“MR. WILCOX,” JASON SAID, looking extremely earnest, “it’s great you’re doing this. Being a football star and all, you must know all about the equipment the center will need.” He gave Ed an easy grin. “And I just got a car, so there’s nothing I like better than driving it. This’ll be fun. Well, thanks for breakfast, Daniel. I’d better head out to soccer camp.” He held out his hand to Ed. “Great to meet you, Mr. Wilcox.”
Daniel said goodbye and waited, his heart in his throat.
“Seems like a nice enough kid,” Ed muttered. “Ay-uh, he’ll be okay. Miss!” He summoned the waitress. “Have anything like a cinnamon roll or a…”
Bingo.
EACH WEDNESDAY WHEN THE Northeast Kingdom’s paper came out, Lilah scanned the news online. There had been no further mention of Bruce. This could be a good sign or a bad one. He must be working somewhere. She assumed he’d been left as penniless as she was, but maybe not. For all she knew, he’d stashed away money in a Swiss—or Cayman Islands—bank account.
She went on to the News from Whittaker column. “Eleanor McDougal was admitted to the hospital on…”
Mrs. McDougal had been her home care patient these past three years. Lilah had loved her. At ninety-four, comatose and fading away, this might be her last trip to the hospital. Lilah wanted to do something for her—a note to her son?
No, a note would have a postmark, and Mrs. McDougal’s son, at least, would know where she was. Yes, Lilah was being paranoid, but if she made a mistake, she’d pay the price of Bruce’s finding her and Jonathan.
Flowers. If she went to a florist here, paid cash and didn’t put her name on the card, maybe she could get away with it.
“I have a quick errand to run,” she told Jesse. “I need…colored pencils.”
“Would you pick up a couple of pounds of butter while you’re out? And ten pounds of flour? Oh, yeah, I’d feel better if we had a backup jar of mustard. I’m using the last one. And, let’s see…”
Lilah sighed, got out her notebook and made a list.
At the Rose Red florist shop, she selected the types of flowers she wanted in the arrangement—flowers that were blooming now in Vermont. Lush pink peonies, deep-purple irises, accented with delicate white sprigs of lily-of-the-valley. “The florist in Whittaker will have these flowers,” the Churchill florist said. “It will be a beautiful gift.”
“It will have the Whittaker florist’s name on it, won’t it?” Lilah was still feeling nervous about what she was doing.
“Yes,” Melinda said, looking miffed. “Even though I was the one who helped you design it. What message for the card?”
“‘Please feel better,’” Lilah told her. “‘I miss you.’ And that’s it.”
“Got it. It will be delivered tomorrow.”
When she got home, she had phone calls to make. “Mike?” she said, when he answered with a cheerful, “Mike’s Diner.”
“Hey, Lilah.” He paused. “Everything okay there?”
She’d never phoned him before, and he sounded worried.
“Everything’s great,” she assured him. “I called because I want to give Daniel a surprise birthday party, and I’d like to know what you think about that.”
“Great idea,” Mike said. He sounded surprised himself. “It will embarrass the heck out of him. What can I do to help?”
Those few words made her feel amazingly good. “Thanks so much,” she said gratefully, “but we think we can…”
“Come on. What we do here is cook. Maury and I can do some of it ahead of time and store it here.”
“I have to admit that would be a big help.” Daniel’s brother being nice to her gave her the wonderful feeling that he’d accepted her. “Any ideas about what Daniel likes most? I’m still thinking about the menu.”
“Sure, but it might give me a kick to present him with the things he likes least.” Mike chuckled. “Come by the diner tomorrow afternoon when Maury’s here and the lunch crush is over, and the three of us will put together a menu.”
“Thanks,” she told him. “I’ll be there.”
“How are you going to surprise him when he works right there in the house?”
She swallowed hard. “The boys suggested Ian might come up with a sick sheep. Daniel would run to the rescue and…”
Mike’s chuckle escalated into a burst of laughter. “Let me know how the conversation goes,” he snorted.
“I was hoping,” her voice faltered, “you might ask him.”
“Nope, you ask him,” Mike said, and was still laughing when he hung up on her.
Then she had a brilliant idea.
“You want me to call Uncle Ian?” Nick said.
Lilah had surmised that Ian and Nick had some special bond, maybe because they were both so closed inside themselves. From Nick’s smile when Ian picked up the phone, Lilah gathered that Ian hadn’t growled. “We’re gonna give Daniel a surprise birthday party.”
Nick’s smile grew wider. Then he said, “But you have to help. If we’re gonna surprise him, you have to have a sick sheep.” After a long pause, he said, “Because you live the farrest away and if you had a sick sheep he’d come, even on his birthday.” Another pause. “Can you think of something else?” Another pause, and then, “Thanks, Uncle Ian. Lilah will call you to tell you the time and all that.” Another pause, but this one was Nick’s. “When are you coming over next?”
Nick had obviously liked Ian’s answer. “He’ll do it,” Nick reported, his bright-green eyes shining. “He says he doesn’t ever have any sick sheep and Daniel knows it, but he’ll think of something else.”
“Bless you, Nick,” Lilah said, hugging him, and, seeing that Jonathan beamed as brightly as if she were hugging him. “You did it!”
“I like Uncle Ian,” Nick said.
“We all like Uncle Ian,” Jonathan said.
There was something in Ian that Lilah hadn’t penetrated yet. She should work on it, and keep working on her relationship with Mike, because if you married a man, you married his family, too.
Married? Where had that come from?
“Mom, why are you blushing?”
“It’s gotten so hot in here,” Lilah said, and scurried to the cleaning closet to get the furniture polish.
WHEN DANIEL WOKE UP from a restless sleep, his first thought was about Lilah, how right she’d been about winning over Ed and Virginia, how smart she was, how…totally appealing.
His second thought was that Elmer Winslow was bringing in his six-month-old husky mix to be neutered. Funny that men acted so squeamish on these occasions, while women seemed rather cheerful about it. He might have to give Elmer a dose of the anxiety drug he kept on hand in case somebody’s pet panicked in the clinic waiting room.
Last of all, he realized it was his birthday. Not just his birthday, but his thirty-fifth birthday. The number depressed him for a minute, then he thought about the path he’d traveled in those thirty-five years.
He was the luckiest man alive was his conclusion, and with that in his mind, and thoughts of Lilah half-successfully shifted onto the back burner, he showered, shaved and dressed in the best of moods.
Feeling ready to face the day, Daniel strolled into the kitchen. Lilah turned from the stove to give him a brilliant smile and say, “Happy birthday! Jesse just told me.”
“Happy birthday,” Will said. He was already at the table, munching on dry cereal to stave off starvation until his real breakfast was ready.
“Thank you,” he muttered. “Had to tell, didn’t you?” he said to Jesse, who returned a defiant look from the counter where he was working.
Daniel looked at the counter. “Aw, no, Jesse, not a birthday cake. I want to ignore my birthdays. So you can just…”
Will pinned him down with soulful eyes. “We’d feel bad if you didn’t have a birthday cake.”
“Right,” Jonathan said as he stepped into the kitchen with Nick a half step behind him. “And besides, birthday cake is good.”
“It�
��s chocolate,” Will said reverently.
“You’re not cutting it to look like a cow.”
“I know at least that much,” Jesse retorted.
Daniel grumbled some more and kept grumbling as Maury and Jason joined them and annoyed him with still more birthday wishes.
It was pure pleasure to vanish into the clinic, where life was calm and—clinical. As always, he kept an eye on the window to watch the boys’ day shaping up. Lilah drove them to soccer camp this morning. Jesse was probably fixating on that darned cake.
Jesse brought them home at noon. Lilah was probably getting their lunch together.
Birthdays made him remember parts of his life he wanted to forget: made him realize he needed the comfort of predictability every bit as much as his boys did. Would he ever get past it completely? No. He could only remember it and then put it into the perspective of his life now, every day of his life.
Which he’d do right now. Spurred on by a delicious aroma, he stepped into the kitchen briefly to pick up something for lunch. He usually took it back to his office rather than eating with the boys in a preoccupied way. Lilah didn’t even spare him a glance. She was too busy trying to keep up with the Philly cheese steak sandwich demand. He put one on a plate, turned down the offer of French fries and coleslaw, and took a minute to stroll through the house.
It had been amazingly clean and neat since Lilah took over. The boys still helped on Saturday mornings, but she’d taught them how to do it right. Today it was downright gleaming.
He sighed. If she took a notion to leave, his life and the boys’ lives would take a severe downturn.
He wouldn’t think about it. She was here. He’d enjoy it while he could.
Mike called to wish him a happy birthday. Daniel snarled, “Thanks.” Just as he was thinking he might get away from the clinic early, Ian called.
“I need you to come out and take a look at my lambs. Oh, yeah, and happy birthday.”
“Thanks. What’s wrong with the lambs?”
“The lambswool didn’t come up to standard this year. I had to sell it cheap. It’s something they’re eating, or not eating.”
“Okay. When do you want me to come?”
“Right now.”
“On my birthday?”
“Don’t give me that bull—”
“Language.”
“That bull. I know what you think about your birthday.”
Daniel sighed. “Okay. I was about to close down, anyway.”
Twenty minutes later, his fingertips were rolling through the wool on a lamb. “Feels good to me.”
“Well, it isn’t. The lanolin level’s low. They’re not getting enough…something.”
“That isn’t my field, really,” Daniel said, rubbing the lamb behind its ears. He stood up, feeling the softness of his fingertips from the lanolin that Ian said wasn’t there. “The health of the lambs is, and this one looks great.”
Ian frowned. “At least come in and look at some catalogs. There are all kinds of vitamins and minerals that are supposed to increase fleece growth and improve quality, but I don’t want anybody scamming me.” He gave Daniel a pleading look that wasn’t anything like Daniel’s image of Ian. “If I lose my reputation with the buyers,” he said, “I’m sunk. The corporation’s income goes down. It affects all of us.”
“Okay, I’ll look at the catalogs with you, but I should be getting home soon. Hang on a sec.” He called to say he’d be late and that the kids should go ahead with dinner, then followed Ian into his office.
He’d never seen the guy so chatty. Of course, sheep were his passion—sheep and managing money—and maybe he was equally chatty with other sheep herders and wool merchants. It was almost seven when he said, “I think we’ve got your order wrapped up. I really have to go. The kids will think I’ve abandoned them.”
“Yeah,” Ian agreed. “Thanks for the advice. Sorry I used up so much of your birthday.”
“Sooner it’s over, the better,” Daniel said gruffly.
When he pulled into the driveway, everything was quiet. The boys were usually outside kicking soccer balls or pitching baseballs. They must have finished dinner, because the kitchen was dark. Lilah probably had them doing something like playing Scrabble. She wasn’t hurting their spelling abilities any, that was for sure.
He pulled into the carriage house beside the van and strode toward the side door. They couldn’t be playing games in the living room, because the downstairs was dark. Even though it would be light outside for another two hours, the shade of the maples made lights necessary by six. He glanced skyward. The upstairs was dark, too.
Oh, no. A power outage. With an eight-man household, a power outage was a crisis of the first order. That did it. He was getting the generator he’d been meaning to have installed for years. He dashed through the clinic door, then into the dark hallway. “Jesse, Lilah,” he shouted. “No electricity?”
Nobody answered. Had they all been abducted? His heart thudding, he grabbed a baseball bat from a stone crock that stood at the bottom of the stairs and started his search in the living room. The door was closed. Cautiously he inched it open, holding the bat high, and rushed into the room.
The room suddenly lit up, a camera flashed, and as he recoiled, startled beyond belief, more people than he could count yelled, “Surprise!”
Chapter Nine
“You sure caught me looking like a complete fool,” Daniel said, staring at the screen, on which his picture, complete with raised baseball bat and mouse-sees-snake expression, was on display. “Thanks loads, you guys.”
“You looked just like that,” Virginia Galloway said. “The camera doesn’t lie.”
“You looked worse,” Jason said. “The photo is actually kind of flattering.” He turned from the laptop to give Daniel an evil grin. Melissa Wilcox stood behind him, and Daniel gazed at her in awe. How the heck could Ed have fathered a girl this polite, cute and sweet? Life was full of contradictions, or maybe somehow Ed had managed to woo and win a wife just like Melissa. How in the world could he have managed that?
“Who’s responsible for all this?” Daniel asked, waving his arm toward the bustling scene.
“You know it wasn’t my idea,” Ian muttered.
“Accomplices do time, too,” Daniel said, glaring at him. “Lambswool crisis, my eye. Mike?”
Mike shrugged and delivered a slow smile. “My roasted asparagus, but not, absolutely not my idea.”
“Jesse?”
“Disobey the general? Never!”
An embarrassing number of guests were chortling at his photograph, but Lilah was just about the only one left of his adult “family” to accuse. “Your idea,” he said.
Her idea, too, to win over Virginia and Ed, and here they were at his birthday party, of all things, with Melissa Wilcox’s eyes shooting stars at Jason’s moonstruck face. He wanted his eyes to shoot stars, too. He wanted Lilah’s face to be moonstruck. He wanted her.
Which was why he had to stand here glaring at her. The entirety of him, heart, soul and inflamed body, needed that glare to hide behind.
But then he took another look at her. Her stomach was clenched so tightly she could have fit into Scarlett O’Hara’s dress with the seventeen-inch waist.
“Will you ever forgive me?” she asked, sounding as if she really was worried.
His heart sent a smile to replace the glare. “It’ll take time. Ten minutes, fifteen…”
She relaxed and returned the smile.
DANIEL COULD MANAGE A smile, but inside he felt sort of crumpled or melted, vulnerable, anyway. Mike and Ian seemed to sense that he’d withdrawn for a moment, was looking at the party from the outside, and they sidled over to him.
“We could have stopped her,” Mike said, “but not without telling her stuff we don’t want to tell.”
“It might be a good idea for us to go through a couple of things like this,” Ian surprised him by saying. “Might get a handle on some of that ‘stuff’ we all hav
e.”
“Examine my inner feelings? Get in touch with my feminine side?” But his voice cracked when he said it.
Each brother gripped his shoulder, then moved away.
Yeah, another step toward getting “a handle on that stuff.” Now he had more “stuff” to get a handle on, the unnerving knowledge that he was falling for Lilah and falling hard.
He turned down the heat that suddenly flooded him, squared his shoulders and scanned the room, deciding which group to join next. The house was filled to overflowing. Groups clustered at, on and around the picnic tables in the yard.
The boys had been allowed to invite their friends. Jason was still in the living room with Melissa. Daniel could glimpse Maury in the kitchen, aiming a self-conscious, adolescent grin toward the same pretty girl who’d come to his party. Lilah had invited everyone in Churchill he’d ever met, plus some spouses he hadn’t even seen before. She’d clearly had a lot of help with the guest list.
The food was stand-up fork food and it looked amazing. Maybe that’s what he should do next, sample it, but he felt too tense to eat. Back to the original idea—pick a group to join and turn on the charm.
Before he could do that, however, someone jangled a bell—a cowbell, he thought. The people who were gathered outside came indoors until everyone was sardined into the living room, the hall and all the way up the staircase.
It was Ed Wilcox who stood in front of the fireplace, ready to speak. He held a large vase in his hand, and Daniel dreaded to find out what was in it. A hand grenade? Jason’s thumb?
No, Jason was fine, standing close to Ed, with Melissa at his side.
“Folks,” Ed said, “a lot of us men don’t like presents, so Miz Lilah said on the invitation, ‘No gifts, except contributions to the foster-care center we’re building in the valley.’”
Wow. Ed had made a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn in the last week or so. He’d accepted the center, and he felt a part of it. He’d accepted Jason. Wilcox-wise, things were looking good. And what had Ed been talking about? Contributions to the center?
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