Currant Creek Valley

by RaeAnne Thayne

  “And a very valuable service it is, too. Were you a good boy, Leo? Were you?”

  The dog slobbered all over her while she rubbed his scruff. When she looked up, she found Sam watching her with a sharp, hungry look in his eyes but he blinked it away so fast she wondered if she had imagined it.

  “We walked to the corner and back and stayed away from the creek, just as I promised you,” Ethan said proudly.

  “Excellent! Then I think you’ve earned two dollars.”

  She handed them over and he couldn’t have looked more thrilled.

  “Thanks,” he exclaimed. “Thanks a lot.”

  “Don’t thank me. You earned them.”

  “I was telling my dad you make the very best brownies I have ever tasted and that he should try one.” He paused, a crafty look in his eyes. “Maybe I could have another one, too, just to make sure. If you have any left, I mean.”

  Sam cleared his throat, a faintly embarrassed look in his eyes. “That’s not why I came over,” he said. “You don’t have to give me brownies.”

  “You’re in luck. I happen to have exactly two extra brownies and was looking for someone to take them off my hands.”

  “We can do that, can’t we, Dad?”

  “I’ve learned to never turn down brownies. Who knows when the chance for more might come along?”

  She couldn’t resist raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t that true? For brownies and...so many other things.”

  His eyes glazed, just a bit, and she hid her smile even as she tried to rein in the natural instinct to flirt with the man. She just couldn’t seem to help herself around him but she vowed to try harder.

  She was supposed to be mad at him for not telling her he was moving to Hope’s Crossing or that he had a son. And she was, honestly. Anger and hurt and a whole host of other emotions seemed to clot together in a big ball inside her whenever she thought about Sam, but she also couldn’t help thinking the afternoon suddenly seemed much brighter.

  He was a loving father who had been trying to protect his son. How could she be angry about that?

  She ought to send them both on their way with the brownies, but she had all those leftovers and it didn’t seem very neighborly not to share.

  “Are you guys hungry?”

  “Yes,” Ethan declared. “We haven’t had anything to eat since lunchtime. Well, technically I had a brownie, but that’s it.”

  “Then you are both in luck,” she said. “Come on back to the kitchen. My family was just here having a taste of things to come when the restaurant opens and I happen to have plenty of leftovers.”

  “You don’t have to feed us. That’s not why I stopped by, either.”

  “The way I see it, the more guinea pigs, the better.”

  “I’m not sure I like the sound of that, Eth. We’re guinea pigs.”

  “If I can’t have a dog, can I at least have a guinea pig?”

  Sam smiled at his son, rubbing a hand over his son’s curls. “We’re going to have to see on that one, kid. Maybe we should check out what guinea pigs eat first.”

  She managed to tear her gaze away from the tenderness between father and son. “In my kitchen, they eat fabulous food. Just wait and see. And if the guinea pigs are very good and try a little of everything, they get to have some of my fantastic brownies as a reward.”

  “They really were good,” Ethan told his father.

  “You must know some very happy guinea pigs,” Sam said.

  “You don’t know the half of it.”

  She couldn’t seem to look away from his smile. “Why did you? Stop by, I mean?”

  He blinked a little, as if he’d forgotten. “Oh. To say hello, for one thing. That’s what neighbors do, isn’t it? I hadn’t seen you in a while and I...well, wanted to see how you are.”

  Had he missed her, too? Probably not. He probably only wanted...brownies.

  “I’m fine,” she answered. “Nervous about this weekend, but otherwise fine.”

  “Good. That’s good. I, uh, also wanted to ask you about the blue recycling can. I can’t seem to figure out when they come pick that one up.”

  “Every other Monday, so tomorrow would be the day. You probably just missed the first pickup of the month when you moved in.”

  “That makes sense. Okay. Thanks.”

  They gazed at each other and she remembered the delicious heat of his mouth and the implacable hardness of his body against hers and the slow, heady churn of her blood.

  “Are we going to eat?” Ethan asked.

  She looked down at his son as color rushed to her cheeks. “Right. Yes. Come on back to my kitchen.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  SAM FOLLOWED ALEXANDRA and her dog into the warm, delicious-smelling kitchen, wondering just how he had managed to stay away so long.

  He had missed her. A dozen times he had wanted to stop by and see her when he had driven past and seen lights on at her house, but he had reminded himself every time of that shock and dismay on her features when she had discovered he was moving permanently to Hope’s Crossing.

  She didn’t want him here. She had made that much clear, so he had just figured he was better off not bothering her.

  The dog hurried in ahead of them all and began licking his water dish, looking completely at home.

  “Before you say anything, no, I haven’t found his owners yet. I’m beginning to think maybe he was dumped off here, although that doesn’t explain the collar.”

  “Maybe he wandered into town from some far-off location and his owners don’t even know to look for him here.”

  “It’s been known to happen,” she answered. “Hope’s Crossing has always been a haven for strays.”

  That described him perfectly. A stray, somebody who didn’t have connections anywhere else. He wanted to make this a home for him and for Ethan.

  “On the menu today was turkey cutlets, a really delicious apple-pear salad, pumpkin risotto and roasted artichokes. According to the reports, the risotto is not the best thing I’ve ever made but I actually thought it was quite tasty.”

  “My dad was going to grill a couple of hot dogs later for us but he’s been too busy installing a new toilet,” Ethan announced. “I was helping him but eventually I got bored and went for a ride on my new bike.”

  He made a face at his son for the overshare. “Plumbing. Always such a fascinating topic of discussion.”

  She smiled even as she pulled plates out of the cupboard and began arranging food on them for him and Ethan.

  “This looks delicious.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Guinea pigs eat really fancy food,” Ethan observed with a worried look. “I wonder if they like hot dogs and chicken nuggets, too.”

  Alexandra laughed. “Guinea pigs actually have pretty special food. They would be sick if they ate any of this. I was teasing before. When I said you were my guinea pigs, that was only a figure of speech. It meant I was going to let you taste the food I fixed so we can tell whether you like it and if I should serve it in my restaurant.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  Ethan took a nibble of the rice dish and then apparently liked it enough to try another and another. He didn’t touch the artichokes—a personal aversion—but ate all the turkey she set on his plate.

  They ate at her little kitchen table in a bay that overlooked the wide patio and the river, and he wondered again why she didn’t have any furniture out there so she could sit and enjoy the sound of the rippling water.

  It seemed to him a little like someone who lived by the ocean but kept the windows and doors closed against the soothing sight and sound of the waves.

  She sat with them but didn’t eat anything. “I already had some with my guests,” she explained when Ethan asked her why she wasn’t eating her own food. “I’m pretty stuffed right now.”

  To Sam’s surprise, she and Ethan seemed to hit it off brilliantly. The two of them talked about all sorts of topics, from LEGO creations to Harry Potter trivia to the scient
ific basis for how yeast acted to make bread rise.

  It was the most pleasant hour Sam had enjoyed in weeks. Probably since the night he went hiking with her on Woodrose Mountain.

  He hadn’t realized how hungry he had been when he walked inside but he had seconds of everything. When he finished, he pushed the plate away. “Fantastic. As always. Your restaurant is going to be a huge hit, Alexandra. Seriously.”

  He wanted to bask in the warmth of her wide, bright smile.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft. “I don’t want you to think I’m constantly in need of approval but I’m not going to lie to you, right about now I really appreciate the vote of confidence.”

  She was a contradiction of boldness and insecurity. One of the many things that fascinated him about Alexandra McKnight.

  All his reasons for staying away from her seemed really ridiculous right now, especially as he sat here in her kitchen and realized how very much he had missed her.

  What would it take to convince her to make a little room in her hectic life to see where things might develop between the two of them?

  “I’m finished with my dinner. It was very good. I do still like hot dogs, especially the way my dad cooks them on the grill, but this was quite tasty, too. I ate everything except the artichokes. I wouldn’t have eaten those even if they had been dipped in ice cream. I just don’t like artichokes.”

  “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind next time,” she promised.

  Sam wanted to believe she meant something by the words but he recognized polite conversation when he heard it. They likely wouldn’t have a next time, unless he figured out some way to persuade her otherwise.

  “Is it all right if I play with Leo for a while?” Ethan asked.

  “I don’t mind, as long as it’s okay with your dad.”

  He probably ought to excuse them both and take Ethan home. On the other hand, it seemed rude to sit here in her kitchen, eat her food and then rush out like a soldier who only had ten minutes for chow before report.

  “Not too rough inside the house,” he told his son. “You wouldn’t want to break anything of Ms. McKnight’s.”

  His son and her dog headed into the great room, leaving the two of them alone in the kitchen.

  She was the first to break the silence left behind them. “So I hear you’re working on the new recreation center.”

  “News travels.”

  She smiled, tucking behind her ear a wavy blond curl that had slipped out of her loose ponytail, and he had an insane urge to tug the rest of it free, to unleash all that silkiness and dip his fingers in it, as he had done twice before.

  “You’re moving to the wrong place if you want to keep any secrets around here,” she told him. “You may not know this but my mother is marrying Harry Lange.”

  “So I hear.”

  “She probably knew you were going to work on the recreation-center project before you were even asked. Harry has a well-earned reputation of not taking no for an answer. If he wants something, he won’t stop until he finds a way to get it. That’s not an exaggeration, by the way. It’s simple reality.”

  “Good to know.”

  “What does Harry have you doing at the rec center?”

  “Same thing I did at the restaurant, just on a little bigger scale. Finish carpentry. That’s kind of my area of expertise. Apparently I’m picking up the slack for the same guy who was supposed to be wrapping up the work at Brazen.”

  “Oh, right. The contractor with the family issues.”

  “I hate taking the guy’s jobs since I know all about trying to work through family stuff, but somebody’s got to do it. People can’t wait around indefinitely.”

  Through the doorway he could see Ethan on the floor, wrestling with her dog and looking as if he were having the time of his life. He was really going to have to think about adding a dog to their little family unit once things settled down. A chocolate Lab, maybe...

  “So what’s the completion date for the recreation center?”

  “It’s a rush job. The whole thing isn’t going to be finished by the end of the summer but we’re trying to get some of the main reception areas done by early June. Something about a special memorial event on that day. You probably know more about that than I do.”

  “Aah. The annual Giving Hope Day.” Her mouth tightened, a shadow of sadness drifting over her features.

  “Giving Hope. That sounds ambitious.”

  “It’s actually in remembrance of my niece, Layla. My sister Maura’s daughter. She was killed a couple years ago in a car accident in the canyon—not very far from where you’re building the recreation center, actually.”

  “Is that the same car accident where Brodie’s daughter, Taryn, was injured?”

  “Yeah. The very one. A group of teenagers sort of went on a rampage, I guess you could say, causing trouble and just being stupid. Vandalism, breaking and entering, some petty theft. They were drinking. A few of them got high. The driver had a couple drinks in his system and rolled his pickup truck on the way down the canyon, trying to flee a police chase.”

  Some of his surprise must have registered on his features because she nodded.

  “I know. Shocking, right here in happy little Hope’s Crossing. If you moved here because you think of small-town life as this idyllic paradise where everything is perfect, you’re going to suffer a rude wake-up call.”

  “I served three tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan. I do believe that’s the first time anybody has ever implied I’m naive.”

  “I’m sorry if I gave that impression. I just hope you understand we’re not insulated here from the problems the rest of the world has to face. Hope’s Crossing isn’t perfect. We have our share of troubles. Teen pregnancies, suicides, drugs. Just like anyplace else.”

  “Understood.”

  “Maybe more so because we’re a tourist destination and that brings its own challenges. I guess the difference is that those of us who have chosen to make this our year-round home work really hard to build community. People care about each other here. Have you heard about our Angel of Hope?”

  “A little. Just that somebody goes around secretly doing nice things for people,” he answered. “Sounds like a fine concept to me. And nobody knows who it is?”

  “Rumors are always flying but no, we haven’t figured it out. At this point, I think the Angel has taken on a life of its own. Kind of a pay-it-forward kind of thing. People do nice things for others and let the Angel take the credit for it. Whoever started the whole thing is a genius. Because of the Angel, Hope’s Crossing has come together like never before.”

  Her features glowed when she talked about her town and the people she loved. She looked so lovely, he just wanted to sit here and gaze at her.

  “And the Giving Hope Day?” he managed to ask, taking a sip of water.

  “This is our third annual event. My friend Claire organized the first one as a way to honor Layla on what would have been her sixteenth birthday. It’s kind of grown beyond the original idea and now it’s a huge day of service where everybody comes out to do projects around town. Painting fences for senior citizens, yard cleanup for single mothers, reorganizing the shelves at the food bank. Anything we can do to make life better for someone else.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Come to think of it, you’re just the kind of man we need. A guy who has your mad skills with a hammer will definitely come in handy. I’ll have to remember to tell Claire she should put you to work.”

  “Absolutely,” he answered without hesitation.

  This was exactly what he wanted, for himself and for Ethan. A town with its own Angel of Hope and a day set aside to help each other. She might talk about all the problems Hope’s Crossing had, but from the perspective of an outsider, what he saw now was a place where he and his son could settle in and shove down roots to build a new life.

  “Sign me up. I’m willing to do anything.”

  She laughed. “You better not let Claire
hear you say that or you’ll be working from before sunrise until midnight, straight through the gala auction and dance.”

  “You didn’t tell me dancing was involved. That is not one of my mad skills.”

  “Don’t worry. Plenty of people sit out the dancing part. I’m usually in the kitchen, for instance.”

  “What a shame.”

  He only meant he was sorry she had to miss the fun but somehow his words came out low, almost sensual.

  For several long moments she blinked at him, her eyes wide and those soft lips slightly parted. He remembered the taste of them, sweet and lush, better than any triple-chocolate brownie.

  He wanted to kiss her again, so badly he ached with it, but he knew he couldn’t. His son’s laughter rang out only a few yards away. He and the dog could race back into the kitchen any moment now.

  Beyond that, she had made it clear she didn’t want him—though right now the heat waves shimmering between them would tend to contradict that.

  Apparently he wasn’t very good at maintaining a friendship with a woman when he wanted more. He would just have to try harder to put his attraction to her on a shelf somewhere, tucked way out of sight and out of mind. Neither of them needed this awkwardness.

  She was the first to break the tension. She folded her hands together on the table and cleared her throat. “I prefer the kitchen, actually. I’m not very good at dancing, either. I only end up pissed off when a man won’t let me lead.”

  “Maybe you just haven’t found a man you find worth following, once in a while.”

  Her laugh seemed to surprise her. “You could be right about that, soldier.”

  Before he could answer, Ethan chose that moment to return to the kitchen.

  “Can I give Leo a treat?”

  Her smile to his son was bright and open. “Sure thing. See that big jar on the counter by the microwave? That’s where his goodies are.”

  Leo apparently knew the drill. He planted his haunches on the tile floor and waited while Ethan shoved a hand in the jar and emerged with a treat.

  “These are different. I’ve never seen a dog treat like this.” He held it up.