Sam bit her lower lip and concentrated hard on the day lily before her. Somehow she had to make Kevin part of his family again. She threw the plant into her bucket and stood, mopping her forehead with the back of her hand.
“Sure is hot.”
“You think so?” he asked. “It’s warm, but I didn’t think it was hot.”
Sam turned away and swallowed the laughter that wanted to bubble up. Her mind had been working on solving Kevin’s problems, but her body had been busy reacting to his presence. The day may not have been hot, but somebody sure was.
“I guess the temperature is pretty close to normal for this time of the year,” Sam agreed.
“Want to stop and have something to drink?”
“Naw. I’m tough. I can take it.”
Kevin went back to splitting the day lily he’d dug up and Sam snuck a long glance at him. Was working in Debbie’s garden hard for him? Were they keeping it alive for her in his mind, or tearing it apart?
“Oh, hell,” Kevin said. “I don’t remember what color these things are.”
As if in a haze, Sam looked down at the long green leaves. “It doesn’t matter.”
“You don’t know what you’re getting.”
She laughed, sounding a tad high even to her ears. Wasn’t that true in just about everything? “Oh, I don’t mind. It’s not like I’m a total innocent, you know.”
He looked bewildered.
“Hey,” she said. “I knew day lilies were done blooming by now, so I was taking potluck. I have no problem with that.”
“Oh.” His grin spread across his lean face. “That’s good.”
There was something in his eyes that teased her, awoke longings to take him in her arms and forget all about the day lilies. But a little worm of common sense took over. Throwing herself into his arms was not what she’d come here for.
“Let’s get back to work,” she said. “We should be done in another half hour at the most.”
They started back to their digging. They worked well together, not needing much talk to get the job done. But that didn’t mean she was about to forget that he was near. She tried concentrating on—
“How about dinner tomorrow night?”
She forgot whatever it was she’d been concentrating on. “Dinner?” she repeated as if she wasn’t sure what that was.
“I know it’s short notice,” he said. “So I’ll take a rain check if you can’t make it.”
Dinner would be a better place for him to relax. A place where there’d be no lingering memories of Debbie to haunt him. Except…
“I’m afraid I can’t,” she said. “I’m in charge of the kids’ summer-theater program at the library. We’re putting on our final play tomorrow night.”
“Oh.”
It didn’t have to be one or the other, though. “I’ll be done by eight-thirty,” she added.
“Eight-thirty?”
Sam tried to keep her disappointment in her stomach and off her face. “Yeah, I know it’s late.”
“Not at all. It’s okay.” He put on that grin again. “I get to stay up as late as I want on Wednesday and Saturday.”
“Great. We can use the first of our dinner coupons.”
“Those are yours to use as you want,” he said. “This dinner will be on me.”
“They belong to both of us. We just have to decide where to go.” She bent back to the task of splitting the day lilies. Over dinner she would find a way to make him open up.
Chapter Six
“Well, a jolly good-morning to you, too,” Cindy said to Kevin.
He came to a stop at his office door and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before turning back toward his secretary. “All I said was good-morning. Just like I do every morning.”
“No.” Cindy shook her head. “Not like you do every morning. This was brusque.”
“It was not.”
“Must be my ears,” she said stonily and turned her attention to papers on her desk. “George Lewis called in sick this morning.”
This quick change of subject indicated that Cindy knew she was right and didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Which was fine with him. Just because Kevin was having minor second thoughts about getting involved with Sam, he certainly wasn’t letting it affect his general demeanor.
“His allergies acting up again?” Kevin asked.
“Yes. He doesn’t think he’ll be in until Monday.”
“I’m sure things will clear up by then. He’s usually not off more than a couple of days.” He was about to go into his office but paused. “He didn’t have anything pressing, did he?”
“He was scheduled for a commercial-loan subcommittee meeting at the Indiana Bankers’ Association headquarters in Indianapolis. You’ll have to—”
“I’ll go.”
“I was going to say that you’ll have to send someone else in his place.”
“I said, I’ll go.”
Cindy’s face tightened and Kevin steeled himself for another reprimand—something about the inappropriateness of a bank officer at his level and size of bank attending a subcommittee working session. He should send a representative; a representative who was subordinate to him.
Well, Kevin knew all that, but so what? Sometimes an executive had to get out and mingle. Sometimes he had to…had to just get out.
“Get me George’s files on his last two meetings,” Kevin said, before stepping briskly into his office and shutting the door.
He had a lot of things to do. And now he had a lot less time to do them. That loan-committee approval meeting would have to be rescheduled for Monday. And he would have to—
He was supposed to have dinner with Sam tonight.
He fell heavily into his chair, conscious of the indecision churning about in the pit of his stomach.
Their first two dates had been just for fun, no strings attached. They had shared a few laughs and had a nice time. That had been it. No big deal.
And giving her the day lilies had been fine, also. The plants had needed to be thinned. Sure, he could have thinned them himself or, better yet, hired somebody to do it, but Sam and her father had needed some perennials. So he had actually been helping a client get her small business started. Something, as a bank officer, he was supposed to do anyway.
So since everything had been going along beautifully, why had he gone and spoiled everything? She’d already returned his favor. He’d crossed the line from good business to monkey business.
Time to pick up the phone and give Sam a call. Let her off the hook. Do her a big favor. Give the lady some time of her own so that she could go out and do something she really wanted to do.
Kevin picked up the phone, but instead of dialing Sam’s number at the inn, his finger hit the intercom button.
“Yes?”
Cindy’s voice was pleasant enough, although Kevin thought he could feel a certain tightness around the edges. “What time does that subcommittee meeting start?”
“Ten o’clock,” Cindy replied. “You’ll have to leave early in the morning. Around six-thirty.”
Six-thirty. He could still go out with Sam. Even having dinner at eight-thirty wouldn’t keep him out that late. Except his doubts were still alive and well.
“Make me a reservation at a hotel in Indianapolis for tonight and tomorrow night. I’ll leave this evening.”
“You can get to the meeting in plenty of time if you leave early in the morning.”
Kevin clenched his jaw tight for a moment. “I don’t want to chance being late.”
“What’s wrong with taking a chance once in a while? It puts a little excitement into your life.”
He suddenly felt tired. He did plenty of exciting things. Last summer, he’d spent three weeks running white-water rapids in Colorado. The summer before that, he’d gone on a camera safari to Africa. He’d sailed around the cape in a storm. He’d had a lot of excitement in his life.
“Cindy, just get me a room for tonight. Please.”
<
br /> His arm slowly fell and he let the receiver rest in its cradle. He could call Sam but that seemed rather cowardly. It would be better to tell her of his change of plans face-toface. Tell her the dinner was off. And not discuss an alternate date.
Unfortunately, his day was filled with meetings. And then he had that luncheon with the industrial planning group. There was no way to see Sam until tonight.
Sure, tonight would be rather short notice, but they hadn’t planned on anything special. They probably would have just popped down the street for a pizza. She probably wouldn’t care that he was canceling.
A slight nagging in the pit of his stomach told him he would care. But still it was for the best.
Kevin grimaced as he caught sight of the clock over the library’s main desk. Damn. He’d hoped he would be able to talk to Sam before the play started. He didn’t want to wait until it was over. Then it really was last-minute.
“Hey, fella. Watch it.”
“I’m sorry.” He had been so intent on getting into the auditorium that he’d almost run the woman over. The woman? Hell, everything was running in slow time for him, especially his brain. “Cassie. I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Boy, you look like you’re in a real hurry,” Cassie said with a laugh. “What did my little sister promise to get you so excited?”
For the first time in a decade, Kevin felt his cheeks grow warm from embarrassment. What the hell was it about these Scott women that could throw a man off his tracks? They were certainly a dangerous crew.
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Nothing at all.”
“Sure.” He didn’t much care for the smirk on Cassie’s face but he wasn’t about to encourage it by arguing. “That’s why you just about smashed me into the ground. For nothing.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Kevin protested and glanced around at the number of people that were moving around them into the auditorium. It looked like Sam’s show was a popular event. “Anyway, aren’t you going the wrong way? Why are you leaving?”
“The doctor told me not to take anything that might upset my stomach.”
Kevin looked quizzically at her.
“Just a weak attempt at humor,” Cassie explained. “Most of our nieces and nephews are in this play. And there ain’t a Scott living, adopted or biological, that’s any good as an actor.”
“Oh?”
“We’re so bad that the only way our kids get into something like this is through nepotism.”
“That makes me really anxious to see the show,” he said.
“Just don’t let Sam talk your bank into backing one of her shows,” Cassie told him and waved slightly as she moved away. “I’d better go or Sam’ll kill me. She sent me out to get one of the props from her car.”
“Bye.”
Kevin slipped into the auditorium. The chairs were rapidly being filled up by anxious family members. The sign on the stage proclaimed that Fractured Fairy Tales would be performed at seven-thirty. He glanced at his watch. It was almost 7:25.
He hurried over to the side door where stagehands were bringing on scenery. A number of kids were milling about in costume—princesses, witches, ogres and elves. He stepped through them and turned a corner. At the end of the hall was Sam with Cinderella and a fairy godmother.
They were obviously having a last-minute pep talk. And maybe some last-minute instructions. For as Kevin watched, Sam began to recite lines that must be from the play. Her eyes were fiery and intense, her heart on display for all to see.
Right before his eyes, she was transformed into Cinderella—no costume necessary. Then, in the blink of an eye, she became the fairy godmother.
The really amazing thing was her voice. He suspected she could read a grocery list and make it sound exciting. Or scary. Or tragic. He had never seen someone who was so naturally an actress.
Yet Cassie had said they all were terrible on stage. Did Sam freeze and could only act in private?
“Kevin, hi.” Sam gave him a robust wave, indicating that he should come over. “I didn’t know you were going to come see the show.”
“Uh, I needed to talk to you.”
“Oh, sure.” She took a misshapen set of antlers from a woman who was trying to bend them back into shape. “This is Mrs. Jakosey. She’s our costume person and sergeant at arms.”
“Hi,” the woman said with a quick smile.
“I can take care of this,” Sam told her. “Why don’t you go help the mice with their whiskers?”
“So, what’s up?” Sam asked, as the other woman hurried away to corral some gray-clothed kids.
“This is quite a scene back here,” Kevin said.
Sam shrugged. “They’re just a little excited, not dangerous. Nothing to worry about.”
“I know you’re pressed for time, but something’s come up.” He grimaced slightly. “I was wondering if I could take a rain check on tonight’s dinner.”
She gazed at him for a moment as he cursed himself internally. Damn it. He wasn’t supposed to ask for a rain check. He was supposed to call it off.
“I have to go to Indianapolis tonight,” he told her.
“That’s just as well.” She gave him a quick smile. “The kids want me to go for pizza with them and their parents after the show.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Kevin replied.
“I didn’t find out until I got here tonight.”
He smiled. “So they want to stay out and party?”
Sam glanced back at the horde of minipeople behind her. “It sure looks like it.” She turned back to Kevin and put a hand on his arm. “And I’m afraid it might get a little wild.”
“Probably too wild for a banker.”
“Depends on the banker.”
Her eyes flashed and for a moment Kevin wondered what they were trying to tell him. But he probably didn’t want to know. Or shouldn’t know. Or it wasn’t worth knowing, anyway. Maybe all of the above.
“So, it’s a good thing that I have to go out of town?”
“I don’t know if it’s a good thing,” she said with a shrug. “But it’ll probably be a lot easier on your nerves.”
“Why don’t we get together Friday night?” Damn. He wasn’t supposed to do that. “I mean, if I get back in time.”
“That would be fine. Give me a call.”
She hurried back to her kids and Kevin watched with something that almost felt like jealousy. Did she care that he’d broken the date? Did she hope he would get back early on Friday, or was she just being polite?
He wanted to rush after her and say he’d changed his mind. He wanted to confess that he could leave later, or even in the morning. But he knew that what was best and what he wanted were miles and miles apart.
“Morning, Dad.”
Her father lifted his head from his morning paper and gazed up at Sam over the tops of his glasses. “What are you doing up so early? Can’t you sleep?”
“I slept quite well.” She shuffled over to a chair across from her father and dropped into it.
The early-morning sun was filling their dinette/sunroom with a golden light, as Sam tried to avoid her father’s curious gaze. “Goodness,” she said, concentrating her attention on a willow down toward the lake. “Some of the leaves are changing color already. It seems too early.”
“You look a little peaked around the edges, sweetheart.”
Sam curled her bare feet around the chair legs. “You know I’ve never been a late sleeper.”
There was little doubt in her mind that her father was looking at her, but Sam refused to break. She just kept on staring out at that big old willow in their backyard. If she made eye contact with her father, she was a goner.
A grunt from across the table indicated that he’d gone back to reading his paper. Sam let out a slow, silent sigh of relief.
Actually, she had had a very active night. Her dreams had carried her across town to Kevin’s house, but it had been surrounded by a high wall. And althoug
h she could see him and he would talk to her, he never would come down from the wall.
When she’d finally decided she would have to climb it, she kept slipping down. Finally she was crying and kicking at it like a little kid having a tantrum. But it didn’t matter. Kevin kept himself out of reach.
Fortunately, Sam had awoken. Or maybe not so fortunately. She’d lain in a moody tangle of sheets, yearning for someone she’d convinced herself was just a friend. But it was only a dream.
She’d kept telling herself that as she showered. Then, once she was cleaned and dried, Sam had sat by her window and watched the new day come. Watched and wondered what it would bring. It would bring the same thing yesterday had brought and the day before that: everything she needed and wanted. She had a full life.
Well, maybe not everything. But certainly what she could handle. It had been crazy of her to think she could somehow help Kevin. It had been crazy of her to want to get involved.
“You want me to fix you something?” her father asked.
“No.” She shook her head. “I have a lot of stuff to do. I’ll just have some cereal.”
“If you have a lot to do, you should have a good breakfast.” He got up from the table. “We have loads of blueberries. I’ll make you some crepes and fill them with fruit.”
“Dad, you don’t have to—”
But he was already moving. Her father wasn’t the type to bustle around, but once he put himself in motion, he was hard to stop. Besides, now that she thought about it, blue-berry crepes sounded good.
“I’ll have some orange juice,” she said, getting up to set the table and get her drink.
It was just as well that Kevin had canceled their dinner. Going out with the kids from the play wasn’t something she could have backed out of. But at the same time, she wouldn’t have felt comfortable bringing him along. Sure, he was a father, but his kids were out of high school. Old enough so that he probably would have forgotten how rambunctious grade-school kids could be.
“Aren’t you going to work?” her father asked. “I thought tomorrow was your day off.”
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