He set Meagan down and brushed his hands together. “Well, what are we waiting for, ladies?”
“Pardon?” Rachel asked, blinking at him.
Granting her a blank stare in return, he said, “Get your coats on; it’s brisk out there.”
“Wh—?”
“You might want some gloves, too.”
“Are we gonna play outside?” Meagan squealed.
Jason leaned down and tapped her head. “We, my dear, are going to work our little tails off. Are you up for it?”
“You mean rake the yard?”
Her small shoulders started to slump, but Jason was having none of it. “That’s what I mean, but don’t worry; there’s going to be some play involved. Now, go put your coat on, okay?”
Like a bear cub full of vim and vigor, she raced up the stairs and disappeared around the corner, singing another of her ditties, until Rachel issued her a warning not to wake Johnny. That baby slept through storms and fireworks, though, so she probably needn’t have worried. She turned to cast Jason a wary look.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Are you upset with me?”
She pursed her lips and blinked again. “You should have called first. Look at me.”
His innocent grin unnerved her. “You’re cute.”
“Oh, stop it.” Warmth crept up her neck. She swiveled on her heel. “If it wasn’t for Meaggie, I’d tell you to leave. I don’t need your help.”
“Ouch! You are mad at me.”
Saying nothing, she opened the hall closet and took her shabby work coat off a hanger.
“House looks nice,” Jason said, gazing about.
“Thanks,” she muttered, pushing her arms through the sleeves and then fastening the buttons. She turned to look at him and had to crane her neck, noting that he’d always been a couple of inches taller than John. She then admonished herself for making the comparison. “I’ve been doing slightly better at keeping up and, well, keeping the focus more on the kids than on me.” She wouldn’t tell him she’d made the extra effort largely because of him.
“That’s great, Rachel.” He gave her arm a gentle squeeze, the warmth of his grasp penetrating her sleeve. Thankfully, Meagan raced down the stairs at the precise moment she drew away.
“I’m ready!” Meagan declared, even though she wasn’t—her coat was only half on, with her mittens sticking out of the pockets. Rachel stooped to finish dressing her, all the while sensing Jason’s watchful gaze as she zipped her up, tied her hood securely, and worked her thumbs and fingers into each mitten.
Outside, the sky was overcast, the air biting. Next door, Ivy Bronson’s Pomeranian, Buffy, pounced against the chain-link fence and barked. Ivy, a widow in her seventies, would normally step out on her front porch and ask if Meagan wanted to play with her pooch. But Rachel had seen her pull out of her driveway about half an hour ago, probably bound for the corner market.
Jason chuckled. “Vicious dog your neighbor has. Bet she keeps the street safe.”
“She’s a boy, Uncle Jay,” Meagan corrected him. “And he only barks at strangers. He doesn’t know you yet.”
Rachel retrieved two rakes from the side of the house, where she’d put them three days ago, then entered the garage to get the electric leaf blower. Jason shuffled behind her. “The leaf bags are stacked over there,” she stated, pointing to a shelf on the wall.
“Got ’em. Anything else?” he asked.
“Nope.” She didn’t know why her mood had turned sour, but she had a feeling Jason’s presence played a part.
***
Well, this was interesting. Not only had Rachel given him the cold shoulder since he’d shown up on her doorstep, but she’d also made a point to avoid conversing with him, pretty much speaking only to answer a question or to say something to Meagan. He didn’t let it bother him, though. He figured she had good reason for being annoyed, seeing as he had arrived without an invitation. Again. He made a mental note to call her ahead of time in the future, since she apparently didn’t appreciate surprises of this nature. Funny how she’d remarked on her appearance, as if it mattered how she looked in his presence. Of course, she would look good with a bag over her head. Rachel Evans just had what it took to turn a man’s eye.
Not that he was looking.
“Watch me, Uncle Jay!” The nonstop chatterbox made a running leap for the leaves he’d just blown into a nice pile.
He grinned and stepped aside, setting down his leaf bag. “Whoa! Good dive! Ever think of training for the Olympics?”
The girl emerged, looking like some sort of prehistoric swamp rat. Leaves clung to nearly every inch of her body, from her woolen cap to the bottoms of her pant legs. “What’s the Lim Picks?” she asked with tilted head and wrinkled nose.
Rachel met his eyes and burst out laughing. The sound made his pulse quicken, though he didn’t let on; he just joined in, bending over to pick up Meagan and hoist her over his shoulder, then giving her head a playful knuckle rub. “The Olympics, goofy brain.”
Meagan started thumping on his back. “You’re the goofy brain.”
“Well, you’re a—a fuddle-head,” he countered.
“You’re a cock-a-doodle-doo,” she shrieked with glee.
Rachel’s laughter rose to the heights. “You two are silly.”
Wind rustled the leaves around, and a crow swept down to snatch up a twig in its beak and carry it off. “Oh, yeah?” he asked, giving Meagan a good-natured spank. “Then you’re a monkey’s mother.”
Gleeful laughter tumbled out of Meagan as he held her by her legs and twirled her several times. “And you’re a baby’s—butt,” she spouted, hesitating slightly on the last word.
“Meagan Joy!” Rachel covered her mouth with a gloved hand. “Don’t say that word.”
“Why not?” She braced her hands on Jason’s back and lifted her head. “Grandpa Roberts says it. He tol’ Grandma his butt hurt from watchin’ so much football, and she tol’ him the pain would go away if he’d get off it and start raking.”
Rachel joined him in another round of laughter. “My goodness! I’m going to have to remind Grandpa Roberts about your little ears,” she said as her smiling eyes met Jason’s and tugged on his heartstrings. For pity’s sake, Jason. This is Rachel.
Jason adjusted his grip so that he held Meagan by her ankles. “It’s getting late, stinker-toes, and we still have leaves to bag.” Dangling her from behind, he twirled her again, as she squealed with delight, and finally lowered her to the ground.
And so it went—spurts of laughter and good-natured teasing intermingled with work, mostly on Jason’s part, especially after Rachel went inside to check on Johnny. She reappeared ten minutes later with the little guy, a bundled ball of energy in a stroller. The sight of the two of them, and of Meagan running around the yard, did another number on his emotions, and he had to give himself a stern reminder that this was his brother’s family, not his.
As he raked the leaves and bagged them, he thought about the discussion he’d had with his dad before coming to Rachel’s today. They’d been standing on the porch at his parents’ house, talking about her. “She seems to be doing pretty well, considering what she’s been through,” his dad had said. “Right now, I think it’s best you let Rachel be, son. Drive on back to Harrietta. I’m sure your girlfriend—what’s her name? Carla or Catherine—”
“Candace,” he’d supplied, unafraid to let his annoyance show in his tone.
“That’s right. Candace. I’m sure she’s waiting for a call from you. Do you have plans with her tonight?”
Jason had huffed an impatient sigh. “She’s working, but that’s beside the point. Why would you suggest I leave Rachel be, especially when she clearly needs help?”
“Of course, she needs help,” his dad had agreed, irritation lining his voice. “Just not from you.”
“Not from me?” It’d been hard to keep his voice down. “Why do you keep saying things like that
, Dad? She’s as much a part of me as she is you.”
His dad had pulled at a string on his coat sleeve, yanking until the thread started to unravel. “I…I know a few things, that’s all.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Jason had hissed through gritted teeth. “What ‘things’ are you talking about?”
His dad had straightened his shoulders, blown out a loud breath, and looked away, never one to face a topic head-on. “I’d rather not discuss it now.”
“Of course. Now’s not a good time, is it?” Oh, he could have said so much more. Like how he had always lived in John’s shadow—perfect John, smart John, the son who never failed to earn his dad’s approval. When would it be Jason’s turn to make his dad proud? Probably never, considering how he’d somehow wound up being the one to blame for John’s death. At least, that’s how it seemed, if the vibes he got from his dad were any indication.
Instead of responding with a caustic remark, he’d bitten down hard on his lip, and thankfully so, since his mom had opened the door and come outside at that precise moment. She’d given him one more hug and asked when he planned to return.
Chapter 9
Dear Lord, when is he going to leave?” Rachel mumbled while running a bath for both kids, the rushing water drowning out her words. The bathroom clock registered 8:22, well past both kids’ bedtimes. Across the hall in Meagan’s room, Jason’s long, muscular body was spread out on the floor, belly down, as he helped Meagan build a tall tower with stackable cubes. If Rachel leaned back far enough, she could see his legs from the calves down. Johnny was delighted by his uncle’s sprawl, for it provided him a fun hill to climb up and over, his wild giggles making even Rachel smile as she held her hand under the faucet to test the water temperature. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the attention he paid her kids—they were his niece and nephew, after all—but his presence put her on edge. She’d forgotten how alluring and utterly charming he could be, something she had managed to ignore since marrying John.
And ambitious, and bold, and generous, and friendly, and driven. Goodness!
He’d accomplished so much for them today. In addition to the yard work, he’d taken her car to a nearby shop for an oil change, not to mention a wash, and then, with Meagan his constant shadow, he’d gone to the hardware store for supplies to fix a drippy faucet and a faulty wall socket. When Rachel had protested, saying she could just as easily call in a repairman, he’d winked and said, “I am the repairman.”
In between bursts of work, Rachel had made grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, a completely non-fussy, kid-friendly supper, yet Jason had called it the best meal he’d had in months.
“Come on,” she’d said, skeptical. “I’m sure Candace is a great cook. She probably spoils you rotten with all sorts of gourmet dishes.”
“Oh, we eat gourmet, all right,” he’d said with a laugh. “Gourmet takeout from Francine’s Deli, Morgan’s Steak House, and the Harbor Inn, a fancy little place down on Lake Mitchell. There’re more. Would you like me to list all of our favorite restaurants?”
She’d laughed. “Okay, so you eat out a lot.”
“How’s exclusively sound?”
“Good,” she’d joshed. “Mighty fine, actually.”
“Candace doesn’t cook,” he’d said with a chortle. “Problem is, neither do I. That makes us quite a pair, wouldn’t you say?”
She’d shrugged. “Nothing wrong with eating out, as long as you can afford to, I guess.”
He’d taken another big bite of his sandwich, from which melted cheese had started oozing out the side, and winked across the table at her. “Nothing like a home-cooked meal, if you ask me. I could order this very thing at Francine’s, and I’d bet my last nickel it wouldn’t taste half as good as what I’m eating right here in Rachel Evans’s kitchen.”
After the kids had been bathed and tucked in, nighttime prayers complete, Jason still made no move to leave. Instead, he plopped onto the cushy sofa in the living room and propped his stockinged feet on the coffee table, the surface of which was marred from Meagan’s banging toys on it as a toddler and, now, from Johnny’s fingerprints, as he liked to hold on to the table while maneuvering around it.
Rachel settled into the big chair next to the sofa. “You said Candace is working tonight?” she asked.
Jason didn’t respond but folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes. Don’t you dare go to sleep, Jason Evans, her mind screamed. “Shouldn’t you be calling her or something?”
With eyes still shut, he replied dully, “She’ll call my cell if she wants to talk.”
“You make her call you?”
“It’s a two-way street. I call her; she calls me.”
“Oh. Well, I guess it would be that way, since you’re practically engaged.”
He opened one eye a slit and peered at her. Rather than replying, though, he closed it again and adjusted himself in the sofa as if settling in for a long nap.
“Don’t think you’re going to spend another night on my sofa, Jason Allen.”
He grinned. “Hadn’t thought about it, but it’s not a bad idea.”
“It’s a terrible idea. As a matter of fact, you should be going now. It’s….” She gave an exaggerated yawn. “It’s getting late.”
***
Jason knew she was right, but his totally spent body kept him temporarily glued to the comfy sofa. With his eyes shut, he thought about the satisfying events of the day, from raking Rachel’s yard to playing with the kids, from running errands to making some much-needed repairs around the house. And then, there was the lively supper they’d enjoyed and the fun of helping bathe the kids and tuck them in. What could be better? Despite Rachel’s anxious sighing in the chair nearby, he just couldn’t bring himself to go home quite yet. Something about this room, this house—this woman—made leaving the hardest chore of the day.
At last, he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. “Your kids are great, Rachel. You’re doing a terrific job with them.”
“Thanks. We’re getting by okay, I guess.”
“How ’bout I come back next weekend to do some more raking?”
“How ’bout not?” She sounded adamant. “I’m calling a yard service tomorrow to finish the job. You have enough on your mind without having to concern yourself with my housework.”
He noted her protruding chin and folded arms. Such a proud show of determination! His chest heaved with some deep emotion when it occurred to him how impressed his brother would be by her grit.
“You can call a yard service, if you like, but it won’t keep me from coming back. I still need to watch that blasted Cinderella with Meaggie. Let’s plan a movie night, complete with popcorn, one of these weekends.”
“Let’s not.”
He couldn’t help the chuckle that rolled out. “You are too much, Rachel Kay. You try with all your might to be all independent and stubborn, but I know it can’t be easy. Sheesh, just getting those two kids bathed and ready for bed tonight was a chore. I can’t imagine you doing it every night by yourself. I admire you for the way you’re holding yourself and your family together. All I’m offering is a little help now and then. Is that so hard to accept?”
She unfolded her arms and fiddled with the cuff of her plaid shirtsleeve. The urge to reach across and wipe at the smudge of dirt on the tip of her nose was strong, but he restrained himself. Chin down, she whispered in a hoarse voice, “Rachel Kay? When have you ever used my middle name?”
“Since you started calling me Jason Allen, I guess.”
“Let’s make a pact to quit it.”
He grinned. “Fine. I never liked my middle name, anyway.”
“Me, neither.” He could see she didn’t want to smile, but a tiny smirk spread across her lips.
“Now, about that movie night—”
“I don’t think you should keep coming around,” she stated, her gaze still slanted downward.
He shot her a stare, but she didn’t look u
p. “And why is that?”
“Because, it’s—it’s just not a good idea, that’s why.”
Jason sighed. “That’s exactly what my dad said today. What’s the problem? All I’m trying to do is keep this family united.”
A look of confusion washed over her face. “I don’t know why your dad would….” She left the sentence dangling in midair.
“Nor do I, Rachel. Unless….” He left his words hanging, as well.
Her brow crinkled, and she finally met his eyes with an expression of dread. “Unless what?”
“Unless you told him about….” He tilted his face to study her. “You know.”
The blood seemed to drain from her face as her spine went stick-straight. “What? No! Of course not. I would never….”
Funny how they’d never talked about that long-ago kiss, and yet, without as much as a mention of the word, the memory of the event stood out like a two-ton elephant in a twelve-foot-square room.
Silence fell on them, and Jason looked at the ceiling, Rachel at her hands, as if the awkwardness would pass if they waited long enough.
After a minute or two, Jason finally spoke. “That’s it, isn’t it, Rachel? You still think about it.”
“I don’t think about it at all.”
“Liar. You must think about it, or you wouldn’t have known what I was talking about.” More silence followed his observation. “Rachel, we didn’t do anything wrong.”
“What?” she exclaimed. “Of course, we did. I was engaged to your brother, for crying out loud.”
He chuckled at the recollection of the kiss. “Which is a long way from being married to him.”
Her face went from pale to beet-red. “No, it’s not. Being engaged is a serious matter. You shouldn’t have kissed me.”
“You kissed me back.”
“Stop it.”
In one fluid move, he slid his feet off the coffee table, sat up, and propped his elbows on his knees, studying her with his eyes. “Listen to me, Rach,” he said in a softer tone. “You’re hanging on to something you should have let go of a long time ago. That kiss was innocent.”
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