She held onto her anger, trying to remember that her father was a sick, though still infuriating man. "He was sailing and got caught in a storm."
Her father grunted.
He'd never understand how happy she and Doug had been, once--without his money and without his approval. She sighed. Six weeks. That was a long time to be gone. Would her supervisor let the assistant manager take over for that long?
"Dad, I'll think about it and give you my answer after your surgery."
His eyes closed for a moment and he sighed. "I guess I shouldn't have expected an immediate 'yes.'"
She wanted to reach out to him somehow, tell him not to worry, that she'd help if she could. But the past inhibited her. She could only offer one thing. "You'll have to recover quickly so you can meet your granddaughter."
His eyes flew open. "What's her name?"
"Mandy."
"How old is she?"
"She's four."
"Where is she now?"
Mitch answered. "She's at your house with my mother. They took to each other right away."
"Nora's a nice lady." Ray focused his attention on Laura. "Maybe she'll help you with Mandy while you're here."
She didn't need anyone's help with her daughter. Didn't her father think she was capable of doing anything right? Instead of expressing her thoughts, she said, "We'll see."
A nurse bustled in, nodded to Mitch and Laura, and checked the IV. When she finished, she said, "The doctor prescribed some medication. I'll be back with it shortly."
When the nurse had gone, Mitch moved closer to the bed. "We'd better be going. You need your rest. I'll be here during surgery tomorrow."
Laura patted her father's hand. "I'll be here, too. We'll be in to see you as soon as they'll let us."
"Surgery's at seven-thirty in the morning. You could wait for the results at the house."
Mitch shook his head. "We'll be here."
Ray refolded the hem of the sheet over his chest. "Nora's welcome to stay overnight. That way you won't have to get the child out of bed in the morning."
"Don't worry about anything. We'll work out the details." Mitch extended his hand and Ray took it.
Laura saw understanding pass between the two men and was suddenly jealous she didn't have that rapport with her father. When Mitch crossed to the door, she followed. Feeling awkward, she turned and said, "Try to get a good night's sleep." There didn't seem to be anything else to say.
Walking down the corridor to the elevator, Mitch finally spoke. "You could have told him you'd do more than think about staying."
Her chin lifted. "Was I supposed to lie to him?"
"I guess to you a job would be more important than your father."
All her frustration from the moment she'd opened her door to Mitch spurted out. "I don't know how important my father is. This is the first I've seen him in six years through his fault as much as mine, and I'm trying to assimilate that. I do know one thing though. Mandy comes first. I have to have a decent job to go back to if we're going to survive. So don't give me that holier than thou attitude when you know nothing about my life!"
He didn't back down. "How can you say Mandy comes first when you live like you do?"
She stopped in the middle of the hall. "And just how do I live?"
"Practically in a commune!"
Somehow, she held onto her fuse though it was getting mighty short. "Right. Just like the flower children I've read about."
A couple passed them in the hall. Laura waited until they were out of hearing distance before she finished. "Anne and George are good friends. I live with them for practical reasons."
"I saw the way George looked at you. Is that your practical reason?"
If they weren't standing in a hospital hallway, she might have slapped him. Instead, she stiffened her arms at her sides. "What you saw was good old fashioned affection," she said through clenched teeth. She took a few steps closer to him and knew she was courting danger but didn't care. "Maybe you think you saw something because of the awareness between us."
He appeared shocked, as if she shouldn't know about it, think about it, or voice its existence. "There's awareness all right. The awareness any man feels when he's in the same room with an attractive woman."
One thing she'd always been was honest. She wasn't going to start hiding the truth now. "You can reduce it to that if it's easier for you to digest. I only know I haven't felt this 'aware' for a very long time. I don't think it's an everyday occurrence for you, either. We don't have to like it, but it's ridiculous not to admit it's there."
His nose was a few inches above hers, his head close enough for her to feel his warm breath on her cheek. "I suppose you've been celibate since your husband died?" The question was as mocking as it was bold.
She met it with the same boldness. "Yes, I have."
He looked as if she'd told him Christmas was occurring in July this year. "Give me a break, Laura. A woman like you--"
"You might have heard many tales about me from my father, but the one thing you never heard was that I'm a liar. I tell the truth. Always. I learned that from my mother."
For the first moment since she met Mitch, she saw respect in his eyes. But she didn't know if it was there because she'd been celibate or because she'd told the truth.
***
As they rode the elevator to the lobby and walked to the parking garage, Mitch tried to sort his thoughts. Ray's face had registered shock that Mitch had brought Laura to York. But there was no censure. Mitch had worried about that on the flight home, unsure he'd done the right thing. His doubts had vanished when he'd seen the spark of hope in Ray's eyes when he asked Mitch to bring Laura to his room.
Laura sure as hell confused Mitch. He'd had a picture in his head of the woman Ray had described--an irresponsible, uncaring hoyden who thought of herself first, last, and always. She hadn't dispelled that image but she wasn't that one dimensional, either. Maybe that's why she made his head spin. But that made her all the more dangerous.
What if she saw Ray's invitation to stay as an opportunity to take over the businesses? He and Ray had a simple partnership agreement, if any contract could be called simple. But it could be terminated by either of them and the option was there for either to buy out the other if they both agreed. Mitch could never afford to buy Ray's share. But Ray Applegate could buy out Mitch easily.
What if he wanted to do that? After all Ray had done for Mitch, how could Mitch stand in his way? What if Laura put pressure on her father and pushed her way back in? Would Ray allow that? Would he rather have his daughter as a partner?
When they opened the store in Harrisburg, Ray had told Mitch it was his to make a success. Mitch had put most of his savings into the inventory. He had that back now, plus. He'd made the Harrisburg store the success it was today. Ray wouldn't cut Mitch out, would he? Of course not. Ray was not like Mitch's father. And they were more than business partners.
But neither of them had considered Ray's health would fail. If something happened to Ray...if Laura took over control... Mitch wouldn't let her. He'd keep his eye on her and not let her make a move without his knowledge.
The only problem was she was too damn sexy for his peace of mind. The fluffy blond-brown hair, enticing lips temptingly pink, a smile that could dazzle Edison when she switched it on high. For such a small person, she had long legs. He thought of sliding his hand up her thigh and his body responded. Damn! His hands clenched into fists. What was he thinking of?
Lust. Deprivation. It had been a long time since he'd brought a woman to his bed. That's all it was. She awakened basic male urges.
If he had to stick close to her, he'd have to keep his urges under control. That had never been a problem. Not even with Denise, though he'd considered marrying her. There was no earthly reason why he couldn't be in the same room as Laura and ignore the "awareness." Unless she was a siren.
He smiled. He was too old and too wise to believe in sirens or love potions. He was
dealing with a mortal woman. A woman he was going to watch closely.
CHAPTER THREE
When Laura saw her daughter fast asleep on the sofa, she wanted to curl up beside her. Instead, she crossed to her little girl and gazed at her innocent face, letting her love for Mandy well up and wash over her.
Nora set her crocheting on the end table. "She fell asleep about fifteen minutes ago. Poor thing couldn't keep her eyes open."
"She had a long day." Mitch strode to the sofa and looked down at the child in the pink gown. He lifted his head and his gaze met Laura's. "Would you like me to carry her upstairs?"
She nodded. "I'd appreciate it. Maybe if you do it, she won't wake up. I jostle her too much."
Mitch scooped Mandy into his arms. "Mom, can you stay the night so we don't have to get Mandy up in the morning?"
"Here? Does Ray know--"
"He suggested it," Mitch replied casually, as if the whole matter was no big deal.
She pursed her lips. "I suppose I can stay. It would look better since you're staying here too. Not that you and Laura need a chaperon. But people do talk."
Mitch rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "We know about that, don't we? Dad and Carey..." He stopped, as if suddenly remembering he and his mother weren't alone. "I don't think rumors are a concern now."
"They might be for Ray. He's very proper."
Laura wondered if Nora knew her father well. She seemed to have him pegged.
Nora continued, "I'll need a change of clothes."
"After I take Mandy up, I'll go get what you need."
"It's times like these, I wish I could drive," Nora said.
He sent her a slanted grin. "You can still learn."
Her cheeks pinkened and she became flustered. "Goodness, no. I'm much too old."
Mitch nudged her with his elbow as he passed her. "You're only as old as you think you are."
Pain twisted in Laura's chest. She'd never get over losing her mother. Seeing Mitch interacting with Nora made her realize how much she'd missed. Her mother would have loved Mandy, probably spoiled her.
As Mitch carried Mandy up the stairs, Laura said, "So your mom has never driven?"
"Nope. She uses public transportation. She could always walk to the tailor shop or someone else who worked there picked her up. When I was home I drove her and still do."
"I don't want to impose on her."
He didn't stop climbing. "I did it for you."
The tone of his voice should have warned her, but she never did take warnings seriously. "Why?"
"Because I didn't want you to have an excuse not to be at the hospital."
What could she say? Thank you, but stop taking pot shots at me? What if she stayed six weeks? He wasn't hostile, but he was so suspicious. So unlike Doug. The man she'd married had had a "live and let live" attitude. Doug had taught her she didn't need anyone else's approval. As long as she was true to her heart, no one else's two cents mattered. Until Laura's sense of responsibility for Mandy had put a damper on spontaneity and Laura couldn't run off at the drop of a hat to go sailing or or whatever the latest adventure was he wanted to share with her.
When they were first married, they thought alike, they, dreamt alike, they believed alike. Make the most of the moment. Live for today. Love for today. If passion was sometimes lacking, it didn't matter because they were such good friends. Falling in love with Doug had introduced her to the world of adult emotion...and adult heartache. When he died, she'd had to grapple with grief, fear, and the stark knowledge he had taken one too many risks. That might have been her fault. She'd never know. Anne and George had helped her rid herself of the blame.
After the sense of loss subsided enough for her to think about the future, she'd planned her future and Mandy's without looking for a man to share it with them. Did all men resent the time and care children took? Her father seemed to. Doug had. George loved Mandy like a brother loved a little sister and Laura could trust him to care for her, but George had never been more than a friend and never would be. That was just the way things were. So Laura had directed all her energy into raising her daughter to appreciate life, squeeze every moment of happiness out of it, and be nurtured with the freedom to think for herself and become the person she wanted to be.
Mitch waited for Laura to come into the bedroom and fold down the covers. Gently, he laid Mandy down and covered her.
Laura leaned over and kissed Mandy's cheek. As she smoothed the spread under her daughter's chin, she said, "I think I'll sleep in here with her tonight so if she wakes up and doesn't remember where she is, she won't be scared. The rooms here are so far apart. She's used to me being in the same room."
"You sleep together?"
"We have twin beds."
His blue eyes darkened. "What about Anne and George?"
She almost smiled in exasperation. He was determined to examine her life under his microscope. "They have separate bedrooms. As I told you, we're all just friends."
He walked toward the doorway, his movements athletically smooth. "How did you come to live together?"
Apparently he believed her. He wasn't still questioning her life style. That was progress. "Doug didn't have any life insurance. When he died, I couldn't keep up with the bills and mortgage payments. Anne wanted to go to grad school, but couldn't afford it. By sharing expenses with me and babysitting for Mandy she could. George is trying to save for a house of his own and staying with us he can save money."
"So it's not permanent."
She shrugged and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Nothing's permanent. I learned a long time ago to grab the moment for what it's worth."
Mitch frowned, the brackets around his mouth deepening. "What about building for the future, planting roots, saving enough to cover the proverbial rainy day?"
With a last look at Mandy, Laura crossed to him at the door. "Are you familiar with Shakespeare?"
"Somewhat."
"There's a line in Othello, 'Who steals my purse steals trash.' That's the way I look at money. It's necessary, but it's discardable. Memories, feelings, and people are the real treasures."
Mitch leaned against the door jamb, preventing her from leaving. "It's funny how people who've had money most of their lives decry its value. Have you ever wanted for anything?"
She thought about it. When she'd left her dad's house, she'd left with nothing. She had postponed the second term of her apprenticeship to work while Doug finished his schooling. But as soon as he'd finished, he'd found a job and she'd completed her training. Money wasn't abundant, but she'd always managed to pay the bills on time. It was good training for after he died. Even then, by budgeting carefully and sharing expenses with Anne and George, she and Mandy had never been in need.
"I've never been hungry or cold, if that's what you mean."
"That's exactly what I mean." His blue eyes bored into her.
He'd known poverty, and he'd known need. Sometimes he was easy to read. Laura wondered if he knew that. Compassion for him made her voice husky. "Were you cold and hungry often?"
He was quiet, as if thinking about not answering. Finally, he admitted, "Not if Mom could help it. But we ate boiled potatoes more than once a week."
He meant for a main course. "How long did that last?"
"My father never worked steadily so it happened on and off."
She didn't mean to interrogate him but she wanted to know more about him. "How old were you when your dad died?"
"Fourteen."
"You were the only one?"
"No. I have an brother who's a year older."
Was that the Carey he spoke of? "Does he live here in York?"
"No."
From his detached answer, she knew she'd better stop. But her curiosity got the best of her. "How did you get interested in designing jewelry?"
A faraway look came into his eyes. "My mom had a ring that her mother had given her. It was beautiful, a cluster of rubies and pearls. When my father gambled it away, she cri
ed and cried. I swore some day I'd replace it. I used to stop in front of jewelry stores and stare at the gems, the combinations and arrangements. After a while, I started drawing my own ideas. I imagined the colored stones in my hand and the countless pictures I could create with them."
The passion radiating from him startled her. This was a side she guessed few people saw. He loved brilliance, color, clarity and form. "I'd like to see your work."
He cocked his head and smiled as if pleased by her interest. "I can arrange that. Do you design?"
His smile could make anyone feel special. "I've never had the money for the materials."
"Your store doesn't repair jewelry?"
"No. Repairs are sent out. We don't even have gold solder."
Mandy turned over in bed and Laura was instantly alert. Her daughter didn't wake up but hugged her pillow.
"I have to get her doll. If she wakes up, she'll want it. It's probably downstairs."
He straightened and moved into the hall. "And I have to make another trip across town."
The bit of friendly conversation gave her hope that they could find common ground. "Mitch?"
He stopped. "What?"
"I do care about my father. I want him to get well."
He aimed a soul searching look at her. "Then we want the same thing."
As Mitch walked in front of her down the hall, she suspected he didn't believe it.
***
Nora was looking through the kitchen cupboards when Mitch returned with her overnight case. "I thought you and Laura would be watching television."
"Laura tried to keep me company but I could see how tired she was and concerned about Mandy waking without her there. I told her to go to bed."
He set the case on the beige counter. "Do you think it's an act?"
Nora stared at him as if she didn't know what he was talking about. "What?"
He took off his suitcoat and hung it on the back of one of the four plank bottom chairs at the smaller table in the kitchen. "Her motherly concern."
Nora's hands fluttered in the air. "It's no act! She loves that little girl. You can see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice. Why would she put on an act?"
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