by Leah Vale
"Yeah, right," Juliet mumbled.
Tucking the hand of the strikingly beautiful older woman in the crook of his arm, he escorted her around the car as she smoothed the wrinkles from her navy-blue silk pantsuit with her other hand. The woman Juliet assumed to be his sister, equally beautiful and looking like something straight from a Ralph Lauren catalog in chinos and yellow silk blouse with a matching scarf, hung back. "And I can't think of anyone I'd rather show him off to first than my favorite grandmother."
"I'm your only grandmother now, darling," the older woman chided, her voice as rich and smooth as her grandson's.
Juliet looked into the sharp, dark-green gaze of the petite, well-preserved old lady, and the heat in her cheeks grew hotter. This woman knew. She knew the whole story.
A sinking feeling pulled at Juliet's belly. How could she talk to his grandmother knowing the woman would be judging her? The people in Juliet's world were aware that she had only been with a man once, but Harrison's family didn't know it.
Harrison himself claimed to believe it, though, and his faith gave her the courage to stand her ground, hot cheeks, bare feet and all.
But the quick, subtle once-over his grandma gave Juliet as she approached her appeared more curious than judgmental.
Harrison slipped his grandma's thin, veined hand, the only place she really showed her age, from his arm into his own. "Grandmother, I'd like you to meet Juliet Jones. Juliet, this is my grandmother, Dorothy Rivers."
Dorothy reached for Juliet's hand with her free one, her grip warm and surprisingly strong. "It's a pleasure, Jones." Although she said it like she meant it, Juliet doubted she did.
"Considering... everything," Juliet left the obvious and embarrassing unsaid, "you should call me Juliet. Or Julie, if you'd like."
Dorothy slid her hand from Juliet's and cleared her throat as if uncomfortable with the blatant reminder of the circumstances of their acquaintance. Juliet shoved her hands in the front pockets of her jeans and glanced at Harrison.
He returned her gaze and smiled softly. "No, not Julie. Juliet."
The rock that had settled in her gut lightened somewhat. He could make her feel better with so little effort. She didn't dare think what it would be like to have him really try to make her feel good.
Seeming to recover from her lapse in manners, Dorothy reached back out and patted Juliet's arm. "That's a beautiful and fitting name, my dear."
Juliet shuffled her feet, then wished she hadn't when it reminded her they were bare. "Thank you," she murmured, and hoped no one looked down.
The younger woman stepped forward with a proffered hand. "And you can call me Ashley. I'm Harrison's sister." She flashed a stunningly perfect smile as she shook Juliet's hand and gave her the once-over as smoothly as her grandmother had, only she did a bad job of hiding the curiosity in her blue-green eyes.
Juliet certainly didn't have to guess where this woman's interest came from. Ashley was probably dying to know what Juliet had that would make Harrison cross the tracks and dip his privileged self in such a shallow gene pool. She also probably couldn't wait to catch a glimpse of
whatever moral deficiency Juliet had that made her willing to get it on with a guy she hadn't known.
Juliet looked back to Harrison and admitted that, to the casual observer, his looks alone could easily be blamed for what had happened. A man as compelling as Harrison should be kept under lock and key. Any guy who could reduce a girl to mush just by running his big, warm hand up the nape of her neck and whispering how beautiful he thought she was shouldn't be allowed out into the general population.
Juliet raised her arm to shadow her eyes and cover her heated cheeks as she looked back at the two women. "It's nice to meet you."
Nathan saved her from having to come up with anything else by squealing, "Mama!" and throwing a fistful of dirt into the air. He giggled in delight when the grime fell onto his once-clean pant legs.
"Oh," Dorothy breathed softly and grabbed Harrison's sleeve. Her expression held so much excitement and joy the gentle lines on her face virtually disappeared. "Is that him?"
"Yes, Grandmother. That's my son," Harrison answered thickly, pride dripping from every word.
Juliet felt her heart start to come apart in her chest.
Dorothy released her grandson's sleeve and brought her hand up to her pale cheek. "Ohh. Oh, my, oh, my. You were so right, Harrison. He's beautiful. Absolutely beautiful." And as if Nathan sang a Siren's song, the grand dame of the Rivers family moved toward him. She stopped a few feet from the seated toddler, stretching both hands down to him like one of the wise men at the Nativity.
Nathan responded by placing a small fistful of soil mined from the base of the tree into one of her open hands and uttered something close to "dirt."
Juliet started to groan, but stopped at the sound of Harrison's grandmother's delighted giggle.
"Why, thank you," she cooed to the child. "Yes, it is dirt, isn't it?" Dorothy Rivers glanced back over her shoulder at them, her eyes misty with emotion. "He's sharing with me." Turning back to Nathan, she stated knowingly, "And such good dirt, too. Just right for throwing up in the air," she sing-songed and tossed her handful straight up in the air. Both child and great-grandmother shrieked their pleasure as the dirt rained down on them.
Juliet's jaw dropped. Dirt throwing? That was absolutely, positively, the last thing she would have expected.
"What a cutie," Ashley said, and went to join the laughing pair under
the tree. Her silk blouse and jauntily tied scarf didn't stand a chance. Harrison's deep chuckle brought Juliet's attention to him. She snapped her mouth shut at the sight of his handsome face made even more gorgeous by his expression. His sensuous mouth sported a wide grin that showed all his straight, white teeth, and his full-lashed eyes crinkled adorably at the corners. Arms crossed over his big chest, he rocked back on his heels in amusement like a well-pleased king.
As if sensing she was looking at him, he said, "I knew she'd be great with him, I just didn't know she'd be that great."
Juliet looked back to her son and his great-grandmother and gasped when she saw that the woman had dropped down on her knees next to the toddler and was scooping up fresh handfuls of dirt.
"Oh, jeez," Juliet moaned and rushed toward them, thinking Harrison's grandmother would later regret her impulsiveness when she realized she'd ruined her expensive suit.
" Rivers, please, this blanket is clean if you'd like to sit here." Juliet snatched up the edge of the pilled, blue blanket and started to pull it toward the older woman. "Or if you'd like, I could run inside and get you a chair?"
She waved Juliet off with a grubby hand. "No, no, dear. I'm fine right here. And please, call me Dorothy."
The afternoon sun glinting off the large diamond ring Rivers wore on her aged finger caught Juliet's gaze. The clean brilliance of it defied the film of dust and stood out against the brown dirt on her knuckles. A now-familiar tightness seized Juliet's chest at the reminder of how different she and Nathan were from Harrison and his family. No matter how down and dirty they got, the Riverses would always be rich and cultured and privileged and she and her baby were...well, they weren't any of those things.
She took a deep breath to loosen the squeeze reality always put on her insides. "But your beautiful suit...it'll be ruined."
"Oh, pish. What's a little dirt?" Dorothy looked up at Juliet andpaused, mid dirt toss, to consider her for a moment. "Besides," she continued gently, "getting to know this little angel on his terms is far, far more important than this old wad of fabric and thread." She glanced from Ashley to Harrison, who had wandered over to join them. The three exchanged a silent look that had Juliet nervously shifting her weight on her bare feet again.
Did they think she cared more about clothes than making her child happy? Juliet gritted her teeth and wished, for the millionth time, that life had a rewind button.
"Harrison," Dorothy finally addressed her grandson. "Why don't you tak
e Juliet for a long walk and let Ashley and me have some aunt and great-grandma time. That is," Dorothy looked back to Juliet, "if it's acceptable to Juliet."
All sorts of alarm bells went off in Juliet's head, but while she tried to figure out if leaving Nathan alone with the Rivers women was worse than her going off alone with Harrison, he answered for her.
"I suppose that would be fine. Clearly he isn't going to give me a second look with turbo great-grandma here to entertain him."
"And me," Ashley interjected, crouching down next to Nathan. "I'm sure Aunt Ashley can scare up some real ants for us to play with."
"Bugs!" Nathan shouted in delight.
Ashley wrinkled her perfect nose and tweaked Nathan on his tiny one. "That's right. We'll find us some great big bugs."
Harrison laughed and turned to Juliet and offered her one of his large, strong hands.
Staring at it, she stammered, "I... I... don't think-"
"Come on." He took a step and grabbed her hand, his warm fingers threading through hers. "Just for a little bit. Don't worry," he reassured her, looking deep into her eyes and reeling her heart in like a fish on a hook. He tried to pull her forward, his expression screaming trust me.
Juliet pulled back on his hand and dug in her bare heels, knowing she didn't dare. His mere presence affected her so deeply her heart would never survive his focused attention.
But Nathan glanced up at her and waved. "Bye-bye, Mommy. Bye-bye." "See?" Harrison whispered. "It'll be okay. Come on." Juliet relented and let him pull her toward the road, feeling helpless against the tide of change and uncertainty swirling around her. "I thought you wanted to get to know Nathan," she said, picking her way over the sharp gravel.
"I do," he threw over his shoulder. "But I have more time than Grandmother does."
"What?" Juliet yanked on his hand to stop him. She looked back at the woman drawing in the dirt with Nathan as Ashley poked at the tree for bugs. While she didn't look ill, Juliet knew Dorothy Rivers had to be pretty old and could have all sorts of health problems.
"No, no. She's not dying or anything," he correctly guessed her train of thought. "At least not anytime soon. She's as healthy as a horse. She routinely creams me in golf."
When she turned back to him, he grinned that grin at her. The one that had lured her off the balcony in the first place. Her temperature shot up a few thousand degrees.
Obnoxiously oblivious to his effect on her, he continued, "But she doesn't drive much anymore, and she runs about a dozen charities, so it'll be more difficult for her to get up here to visit than for me."
"Yeah, because all you have to do is prove you can run a multimillion-dollar company."
His grin faded. He turned and headed them toward the river again. "Don'tworry," he repeated, and checked the highway in both directions. "I'll have plenty of time to get to know Nathan as well as you do." He darted across the road, pulling her along at a run behind him.
She really hated when he said things like that. He sounded way too much like a father planning on living with his son. Of course, he wouldn't have hauled his beloved grandma and sister up here if he intended to take Nathan away from her, would he?
She looked up from the ground to watch the way the muscles in his broad back moved beneath his beige polo shirt. She remembered how those muscles had felt beneath her fingertips. Smooth and hard. She had trusted him so completely that day two years ago.
She wanted desperately to trust him now, to believe he wasn't lying to her and that he wouldn't take Nat away from her. And he might not. But could she really bear to have him visit every weekend with the memory of his fingertips on her body? Thinking about how his hot breath had felt when he'd buried his face in the crook of her neck and arched his strong back to ease into her, filling both her body and soul?
Juliet stumbled down the path to the riverbed. Only Harrison's firm grip on her hand kept her from crashing headfirst onto the rocks separating the river from the trees and bushes growing on the slope below the road.
"Whoa, there," he laughed, reaching his other hand to catch her waist and bring her up against him to stop her fall.
With images of their lovemaking vivid in her mind and his body pressed against hers, Juliet's knees refused to support her.
He affected her exactly the same now as that first time. Every inch of him was electric, thrilling her where they touched. And his eyes, so like the river flowing silently beside them, pulled her in, lured her away from her convictions with the promise of pleasure and security.
She didn't know how long she leaned against him, staring into the bottomless depths of his eyes, but when his head dipped toward her, her knees locked and she pulled away. Hadn't she learned her lesson the first time? While she would definitely find pleasure in his arms, she wouldn't find the security she needed above all else. The situation was too uncertain, his attraction to her undoubtedly as fleeting as before.
He dropped his hands from her and looked away as if he had come to his senses, also. Who was she kidding? He probably couldn't believe she was practically throwing herself at him again.
With a cough he cleared his throat. "You okay? You didn't twist an ankle or anything?"
"No. I'm fine. Just peachy." She took a few more steps away and pushed her hair back from her face. She had to get a grip. Heading for her favorite rock, she took several deep breaths to slow her pulse.
"This sure is a great spot," he said from right behind her.
"Yeah, it is." She didn't look at him as she hoisted herself up to her seat and tried to pretend she didn't care when he propped his hip on her rock, his big, warm body inches from hers. But she did care. She cared so much she wanted to cry from the wanting, the needing.
Get over it, she scolded herself.
Harrison tried to focus on the dark-green water slipping by in front of him, but the woman seated next to him clamored for his attention on so many levels.
He didn't know what to think. One minute she looked at him as if he was the embodiment of the next great plague, then she beckoned him to get lost in the sun-warmed richness of her eyes. Maybe he was imagining things. His body sure was. Every inch of him was at attention, waiting for contact with her.
He drew in a deep breath of the fresh air and tried to stop thinking about making love with Juliet. The air down here reminded him of the earth after a drenching rain-clean, moist, lush. Like Juliet's mouth. He gave himself a shake and buried his hands in the pockets of his black pants.
"Cold?"
He latched on to the safe, uncomplicated subject. When in doubt talk about the weather. "No, not really. But it is quite a bit cooler down here than it is up at the store. It must be nice to be able to escape the late summer heat."
"I escape a lot of things down here." She brought her knees up to her chest.
Uh-oh. He knew that position. He didn't want to put her on the defensive, but he desperately wanted to get to know her. To understand. The most likely subject to give him an insight into her character was probably one of the least pleasant. He had to start somewhere, though.
"Your family drives you nuts, huh?"
She slanted him a wary look. "Doesn't yours?"
"Just my dad."
"Mm."
Harrison readjusted his hip on the boulder, thinking he shouldn't have phrased his question about her family the way he had. "Have they always..." He struggled to describe her family without offending her.
"Just sat around?" she supplied neatly for him.
He shrugged apologetically.
"Believe it or not, no." She propped an elbow on her knee and rested her chin in her hand. "When Grandpa was alive, everyone had a job, of sorts. My brother worked up at the sawmill. He pulled logs on the green chain."
"That would explain his size."
"He lost that job over five years ago when they closed the mill."
"Oh."
She smiled. "He's all muscly now because he and his friends have a bunch of weights set up in the back
of the garage they supposedly work at. Instead of fixing cars, they mostly just drink beer and pump iron."
Harrison thought it best not to comment.
She stared at the water for a moment before adding, "The closing of that mill affected a lot of folks in this area."
Even though none of Two Rivers's pulp suppliers were located on the McKenzie, he nonetheless felt the need to explain why such things happened. "They probably had to shut that one mill to keep from having to close all of them. I've had to do it myself to keep our company's bottom line healthy if a particular mill is too big a drain."
"Well, it didn't do much for our bottom line." He didn't miss the censure in her tone. "Although Willie is supposed to start working at another mill sometime soon, I guess. That will help." She shrugged. "Mom used to do a halfway decent job with the store, but without Grandpa
there to kick her in the rear now and then, she just sits at our kitchen table most of the time. Willie thinks she's counting the gold Formica speckles, but I think she's just sitting there."
"Maybe she's still mourning your grandfather. That was her dad, right?"
Surprise crossed her face, then she nodded. "Yeah, he was." She gave him a speculative look.
"What about your father?"
She shrugged again. "Mom didn't know which of her boyfriends to point the finger at, so she left that particular line blank on my birth certificate. But it's okay. I had Grandpa."
Harrison looked down at her, watching the breeze that rose off the water lift the sun-honeyed hair away from her beautiful face like an angel's sigh. Nothing she had told him about her family surprised him in the least. Their backgrounds fit with his perceptions of them. But nothing about Juliet fit. There was something about her that made her seem different from the other two. "And what about you, Juliet?"
"Me?"
"Yes, you."
She lifted her chin from her hand and started to fidget, then wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled them tight to her chest as if to still herself. Or go into defense mode. "I'm just Nathan's mommy. Fortunately, I can be that and mind the store at the same time." A wry smile flitted across her full lips. "Though don't expect the canned beans to ever be on the shelves. I made the mistake of using them when I started teaching Nat how to count.