by Carol Voss
No mistaking the reserve in her voice. Obviously, the invitation to the strawberry field didn’t mean she trusted him automatically. He needed to watch his step. He had to show her that his son was his first priority, that he finally got it. And that he’d learned a lesson he’d never forget. Dragging his gaze away, he ducked under the umbrella and dropped to his knees beside the boy. “Hi, Jake.”
Jake squinted at him. “Truck.”
“I see it. Are you having fun?”
“Mommy.” He pointed at Jessie.
Peter raised his hand in greeting. “Hi, Mommy.”
Jessie raised her hand, but looked at Jake with concern. “Peter drove all this way to play with you. Will you share your trucks with him?”
“No.” Jake’s bottom lip puckered in a pout. “Mommy mad.”
Wow. The little guy remembered that day at the beach? Or had he picked up on the wariness in her voice today?
“No, sweetie. Mommy’s not mad anymore.” She shot a fake smile Peter’s way. “We’re friends, aren’t we, Peter?”
Friends? The way he felt when he first saw her somehow made friends seem…inadequate. He’d missed her more than he’d miss merely a friend. But keeping it real, he gave her a nod. “Friends.”
Jake studied Peter, then reached for the blue semi and handed it to him. “Pedo play?”
“I’d love to play with you, Jake.” He gave Jessie a thumbs-up.
She went back to picking berries, still wearing her worried look.
Peter settled in to play trucks with Jake until the little guy sacked out in the dirt mid-haul. Watching the boy sleep, the rise of his tummy as he breathed in and out, Peter’s throat closed. Being a father was an amazing thing. Full of awe and wonder but tempered with so much fear of not measuring up. He looked to Jessie. “Looks like my pal is done playing for now.”
“He’s all worn out. Will you carry him over there?” She pointed to a truck with a small wagon attached. “I spread a blanket under that big tree for his nap.”
“Will he wake up if I move him?”
“No, he’s a sound sleeper. He’ll be out for a couple hours.”
Gathering Jake’s warm little body in his arms, Peter stood and carried him to the giant bur oak Jessie had pointed out. He bent and carefully laid the boy on the black-and-red-plaid blanket. Jake didn’t stir. Looked like he was out for the duration, just like Jessie said. Peter walked away, grabbed an empty pail from a stack beside the truck and strode back to Jessie.
Her gaze stayed riveted on the berries under her flying fingers.
He watched, mesmerized. She looked like a woman in an ad for strawberries. Problem was, he wanted to remove her hat, unfasten her ponytail and sift her hair through his fingers to see if it was as silky as it looked.
She glanced up at him. “Do I have strawberries on my face?”
He scrutinized her flawless face. “Not that I can see.”
“Then why the grin?”
Uh-oh. “Uh, I was thinking you should model for the strawberry industry.”
She rolled her eyes. “Right. Modeling would be right up my alley,” she said sarcastically.
“Too much sitting around for you?”
“That’s one of a million things, including the fact that I weigh twice as much as any model.”
She didn’t have an extra ounce anywhere that he could see. “You hide it well,” he teased.
She gave him a look laced with surprise, then dropped her gaze to the berries again.
Watch it, Sheridan. Either he’d embarrassed her or she thought teasing her was being too familiar. Either way, he needed to remember he was treading on thin ice. Letting her take the lead might be a good idea. He staked out a place near her, dropped to his knees and concentrated on picking strawberries. Slowly. All thumbs.
Her fresh lemon scent drifted on the breeze and mixed with the sweet perfume of the berries. All he heard was the murmur of other workers, the twittering of birds and an occasional drone of an insect or bee.
Not a computer or lab coat in sight. He’d never been more out of his element. But gone was the emptiness he’d felt as he knocked around in that bare condo of his. How could he feel that empty? For the moment, his son was nearby. And so was Jessie.
He wouldn’t have blamed Jessie if she’d made him wait to see Jake. But she hadn’t. Wary or not, she had a far more generous spirit than he deserved. Noting how slowly berries were piling up in his bucket, he concentrated on picking them faster.
“How is your friend Scott?” Jessie’s soft voice broke into Peter’s thoughts.
He noticed she’d begun filling another pail. She picked berries like a pro. But then, what wasn’t she good at? “Earlier this week, his doctors started giving him the drug our lab developed.”
“That’s wonderful. I hope it works better than you ever anticipated.”
“I appreciate that. I’ll pass your words on to Scott.” No offer to pray for them this time. Apparently, she’d figured out he’d felt uncomfortable that day in the van. Today, he’d know enough to thank her. And he’d mean it, too.
“Did you cancel the nanny?”
He was surprised by her question. It appeared she wasn’t going to skirt the difficult issues. “Sitter. And I never hired her, Jessie. I wanted your input before doing that.”
She bit her lip. “What about the condo? Do you plan to sell it?”
“The condo? No. I moved in yesterday. If you call sleeping on the great-room floor in a sleeping bag moving in. But I don’t know the first thing about what to put in the place.” Oh. Hadn’t he asked her to help him buy furniture that day at the lake? He sure didn’t want to tweak those memories.
“You need a decorator.”
“I don’t want it decorated. I want it to feel comfortable. You know, like a home.”
“A home for Jake?” Her tone held a warning.
“Sure, when he’s old enough to stay with me for a few days. But for now, I don’t want him to get used to the idea that I’m only a visitor in his life. Do you think you can bring him to Madison for a visit some time so he can get comfortable at my place?”
She squinted. “The diner is always hectic during the tourist season.”
Just how long did tourist season last? Until Labor Day? Later? He didn’t think he could bear to wait months for her to free up time for him. Careful, Sheridan. Don’t push her.
But his relationship with his son was too important to let this drop. “Is there any way you can work something out?”
“What do you want her to work out?” Suspicion in her voice, Jessie’s chubby aunt Lou strode by, a pail of strawberries dangling from each hand.
Peter sighed. Lou looked ready to defend her niece. But he decided to lay out his problem anyway. “I’d like Jessie to bring Jake to Madison to visit, so he’ll feel comfortable in the new condo I bought.”
Aunt Lou gave Jessie a shrug. “You could use a couple days away from the diner.”
A pleasant surprise. Peter wanted to give Aunt Lou a high five.
Jessie rolled her eyes her aunt’s way and continued picking berries. “Never mind that I need to make a living, Aunt Lou.”
“Hmph.” Aunt Lou didn’t sound convinced. “Peter, carry those pails to the wagon, will you? Harold and I have to get back to the house to get berries ready for the church benefit tomorrow. And we’re hungry. Jess, you said you made sandwiches, right?” Aunt Lou bustled off.
“Sure did,” Jessie called after her. She struggled to get up.
Peter jumped up and grasped Jessie’s firm forearm to help her.
“I’m fine, thanks.” Shaking him off, she climbed to her feet.
He frowned. Why wouldn’t she let him help her?
She stretched her back as if she was stiff.
“Do you have a lot of pain from your accident?” he asked.
“Not much…if I keep moving.” She slowly limped away.
He had the feeling she was pushing through more pain than she’d admi
t…maybe even to herself. Noting that her parents and most of the berry pickers had already left, he grasped the pail handles and headed to the wagon. Following Aunt Lou’s example, he stashed the buckets of strawberries in the wagon with the others.
The yellow Lab who’d greeted him when he arrived lay panting in the shade of the truck, his liquid brown eyes on Peter.
“Hey, fella.” Peter walked over to him, bent and patted his head. The dog licked his hand, his long tongue like silk on Peter’s skin. Peter had to smile. Maybe he’d get a dog to keep him company in his big empty condo.
“Help yourselves to cold drinks and sandwiches.” Jessie knelt beside the cooler, snatched a bottle of cola and held it to her neck to cool off.
Peter watched, too fascinated not to.
Using the cooler for support, she struggled to her feet and limped to check Jake.
Peter grabbed a cold bottle of water from the cooler and strolled over to stand beside her. He grinned down at Jake sprawled on the blanket. “I don’t think he’s moved since I laid him down.”
“He still needs his late-morning naps,” Jessie said.
Peter polished off his bottle of water. A small black-and-white bird twittered in the bur oak above their heads. Peter couldn’t remember ever feeling more alive.
“What do you say, Peter?”
Peter turned.
“You ready to hire on by the hour to pick strawberries?” Aunt Lou’s hefty husband, Harold, moved to stand by his wife, who’d perched on a pail turned upside down. The dog lay beside her.
Peter and Jessie walked back to them. “You’d go broke if you paid me by the hour, Mr. Phillips. My big, clumsy fingers move very slowly.”
The older man chuckled. “I haven’t told you how low my hourly wage is, have I?” Peter grinned.
Wheezing a deep laugh, Harold stiffly lowered himself to the ground. “Everybody calls me Harold except Louise when she’s mad at me.” Another deep, wheezy laugh.
Peter chuckled. Jessie’s uncle was beginning to grow on him.
Bent over the cooler, Jessie handed plastic-bagged sandwiches all around. “I hope you like sliced turkey and cheese.”
“Sounds good.” Peter accepted the sandwich and sat down in the grass beside her to unwrap it. He took a bite of the best turkey-and-cheese sandwich he’d ever tasted. “This is great. Special sauce?”
“Yes. Glad you like it.” She took a bite of her own sandwich.
He watched her chew, then realized he was staring again and looked away.
“You know, Jess…” Aunt Lou pursed her lips. “There’s no reason you can’t take Jake to see Peter’s condo. There are enough of us to pitch in and make the diner work without you for a day or two.”
Peter liked the way Aunt Lou thought.
Unfortunately, Jessie stared at the ground, obviously in no mood to entertain her aunt’s suggestion.
Harold cleared his throat. “I see you aren’t driving that anemic car anymore, Peter. Did you trade it in?”
Chewing, Peter nodded.
“Get tired of pouring that big body of yours in that little tin can?” he asked.
Peter swallowed the last bite. “I had more room in the MG than you might think, but it didn’t have a backseat for Jake’s car seat.” He looked at Jessie. “The SUV is safer, too. And it’ll be better in winter.”
Jessie nodded, the corners of her lips quirking as if they wanted to smile.
Interpreting her reaction as approval, Peter couldn’t help a grin.
Harold cleared his throat again. “I suppose the little sports job got a lot better gas mileage than the SUV does.”
Peter tore his gaze from Jessie to focus on her uncle. “Sure did. It was fun to drive, too.”
“You must be hurting for fun,” Aunt Lou interjected.
“I work long hours, so I take fun where I can find it.”
“Like picking strawberries on your day off?” Harold gave him a wink and raised his eyebrows Jessie’s way.
Had Harold picked up on Peter’s attraction to Jessie? He could only hope his feelings weren’t that obvious.
“Jake loves strawberries, so I wanted him to see where we get them,” Jessie explained. “And Peter was kind enough to agree to play with him here.” Jessie took a drink of her soda, apparently satisfied she’d set the record straight that Peter was here for Jake, not her.
And before Peter had seen her today, he would have agreed.
“Look at the little tyke, not a care in the world.” Aunt Lou gazed at Jake from her perch on the pail. “Jake and Lisa’s little Denise will have a grand time when she learns to walk,” Lou predicted.
“Playmates are pretty important to little kids, I guess.” Peter looked at Jessie.
Jessie raised an eyebrow.
Peter smiled. What was he trying to do, impress her with his knowledge about kids? Laughable.
“We’ll take a couple pails of berries to the diner for you to use or freeze, Jess,” her aunt interjected.
“Thank you, Aunt Lou. You know our customers love them.”
“It’s a good year. They’ll be delicious in that fancy, strawberry-cream wedding cake you promised to bake for Mary’s reception. She’s so excited about it. We appreciate it.”
“The cake is my wedding gift to her.”
“It will be perfect. If you’re in town the weekend of our daughter’s wedding, you’re invited, Peter.”
“Thank you.” Warmed by the inclusion, he glanced at Jessie. Was she okay with her aunt’s invitation to share a private family wedding? He couldn’t tell.
“Thanks to both of you for picking berries today. We hate to see them spoil when we can’t get to them fast enough, don’t we, Harold?”
Harold swallowed the last bite of his sandwich. “Yes, we do. Nice of you to pitch in.”
Lou stood up. “It’s time we go back to the house.”
“Be right there, Lou, just as soon as I can make these creaky knees cooperate.” Harold started to climb awkwardly to his feet.
Peter stood and reached to offer a hand.
Unlike Jessie, Harold used it for support. “Thanks.”
Peter gave a nod.
“We’ll stay and pick berries, Aunt Lou. If we wake Jake now, he’ll be cranky all afternoon.”
“Stay as long as you like. But you’ve picked enough berries. You can use a rest, Jess.”
“But—”
“Please.” Lou made the word sound like a command rather than a request. “Peter, you keep after her to take time off and take Jake to that place of yours. And while she’s there, pick her brain on how to spruce it up. She can turn anything into a warm, cozy home. If you don’t believe me, make her show you that cute little apartment she’s fixing up over the diner.”
Jessie had an apartment? Peter looked at her. “I’d like to see it.”
Jessie frowned as if she had no intention of ever showing him the place.
He dragged in a breath. Don’t get ahead of yourself, Sheridan.
“A little trip would do you a world of good, Jess. You used to enjoy Madison. Have you even been there since you and Neil—”
“Aunt…Lou.” Jessie’s tone emphasized the warning in her eyes.
Neil? Who was Neil?
Lou pursed her lips. “Well, see you at the diner, Jess, in time to help with the supper crowd. And we’ll look forward to seeing you at the church benefit tomorrow, Peter.” With that, she turned, walked to the truck, climbed in and pulled the door shut behind her.
“Come on, Scout.” Harold strode to the driver’s side and opened the door. The dog hopped aboard. Harold got in behind the wheel and slowly drove away, the wagon full of strawberries bouncing behind them.
Jessie busied her hands with picking grass and piling it together in a neat little stack.
She seemed uneasy. Was she worried he’d ask her about her trips to Madison with Neil? He had to give it a try. “You enjoy Madison?”
She glanced at him. “It’s a beautiful city
with the capitol and all the lakes.”
She sounded as vague as a travel advertisement. “Did you spend time on State Street?”
She nodded.
“With Neil?”
She concentrated on the grass in her fingers. “Yes. With Neil.”
She said his name with far too much regard. “Does he live in Madison?”
“No. California.”
“California.” Much better. “Then I suppose you don’t see him often?”
With a brush of her hand, she scattered the grass she’d so carefully piled together. “It’s been two years.”
Two years. He liked the sound of that. But it was obvious Jessie didn’t. “What happened two years ago?”
“What happened two years ago?” She sighed. “We ended our engagement.”
Wow. She’d been engaged? Was her broken engagement the reason behind the sadness in her eyes? He should let the whole thing drop, but the seriousness of her tone wouldn’t let him. “Are you still in love with him?”
“Of course not,” she said too quickly.
Peter swallowed hard. “What happened?”
She shook her head.
He willed himself not to push his luck. Continuing his line of questioning would only alienate her. He needed to win her trust, not demand answers she wasn’t willing to give.
Anyway, how much more did he need to hear to know she was hurting over a failed relationship? Neil must be pretty special if she was engaged to marry him.
And she was his son’s mother, that’s all. Well, not all. She was a beautiful, loving woman, and he was attracted to her. No mystery there.
He dragged in a deep breath. With a chaser of apprehension. He’d never known a woman like Jessie. Oh, he worked with strong, capable, beautiful women like she was. But Jessie had a softness about her and a fresh glow that enticed him to look at things with new eyes. Small things like reading his son a book or picking strawberries on a sunny day took on an importance all their own.
What would it take to be the kind of guy a woman like Jessie could fall for? Solid, family-oriented, who enjoyed the simple things? Because no question in his mind, his attraction to her could become more if he allowed it to.
Of course, he wouldn’t allow it to. He couldn’t. He already had a steep learning curve to climb just building a relationship with his eighteen-month-old son. He sure wasn’t fool enough to think he also could master a relationship with the boy’s mother.