live in houses with parents, just like we live with you?” Maury said. “That’s cool.”
Jason gave him a look. “Sorry, Daniel,” Maury said. “Go on.”
The first of the PowerPoint visuals appeared on the screen, presenting a picture of rolling land, grassy and shaded by trees, partially surrounded by a forest of evergreens, maples and birches, with the mountains rising up in the background. Sheep dotted the landscape. “This is the land where we’ll build the center. “It’s…”
“It’s Uncle Ian’s land,” Nick said with an air of authority. “I know from the sheep.”
“That’s right,” Daniel said. “Jason?”
The second image appeared. “This is the architect’s model of the center, as you’d see it from the air.”
“Like from a helicopter?” Jonathan asked.
“Big shots don’t ask that kind of question,” Jason informed him.
“Yes,” Daniel said, “it’s like an aerial view, but these are small models on a tabletop, so the photographer just leaned over them with his camera.”
“It looks real,” Will said.
An impatient sigh came from Jason, but Daniel said, “Good, because I want the development board to see how it will look.”
He hazarded a glance at Lilah. She wasn’t wincing now or looking bored—or as if she wished she could go to the kitchen and help Jesse clean up. She was spellbound. Her hair swung over her shoulders as she leaned forward, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks flushed with excitement.
She is beautiful flashed through his mind, before he thought, and she’s interested. He was so anxious to hear what she thought about his impending presentation after the boys went to bed that he had to force himself not to rush through the rest of his speech and to be patient when the boys interrupted him with questions. The slides got pretty boring anyway toward the end—not for him but for his restless audience, which became increasingly fidgety as the smell of baking shortcake wafted in from the kitchen.
Lilah didn’t look bored, not even by these slides. When the estimated costs came up on the screen, her forehead wrinkled in concentration. In reaction to the list of potential donors, he could almost see ideas buzzing in her head.
“Any questions?” he asked, when he wound up.
“No,” Will said forcefully, gazing toward the kitchen.
“No questions?” He gave them his most disappointed face, then his hopeful one. “Does this mean you’re ready to donate?”
“I’ll give you all the allowance I’ve saved, if you’ll just let us have that strawberry shortcake,” Will said fervently.
Daniel looked severely around the room. “Anybody else?”
“Dessert’s ready,” Jesse bellowed from the kitchen.
“Good night, then,” Daniel said, bowing. “I’ll be in touch with you soon, and have your checkbooks with you.”
He said it to an audience of one—Lilah, who was still gazing at the final slide showing the projected time frame for building the center.
A brilliant flash of lightning and a deafening clap of thunder punctuated the moment. Gotcha, Daniel thought.
ONCE AGAIN, BEDTIME DIDN’T happen exactly at nine, but at last the boys and Jesse were, if not exactly quiet, at least tucked away behind closed doors. Lilah was so wrapped up in the center proposal that she realized she’d done a pretty poor job of seeing the kids off to bed.
“I could stand another cup of coffee,” Daniel said. “How about you?”
She heard him, but couldn’t concentrate on anything as trivial as coffee. “Wow,” she said softly, “what you’re doing here is, well, it’s just…just the most wonderful thing imaginable. And you have it so well thought out. You must have been planning it for years.”
He paused at the door, walked back toward her and sat across from her. “You think I’m on the right track?” he said. “You think I can convince the Regional Development Board it’s a good idea? Because without them, I can’t get the permits to build, and without those, there’s no point in fund-raising.”
“Of course you’ll convince them…” Her voice trailed off.
“But?” he said. “You have to tell me. That’s what this trial run was all about.”
“I was thinking…”
“What were you thinking.”
Okay, she’d go for it.
“I was thinking about some ways you could jazz up the presentation.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Tell me. I need to bowl these folks over.”
“Well, entertaining them would be a good start. What about a film with a voice-over.” She warmed to her subject. “What about a panoramic view of the property, which is beautiful, by the way, then a…well, almost a realistic tour of the architect’s models.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “Are there other centers like these?”
“Several,” he said. He seemed mesmerized. It gave her courage.
“Maybe someone could do some filming at one of them, show the children engaging in activities there, a clip of the kids having dinner at one of the houses—I thought of that because dinner is such fun here, a high point in the boys’ days. No close-ups of their faces, of course,” she added in a hurry, “for obvious reasons, but maybe a clip of them in their recreation center, and on their playing fields, and maybe even one of them piling into the bus that takes them to school every day.”
She’d been letting her gaze wander as ideas spilled out, but now she focused on him and found him staring back at her.
“It’s my turn to say, ‘Wow,’” he said after a long pause. He began to pace. “You are so right.”
A thrill ran through her. He’d listened to her, and he liked what he’d heard. It made her feel more worthwhile than she’d felt in years.
He went on, “There’s a guy in the valley who could do it, Ray Colloton, lives in LaRocque. I think he’d give us a good price. We could fly him to one of the centers….”
He stopped pacing and sat down, looking her straight in the eyes. “Maybe you could go with him and show him what we want.”
“Oh, I couldn’t,” she said. “I have a job to do here.”
“I,” Daniel said, pointing in the direction of the clinic, “have a job to do there.”
“I know how busy you are. I have no idea how you can keep up your practice and give this project what it needs. The details, the endless details, are simply staggering.”
His gaze hadn’t wavered. “Think you could handle a few of them for me?”
Chapter
Seven
Lilah stared at him. “I’d like that coffee now,” she said.
At least she hadn’t said no or argued that she already had enough to do. “Coming right up,” Daniel said, “so don’t go away.”
He got the coffee started, then thought he’d better wait for it with Lilah in his line of sight so she couldn’t escape. He went back to the living room, and there he found her gazing at a blank wall. “Hello?” he said. “Are you still with us here on earth?”
She shot him a smile and seemed to relax. “To answer your question, of course I’m happy to help in any way I can. The house is running smoothly, and I have time to think about the center, too.”
“You wouldn’t feel imposed upon?”
“Of course not. I’m full-time. I’ll use that time however you want me to.” A shadow crossed her face. “Is the coffee just about ready?” she asked, sounding as if she really needed it.
As always, he had no idea what he might have said to cause her sudden look of doubt. “I imagine so.” The coffee wasn’t, quite, so he waited and watched it drip while he pondered her contradictions, her happiness, her unexpected moments of…of what? Worry? Sadness? Was she grieving for her husband?
The muscles of his back knotted. How did that scar on her forehead fit into the picture?
He relaxed a bit and laughed at himself. His knee-jerk reaction to protect the young and the helpless had probably made him imagine the scar was a result of abuse. She’d probably fallen on the ice or been thrown by a horse. And of course she’d be grieving for her husband.
He’d felt her response to him, though, the few times he’d accidentally touched her. The truth was, he’d like to touch her on purpose. What he wanted…He suddenly knew what he wanted, and it unnerved him. He wanted to take her in his arms, hug her tight and kiss her. The way her full pink lips had opened as she gazed so raptly at his presentation—maybe even at him—had opened up something in him he’d wanted to keep closed.
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