by Nancy Warren
He really was the strangest old guy. He seemed to be laughing at some kind of private joke throughout the whole interview. She thanked him dubiously and left.
She walked the block and a half to the bank, hoping Mary wouldn't treat a lone woman borrowing mortgage money as some kind of joke. She was just reaching forward to open the bank door when it banged into her and Jack came out. He jumped when he saw her and a guilty expression came over his face. As it should.
"Laura, are you all right?"
"Don't worry, Jack. It was a false alarm. I'm fine."
He seemed totally confused. "But the door…"
She raised her gaze skyward and whispered, "I got my period."
Pain flashed in his eyes; she was sure of it. "Did you go and get that pill thing?"
"My private affairs are none of your business." She stuck her nose in the air and stalked past him.
Or tried to.
He grabbed her shoulders and hauled her back, spinning her to face him, his eyes boring into hers. "Did you?"
She opened her mouth to tell him in stronger, more colorful terms to mind his own business, then saw something in his face that made her tell him the simple truth. "No. No, I didn't."
He let her go and his jaw unclenched enough for him to spit out, "I'm sorry." He strode away and Laura was left wondering just what that was all about. If he cared so much, why hadn't he tried a little harder to see her? And more to the point, why was she wasting time watching him walk away? She had business to attend to.
This time she made it through the door to the bank unmolested. When she entered the dim foyer and asked for Mary, no one questioned whether she had an appointment or made her wait all afternoon. She was ushered into the bank manager's tidy office almost immediately. Chalk up another one for small towns.
Mary rose and shook hands, waving Laura to a chair. "I'm so sorry, Laura. Losing the McNair House is a real blow to the community. I suppose you're here about your severance?"
"No. I'm here to buy the McNair House."
Mary made a choking noise. "I … I see."
"Is there spinach stuck in my teeth or something?" Laura ran her tongue over her front teeth to check.
Mary squinted at her in surprise. "I don't think so."
"Everywhere I go today, people keep smirking when they look at me. You, the real-estate agent … I don't get it. Is it my hair? A button undone?" She glanced down, but her buttons seemed in place, her fly was zipped up all the way. She looked questioningly at Mary. "What?"
"You look fine, Laura. I was, um, thinking about something else. So you want to buy the McNair House – good for you. I wish I could afford it. I think it's a very shrewd investment."
Laura nodded. "I've got a pretty good down payment, but I need approval for a mortgage before I submit a bid."
Mary pulled her keyboard closer and started tapping away. "The city finance committee is meeting next Friday to review all bids. They don't necessarily have to take the highest one, you know. They have the discretion to decide which bid is best for the city. The fact that you plan to restore an historic building rather than demolish it will work in your favor. You might also consider offering to open the house to the public on certain days of the year, for instance. That might help swing the committee in your favor even if the other bids are higher."
"Other bids? I thought there was just one."
Mary kept her eyes fixed on the computer screen. "I'm speaking hypothetically, of course. Here we are. I've pulled up a mortgage application. I'll ask you a series of questions, and we should be able to confirm your mortgage by late tomorrow, possibly earlier. Is that acceptable?"
"Yes. Thanks."
"Let's start with your current address."
* * *
Chapter 11
«^
Laura dropped her bid off at city hall on Thursday.
She'd included the price she was willing to pay, a list of improvements she planned to make, even a few of the interior sketches she'd already completed.
She wrote a fawning letter about how important McNair House was as a community landmark and how she planned to offer the home for charity events and hold open houses during Christmas and the tourist season.
After she'd returned from making her mortgage application, she'd decided not to tell Gran about her plans, after all. What a terrific surprise it would be.
Laura was amazed at how few qualms she had now that she'd decided to buy the house. Every time she looked at her grandmother she felt a surge of pleasure, knowing she would be there to look after the older woman she loved so much. Even the prospect of living on the same island as Jack didn't scare her anymore. In the past few weeks, she had finally grown up.
She and Gran spent days together choosing paint colors, new curtains and bedding. Then Laura hauled on her overalls and painted the bedroom and adjoining bathroom in soft blue, with a hand-painted wisteria border.
In the evenings, they sat and talked over tea and Gran's famous oatmeal cookies. One night they managed to get hold of Laura's mother at the commune in New Mexico where she was living with her latest boyfriend. She promised to come up and visit, real soon.
Maybe because she spent so much of the week inside Gran's house, or maybe because he was avoiding her, Laura didn't see Jack at all.
Which was just fine by her.
Friday, she washed the windows in Gran's bedroom and hung the new curtains they'd picked out, while she tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. Twice she ran to the top of the stairs and called down, "Was that the phone?"
The second time, Gran stomped to the bottom of the stairs and called up, "There's a phone in the bedroom. It was working yesterday. I believe it's still in order."
Once the bedroom was completely finished, and her grandmother had duly admired the new look, Laura had nothing much to do but wait and plan how she would spring her surprise.
"I wish you'd get your head out of the clouds, Laura," the old woman finally snapped. "I said I won't be home for lunch. That doesn't call for thanks."
"Sorry, Gran. I was thinking about something else."
"Like when you're going back to Seattle?"
"What? Oh, I'm not sure. I thought I'd stay on a few more days, if that's okay with you."
Gran raised her eyebrows. "I'm delighted. I just thought you had jobs waiting."
"I do. But I'd like to spend some more time here." She couldn't wait to tell Gran just how much time she was going to be spending in Laroche.
*
It was the mayor who called Laura Friday afternoon.
"Hello, Miss Kinkaide. It's Edward Marks here."
"Yes, sir." Her heart pounded with excitement. This was it. Her new life was about to start. She had saved the McNair House single-handedly.
"I'm sorry to inform you your bid was not successful." His cheerfully impersonal voice sounded like the weatherman's.
"What did you say?" Surely she hadn't heard him right.
"I'm sorry, Miss Kinkaide. You didn't get McNair House."
She felt as if he'd slapped her. "You mean you sold it to the developer? But he's just going to tear it down and build condos! You can't let that happen."
"I'm not at liberty to discuss the details. The buyer has asked the committee to keep his or her identity confidential. An announcement will be made at next week's council meeting. Good day, Miss Kinkaide."
He hung up before she could get her mouth to move.
What were they thinking of? Mary had said they would take other factors into consideration. It just didn't make any sense. Laura wished it wasn't Gran's afternoon to play bridge. That mayor's backside needed another good paddling.
Well, maybe Laura could talk some sense into him. She had a right to know why her bid wasn't good enough.
And if it had anything to do with her being a woman…
Determined to confront Mr. Marks at her best, she showered, took time over her hair and makeup and dressed in a cream cotton skirt and a lacy lavend
er sweater. Gathering her complete portfolio of designs for the McNair House and the preapproved mortgage documents, she jumped into her van and roared downtown.
She'd make somebody, somewhere, listen to her, show them all her ideas. She'd raise her offer, beg and plead if necessary. But she was going to save that house. As she marched toward the mayor's office, she spotted a familiar figure marching toward her from the opposite direction. He had a briefcase in his hands. They almost collided at the entrance to city hall.
Jack's face was creased in an angry frown. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here on business," she snapped back, furious that she was still so crazy about this man who made a habit of stomping all over her heart. He could at least pretend to be happy to see her. "What are you doing here?"
"Business."
"Well, mine's urgent." She tried to elbow past him into city hall.
"So's mine." He neatly hip-checked her out of the way and stomped through the doorway.
She was right behind him. "I can't believe you did that. If Gran saw you she'd—"
"This is business, honey. No gender biasing, remember?" His anger melted and his eyes glinted with suppressed humor.
"Please, Jack. My business really is important."
"More important than trying to buy the McNair House?"
Laura's jaw dropped. Suddenly all the funny looks and snickering she'd put up with when she was getting her bid together made sense. She'd been bidding against Jack.
"Don't tell me you were the successful bidder?" He'd already stolen her heart; now he'd as good as stolen the house from under her, too.
"No, my bid was rejected." The angry frown descended once more. "And I'm damn well going to find out why. I'll see you later." He walked toward the reception counter.
Laura followed.
He turned to her. "Look, I'm sorry, Laura," he said softly. "I know how much that house means to you. I'm not giving up. But, please, let me handle this."
"I told you, I have my own business at city hall," she informed him. "Like finding out why my bid was rejected."
It was Jack's turn to drop his jaw. Then his eyes crinkled.
"You and I were bidding against each other?"
Laura bit her lip. She wished he wouldn't look at her that way. It made her forget all the excellent arguments she'd marshaled for her upcoming confrontation with Mr. Marks. "Yeah."
They were a couple of feet from the desk, and he was still gazing at her in amazement. "But what about your life in Seattle? Your business…?"
"We close in ten minutes. If you want something, Jack, you'd better get moving," the woman at the scarred oak counter announced.
"Hi, Linda. We'd like to see Ed."
"I suppose it can't keep till Monday?" She sounded resigned but hopeful.
"Nope."
The clerk stepped through a doorway behind her, then reappeared. "Come on in," she said, holding the door open with her foot until they'd passed through.
Laura had met Edward Marks at the committee meeting, and he'd reminded her of a schoolteacher. He had the earnest look of a scholar with his thick glasses and ill-fitting sports jacket.
He glanced at her, then at Jack, and the twinkle Laura was beginning to associate with the whole bidding process was in his eyes. "So, you two know about each other."
"We just found out," Jack said curtly. "Look, Ed. There's something funny going on around here. Everybody in town wants to save the McNair House. You have two perfectly good bids to keep it, Laura's and mine. Why the hell are you selling an historic landmark to a developer who'll knock it down?"
The twinkle in the mayor's eyes disappeared. He sighed and said, "I wish you'd wait till next week. I've explained to both of you I can't discuss the details of the successful bid."
"But we have a right to know—"
"No, you don't. The house won't be knocked down this weekend, for heaven's sake. Wait until you have all the information, then you're welcome to take any action you deem appropriate. I'm sorry, but until next week, I can't discuss this."
They argued themselves hoarse, but it was hopeless. Edward Marks was polite. He admired Laura's drawings. He showed genuine interest in Jack's plan to donate the rose garden to the city as a park – and darn, but she wished she'd thought of that! Yet the mayor wouldn't be goaded into telling them anything.
The woman in the front office made a noisy production out of locking up, but Jack didn't seem to hear the obvious hint. He was fighting for the house as though it were the most important thing in the world.
Laura watched him, so tall and proud and confident, and all the anger seeped out of her. What was a house but a shell? It was what went on inside that was important. There were other houses. The important thing was that she was home to stay. And maybe with time, she and Jack could make a fresh start. Anything was possible.
"Excuse me," she interrupted. "I'm leaving now. Sorry to bother you, Mr. Marks."
"Anytime, Miss Kinkaide," the tired-looking mayor assured her.
"Bye, Jack," she said, and quickly left the room.
When she reached her van, she realized Jack had followed her. He waited until she'd stowed her portfolio. "Laura," he said gently. "Walk with me."
She nodded, feeling her heart leap when she heard the appeal in his voice.
He leaned past her to put his briefcase beside her portfolio, and his arm brushed hers – just the tiniest whisper of a touch, but the impact on her senses was electric. He turned his head to stare at her and she knew he'd felt it, too, the surge of awareness that had her pulses thrumming. Making eye contact only increased the chaos overtaking her nervous system.
The expression on his face was intense as he raised his hands to grip her shoulders. "This isn't over. I'm going to that council meeting next week to talk some sense into the village idiots who run this town—"
"Good night, Jack, Miss Kinkaide."
As one, Jack and Laura jerked their heads in the direction of Edward Marks's voice. The man was right behind them, carefully unlocking the door of his blue sedan.
"Uh, night, Ed."
"Good night, Mr. Marks."
The mayor gave an ironic little wave as he slid behind the wheel.
"Well, that'll sure help my case," Jack muttered, while Laura shut and locked her van, stifling a helpless grin.
A crazy idea was forming in her mind, that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't only after the old house.
*
They walked together down the quiet sidewalk, past the shops and restaurants that fronted the seaside. Laura couldn't look at Jack. Hope and fear warred within her as she waited for him to speak, but he took his time, shoving his hands in his pockets and kicking a pebble ahead of him.
Finally, he said, "Why do you want the house?" His voice sounded strained. She turned and found him staring at her, his face eager.
She bit her lip and kept walking. "This is my home. Gran's here. I can run my business from Whidbey. There are all kinds of historic properties in the area. And I could still do projects in Seattle. It's not that far." She wanted to make certain he knew she wasn't hanging around just for him.
"I could take in roommates if I need help with the mortgage," she continued. "Maybe even turn the place into a b and b when I finish decorating it. Once I saw that diary I couldn't bear to let the house go. Thanks for leaving it out for me to find." Her heart was hammering. She stared ahead down the deserted sidewalk. "How about you? Why do you want it?"
"I was hoping to bribe you with the house," he said at last.
"Pardon?" She turned her head to gape at him, and saw that his face was set in grim lines.
He kept walking. Now he was the one staring straight ahead, afraid to look at her. She scrambled to catch up as he said, "I want to marry you. I thought maybe if the house was part of the package, you might consider it. I know how much you love that house." He swallowed. "I blew it. I'm sorry."
"Oh, Jack…"
The pebble skipped ahead as he kicked it
, watching its progress through narrowed eyes. "At first I just wanted our friendship back. Then it got so I couldn't stop thinking about you. I knew you'd go back to Seattle after a few months, but I figured I could handle an affair. It was better than nothing. But I was wrong, it's no good. I figured out the other night I was in love with you."
"But, Jack—"
"No, let me finish. I have to get this out." His voice was husky. "I didn't slip up on purpose. God knows, I don't want to go down that road again. But after you ran out that night, I went home and just sat for a while, figuring things out. I finally figured out that I did want you to be pregnant with my child. I just wanted you to be happy about it."
Laura was having trouble seeing through the tears in her eyes, which was how she came to trip.
Jack caught her before she fell, then didn't seem able to let go of her. He was gazing into her eyes with such tenderness that her tears spilled over.
"I'd love to have your child," she managed to gasp, smiling and wiping her eyes at the same time. "I wish I had been pregnant."
His lips came down and claimed hers as her eyes overflowed again. She was laughing and crying and kissing at the same time.
She almost fainted from lack of breath.
He lifted his head and hugged her to him. "I've missed you so much. Right from the beginning when you first left. After I messed up so badly, I missed having my best friend to talk to. So many times I've wanted to pick up the phone and call you."
"Really?"
He nodded. "But the few times you came to town you avoided me. Then we got the chance to work together and I hoped we could be friends again. I never dreamed this could happen." He kissed her again to emphasize his meaning.
"Neither did I." She cupped his cheeks with her palms, relishing the love and tenderness she saw in the depths of his blue eyes. The breeze tossed his dark-blond hair across his forehead and she reached up to smooth it back. It was a possessive gesture. A wifely gesture.
"You were right all those years ago," he said. "You weren't too young for me. It was me who was too young for you."
"We've both grown up a lot," she agreed. A lone pedestrian emerged from a shop and strolled toward them.