by Marta Perry
Hannah, who seemed to have appointed herself the backer of the plan, nodded. “I can tell you all that, for sure. And maybe if you chust used the first names, that would be best. No one would mind that way.”
“I’ll get something to make notes on,” Sarah said, seeming to get interested in spite of her doubts. “We can write things down while you take the pictures.”
The morning light pouring through the windows allowed Allison to avoid the use of the flash. She took several photos of each quilt, marveling again at the intricate details and careful craftsmanship of each.
Sarah flipped to a quilt done in blue, yellow and rose in which a pattern of stars seemed to explode from the center, and Allison’s breath caught. “That is amazing. Tell me about it.”
“It is, ain’t so?” Sarah looked at her mother and smiled. “Mamm won’t tell you so, but this is one of hers.”
“Really? It’s... I’m at a loss for words. The pattern is so different from any I’ve seen.”
Hannah ducked her head, probably embarrassed at the praise. “It’s not typical Lancaster County Amish,” she muttered, almost in apology. “A cousin of mine in Ohio made a similar one. That’s where I got the idea. I used the brighter colors to appeal to the Englisch customers.”
Allison snapped picture after picture. The colors ranged from a deep yellow star at the center to surrounding fragmentary stars in green, blue, rose and yellow on a solid blue background. The colors and pattern combined to create an effect that made her think of a stellar explosion.
“It’s called Broken Star, ain’t so, Mamm?” Sarah was making notes.
Hannah nodded. “Maybe I was wrong to do it.” Her voice expressed doubt. “It hasn’t sold.”
“It will,” Allison said fervently. She glanced at the price tag affixed to the quilt and shook her head. “And it will probably bring double that amount.”
Hannah and Sarah were still exclaiming over that when Allison moved back to the doorway, hoping to get a shot of the interior of the shop. A voice in her ear startled her.
“Tell Hannah and Sarah to turn away,” Nick murmured. “They won’t want their faces shown.”
“Right. Thanks.” She hoped she didn’t flush at his nearness. “Sarah, why don’t you and your mother turn around so I can take a couple of photos of the shop?”
Sarah nodded, backing up, and Allison shot the pictures quickly. She should have thought of that herself. Hadn’t they just been talking about the Amish aversion to being photographed?
When she put the camera down, Nick was still there. This was different—Nick seeking her out after avoiding her so intentionally. She glanced up at him, and he took a step back, irritating her.
“I wanted to remind you of the picnic supper tonight. We keep telling Mom she’s rushing the season, but she insists the good weather is going to hold long enough.” He looked doubtful. “I’d say plan to bring a jacket or sweater, just in case.”
“I will.” Ellen had stopped by yesterday with the invitation, and apparently all of Sarah’s family was attending what Ellen had called the first cookout of the year.
“We can always move indoors if we have to.” He sounded philosophical about it. He paused for a moment, looking past her instead of at her. “Do you want me to pick you up?”
“No, thanks,” she said quickly. “I’ll drive and bring Sarah.” Now it was her turn to hesitate. “Look, would you rather I made some excuse and bailed on tonight?”
“No.” Nick looked genuinely startled. “Why would I?”
She glanced around, but no one was within earshot. “You’ve been making an effort to avoid me for the last couple of days. I’m just trying to make it easy.” She couldn’t seem to erase the edge in her voice.
His color deepened, but he met her gaze squarely. “It’s not—” He stopped, then started over. “Look, it’s just that I have to be careful when it comes to relationships. I have Jamie to consider, and I don’t want him to be hurt by anything I do.”
Allison’s temper flared. “You’re assuming a lot, aren’t you? Maybe I’m not interested, either.”
She felt his anger even as his hands shot out and grasped her wrists. Her breath caught in her throat, and her pulse pounded against his palms. There was no mistaking the desire in his eyes.
“Aren’t you?” His voice was low and tight. “You’re feeling the same thing I am, aren’t you?”
She couldn’t deny it, but at least she didn’t have to affirm it, either.
Nick didn’t seem to need words. He dropped her hands. “I’ll see you tonight.” He turned and walked quickly toward the back door.
* * *
NICK POLISHED OFF the last bite of Hannah’s peanut butter iced chocolate cake, staring moodily across the backyard. Despite the chill of the May evening, everyone seemed to be having a good time, including Allison. Jamie was leaning against her lawn chair now that he’d finally been persuaded to stop showing her all of his favorite things on the farm so they could eat. The fact that he’d already given her the tour the last time she was here hadn’t deterred him, and Allison had seemed happy to go wherever Jamie wanted.
Nick didn’t like the bond that was developing between them, but what could he do about it? He couldn’t very well tell his mother to stop inviting her. At least, he couldn’t do that without telling her why, and he cringed at the thought. That subject wasn’t something a man wanted to discuss with his mother.
Mac, helping himself to a large slice of rhubarb pie, nudged him with his elbow. “Why are you standing there looking like a thundercloud? Somebody steal your favorite toy?”
“I’m not.” He met his brother’s challenging gaze and shrugged. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for Jamie to get so attached to Allison.”
Mac glanced from Nick to Jamie, who was being lured away from Allison’s chair, apparently to play catch with Sarah’s brother. “So the kid likes her. What’s not to like?”
Trying to put his worries into words was more than a little difficult, even with Mac. “She’s... Well, who knows how long she’ll actually stay here? She says she’s going to be here for a year, but she could change her mind tomorrow. It’s not as if she belongs in a place like Laurel Ridge.”
“She seems to be fitting in at the moment,” Mac pointed out. “Anyway, I don’t see how you can keep Jamie from liking her. Or yourself, for that matter. Do you expect to live like a monk forever, just because you got burned once by making the wrong choice?”
“Who said anything about living like a monk?” Nick aimed a mock punch at his brother’s midsection. “I’m not crazy. But before I let myself fall for a woman, I have to be sure she wants the kind of life I do.”
Mac snorted. “Not that I have much experience with it, but from what I can see, love doesn’t work that way.”
“You’re right about that,” Nick told him. “You’re no expert. You hop from woman to woman like you’re afraid to hold still long enough for anyone to catch you.”
“Yeah, well, it’s worked so far, hasn’t it?” Mac grinned. “Anyway, that’s not the point. I have eyes in my head, and anyone can see the sizzle when the two of you are together.”
“You’re dreaming,” he scoffed. Was he really being that obvious? He must be, if Mac of all people had noticed it. He was as oblivious as most guys his age when it came to feelings.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Mac said, and he wandered off to join the ball players.
His mother motioned him over to where the women sat in a circle of lawn chairs. “Nicky, is the Memorial Day parade on Saturday or Sunday this year?”
“Sunday.” He smiled down at her, knowing it was useless to ask her not to call him Nicky. She’d promise and forget the next minute. “The council decided to leave Saturday free for the craft fair and the kids’ game day at the park.”
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“It’s coming up fast, that’s certain sure,” Sarah’s grandmother said. “I’d like to get a few more quilted pot holders ready for the craft fair. They’re usually good sellers.”
Mom nodded. “They sure are. I’m doing some straw wreaths, but I don’t have enough dried flowers to finish, so I’m at a standstill until I get can some more. Sarah, what are you making?”
“Just machine-sewn place mats is all.” Sarah shook her head regretfully. “I haven’t had time to make anything more ambitious.”
“So does everyone in town make things for the craft fair?” Allison asked.
“Not everyone, no. After all, some people prefer to buy. Either way, they’re supporting the sale. The money is going for new playground equipment this year.” His mother leaned forward impetuously to touch Allison’s hand. “Why don’t you make something, Allison? We’d love to have you take part.”
“Maybe Allison’s not interested in that sort of thing,” he said quickly, with some vague thought of not wanting his mother to be hurt by a turndown.
Allison darted a frowning glance at him. “I don’t know if anyone would buy them, but I’ve knitted a few scarves in my time. I’m not nearly as inept with knitting needles as I am with sewing needles, and those infinity scarves are popular and quick to make.”
“That’s wonderful,” his mother said quickly. “We’ll take any you want to contribute.” She rose, gesturing with her cup. “I’m getting some coffee. Anyone want anything?”
There was a general shaking of heads. As his mother turned from the group, she caught Nick’s arm, pulling him a few steps away as the conversation resumed behind them. She stopped at a safe distance and gave his arm a shake. “What was that all about?”
“What?” He pulled his arm free.
“Jumping to the conclusion that Allison wouldn’t want to help. That wasn’t very nice.”
He and Mac both knew those words were the equivalent of Mom saying, “I’m ashamed of you.”
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m just not sure it’s a good idea to get too close to Allison.”
His mother surveyed his face for a long moment. Then she shook her head. “I can understand why you might feel that, Nicky.” She spoke softly, and he suspected that was pity in her eyes. “But I don’t think your dad and I raised you boys to be afraid of caring for people, no matter how long they’re in your lives.”
It was a good thing she didn’t wait around for an answer, because Nick didn’t have one.
His attention was caught by the sound of Mac’s cell phone. He watched his brother’s face grow steadily more serious as he listened. Mac said a few words and ended the call, then glanced around and caught Nick’s gaze.
“What is it?” Nick crossed the space between them, feeling his brother’s tension as surely as if it were his own.
Allison stood, seeming to pick up the change in mood in an instant. “Is something wrong?”
“Ralph’s house has been broken into,” Mac said. “I have to go.”
“Is he all right?” Allison had paled.
“He wasn’t there,” Mac said quickly. “He came home and found things a mess and called in. Apparently he’s pretty shaken.”
“Poor thing.” Mom was instantly sympathetic, and Elizabeth nodded. “If there’s anything we can do...”
“I’ll let you know.” Mac glanced from Nick to Allison, frowning. “You know, maybe we were wrong about who the target is.” He turned and jogged toward his car, leaving Nick and Allison staring at each other.
“Do you think he’s right?” Allison wrapped her arms around herself as if cold.
Nick guided her to the table where the coffee thermos sat and poured her a cup. “Here, this will warm you up.” He frowned down at the cup as she took it in both hands. “I don’t know. It could be a coincidence, I guess.”
“It was Ralph’s store that was broken into.” Allison seemed to turn the thought over in her mind. “But the business with the broom—”
“Ralph was upstairs that morning, remember? But he came down in the elevator. Maybe it was a miscalculation on someone’s part, and they got you instead of Ralph.”
“If so...” Allison broke off to give him a tentative smile. “I’d be happy to think none of this harassment was aimed at me, but I’m not sure. I am sure that Ralph hasn’t said everything he knows.”
“Maybe he’ll be a little more forthcoming now if he’s scared enough.” He paused, not satisfied. “Do me a favor. Don’t let down your guard, okay?”
She nodded. “You don’t need to worry about that. I’m spooked enough already.”
* * *
AFTER A FEW moments of charged silence between them, Allison set the coffee cup back on the table. She could sense the struggle going on in Nick, and she didn’t quite understand it—at least, not entirely. They were both adults. If they were attracted to each other, what was so wrong? His excuse about considering Jamie had sounded like just that, an excuse to avoid involvement.
She turned away, thinking she’d rejoin the women, when Jamie came rushing at her and flung his arms around her legs.
“Did you see me catch the ball? I caught it three times in a row.” He looked up at her, his face flushed, beaming.
“That was terrific.” She bent to hug him, inhaling the scent of cut grass and small boy. It was surprisingly touching to feel his arms around her neck. “Wasn’t it, Nick?”
She glanced up and caught the expression on Nick’s face—a mingling of longing and disapproval combined, and it seemed to strike her in the heart. Nick wasn’t just determined to be careful of emotional involvement for Jamie’s sake. He actually disapproved of her in the role.
Allison’s temper flared. She hadn’t asked to be involved with him. If he couldn’t imagine her as a potential stepmother for his son...
The train of thought came to a screeching halt. Stepmother. Was she really thinking that? If this attraction between them became serious, if they decided they were meant to be together, then what?
Suppose they married? That would make Jamie her stepson. If they had children of their own, would Jamie end up feeling as she so often had—that they were a complete family without him? A cold hand grabbed her heart and squeezed.
She took a cautious step away from Jamie, and Nick grabbed him, swung him upside down and then set him on his shoulders. Giggling, Jamie grabbed his hair. “I’m the tallest one here,” he boasted.
“You sure are.” She managed a smile, trying to stop her mind from spinning. “It’s starting to get dark. I think I’d better head for home.”
Jamie objected vociferously. Nick didn’t. Clearly the best thing she could do was to leave.
It couldn’t be accomplished that fast, of course. By the time she’d said her goodbyes and her thanks and avoided Ellen’s efforts to pack up an entire picnic of leftovers for her, another fifteen minutes had passed, and the sun had slipped behind the ridge. It really was getting dark fast, and she’d rather not drive that lonely, winding road alone at night.
She set the piece of apple crumb pie Ellen had forced on her on the seat beside her and started the car. Nick leaned down and tapped on the window, and she opened it.
“Maybe I should follow you home. Just to be on the safe side.”
Her heart gave a little jolt at his nearness. “Not necessary,” she said quickly. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She closed the window before he could argue and drove out the farm lane.
Once she’d made the turn onto the two-lane blacktop road, she was impressed anew with how dark it was in the country. Some outside lights had come on at one or two farmhouses, but the others she passed were either dark or showed only the faint glow of lights from their windows. Those were the Amish ones, she’d guess.
Allison was honest enough to reco
gnize that she was concentrating on trivialities to avoid thinking of the insight that had shaken her. Her rational mind had all sorts of reasons why she was being silly. Unfortunately it was arguing against something deep in her heart, and her heart was winning.
If she felt that way about a potential relationship with Nick, she should back off, shouldn’t she? And after all, she and Nick were at the very beginning of whatever it was they felt for each other. Maybe it was best to stop now, while it wouldn’t hurt so much to end it.
Wouldn’t it? Something in her denied that idea.
Headlights reflected in her rearview mirror, blinding her for a moment. Annoyed, she flicked the mirror angle, but it didn’t seem to help. The idiot had his high beams on. Didn’t he know that was dangerous?
Then she realized it was probably Nick. She ought to be annoyed that he had disregarded her words, but she couldn’t help being pleased that he—
The car hit her bumper, jolting her head back. What on earth...? That wasn’t Nick. Her heart thudded into overdrive, and her hands gripped the wheel.
If she’d been hit on her usual drive to and from work in Philadelphia she’d stop, check for damage, exchange insurance information. But not on a dark, lonely road. She slowed a little, peering into the rearview mirror, trying to get a glimpse of the car and driver.
Useless. All she could see was the glare of the headlights, approaching fast. A big car, she thought, dark color. She was ready for the hit to the bumper this time. Braced herself, mind racing. Turn into one of the farm lanes? But that would be a dead end if no one was home.
The blow wasn’t as bad as she’d half expected. He was trying not to damage his car—that was it. But another hit could easily send her careening off the road, to be stuck and vulnerable.
Her mind raced, searching for options. Try to get her cell phone from her bag? But that would involve taking one hand off the steering wheel, and how could she? Fingers gripping the wheel, knuckles white, she accelerated, increasing the distance between them, but a curve was coming up, and if she didn’t slow down she’d go out of control.