She had reached to move the end table when behind her came, “I knew I couldn’t trust you.”
Jerking to a standing position, she looked around to find Ryan standing with his shoulder leaning against the wall.
“Are you checking up on me?”
“Do you need to be checked up on?”
“No.” The word didn’t come out as confidently as she would have liked.
He came toward her. “I think you might.” He placed his hands on the table and looked at her. “Where do you want this?”
She pointed to the other end of the sofa, where she’d cleared a space by moving a floor lamp.
Ryan moved the table into the spot. He ran a finger over a painted swirl on it. “This type of artwork is interesting.”
“Thank you.”
He looked at her. “You did this?”
“Don’t act so surprised.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He looked around the room. “You did all of this?”
She stood straighter. “I did, even down to making the cushions and curtains.”
“I’m impressed. I like it.”
She chuckled dryly. “Now I’m surprised. Joshua hated this type of decorating. He said it made us look like we couldn’t afford better. I put most of it away when he came home. Pulled it out again when he had gone again.”
Ryan looked at her for a long moment. “Well, I like it. It’s you.”
She didn’t think anyone had said anything nicer to her in a long time. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“You’re welcome. Now, if I go paint another wall, can I trust you to behave?”
Phoebe glared at him. “Yes, I’ll put our supper on to warm. Will that make you happy?”
“Yes.” With that, he went off whistling down the hall.
Half an hour later Phoebe went to check on Ryan’s progress. He was getting ready to start on the last wall. The others were already a pale yellow. A cheerful and happy color.
The room was small but he seemed very efficient. She watched as he bent to apply paint to the roller in the tray. The muscles on his back rippled. He reached up and brought the roller down along the wall. His biceps flexed and released.
Phoebe shook her head. She had been without a man for far too long and yet was far too pregnant to consider having a relationship with one now. Still, she was alive …
Ryan turned. By the look in his eyes and the way he watched her like a cat after a bird, he knew what she’d been doing. She’d never been much of a blusher but she felt the heat rising to her face.
“So what do you think?”
Thankfully he hadn’t made a comment about her staring. “It looks beautiful.”
“The paint goes on great.”
She stepped farther into the room. “This isn’t your first time to do this.”
“No. My foster-father was a painter. I started working with him when I was fourteen.” He moved back to filling the roller again.
Phoebe wasn’t sure she should ask but she was too curious not to. “You were a foster-child?”
“Yeah. I never knew my father and my mother was a drug addict. I was five when I was taken away from her.”
Her heart hurt for that little boy. “Oh, Ryan.”
He shrugged. “It was tough but it was a long time ago.”
Something about his attitude told her it still affected him. His focus turned to refilling the roller again.
“So your foster-father let you go to work with him?”
“It was more like made me go. I was a difficult teen and he thought it would help keep me in line. Something about idle hands leaving room for trouble.”
“And did it keep you in line?”
“Not really. I ended up going into the army the day after I graduated from high school. It made my foster-parents happy, and me, too.”
“Even your foster-mother?”
He glanced back at her. “She didn’t mind, either. She was so exhausted from dealing with the smaller kids and my behavior she was glad to see me go. I should be finished here in about thirty minutes. Any chance I could get something to eat?”
He was apparently through discussing his childhood. She would see to it that her child felt loved and wanted. “It’ll be ready.”
Ryan washed up in the hall bathroom. Splashing water on his face, he looked into the mirror. What was he doing? He could feel himself getting in too deep. He’d enjoyed the afternoon more than he would have ever imagined. He spent most of his off hours in his shop and he found he rather liked being out in the daylight, spending time with someone.
He entered the kitchen. There he found more of the same decor as the rest of the house. The table had four chairs, each painted a different color yet they seem to complement each other. The eclectic look seemed to suit Phoebe.
The table was set. When was the last time he’d eaten dinner off something other than a takeout plate?
“You may sit there.” Phoebe pointed to the chair closest to him and turned back to the oven. She pulled out a casserole pan and placed it in the center of the table.
Ryan leaned in close and inhaled. “Smells wonderful.”
He didn’t miss her pleased smile. Phoebe would make a great mother. She found pleasure in doing for others.
She handed him a serving spoon. “Help yourself.”
Ryan didn’t need to be told twice. He scooped two large helpings onto his plate. Phoebe took one. When she picked up her fork, he did also.
“I see you were taught manners. Not eating until everyone else does.”
“My foster-mother was a real stickler about them.” He put a forkful into his mouth. It was the best thing he’d eaten in years. “This is good. Real good.”
“Thank you. It’s my grandmother’s chicken casserole recipe.”
He ate a plateful and one more before he sat back and looked at Phoebe. She had only eaten about half of what she’d put on her plate.
“You need to eat more.”
She looked down at her middle. “I don’t think I need to get any bigger.”
“You look wonderful.”
“You are feeding me compliments now.”
Ryan chuckled. “That wasn’t my intent. But I guess I am.”
“I’ll take them any way I can get them.” It was nice to be noticed by a male on any level.
Ryan pushed his chair back. “I guess I’d better get the paint supplies cleaned up.”
He left and she cleared the table. When done, she went to see if she could help Ryan. He was in the process of moving the desk.
“That’s heavy. Let me help you.”
Ryan jerked around. “You will not.”
“There’s no way you can move that desk by yourself.”
“It’s all in the technique.” He gripped it by each side and began walking it from one corner to the other until he’d moved it to the doorway.
“Do you have an old towel I can use?” Ryan asked.
“Just a second.” Phoebe went into the bathroom and brought back the largest one she could find. She handed it to Ryan.
“You stay out here.” He moved the desk out into the hall. Taking the towel, he laid it on the floor in front of the desk. Lifting one end he asked, “Can you put the towel under the desk as far as possible?”
Glad she could be of some help she did as he requested.
He then lowered the desk. “Perfect.” Gathering the corners of the towel into his hands he slowly pulled the desk over the wooden flooring and down the hall.
Phoebe stepped into the doorway, letting him pass. When he was by, she stepped out and began to push.
Coming to a stop, Ryan growled, “What’re you doing?”
“Helping.”
“You shouldn’t—”
“Stop telling me what to do. I’m not really doing much.”
A grunt of disbelief came from his direction but the desk started moving again. She continued to help maneuver it, seeing that it didn’t nick the walls or hit an
y other furniture. When the desk quit moving, she looked over it. Her gaze met Ryan’s. For a second his intense gray gaze held hers. Warmth washed over her. Could he see things she’d rather keep hidden?
“Why did you stop?”
His mouth quirked. “I don’t know where you want this.”
Phoebe tried to squeeze through the space between the desk and the wall.
“Hold on a sec and let me move it.” Ryan grabbed the desk and shifted it so she could join him.
“I want it put over there.” She pointed to the space she had cleared under a window.
“Okay.” He began walking and shifting the desk until it was in place. “I’ll go get the chair.” He left.
The desk really needed to be centered under the window. Phoebe placed one hip against the side and pushed. It only moved a few centimeters.
“I can’t leave you alone for a minute.” Ryan’s deep voice came from behind her.
“It needs to be centered under the window.”
“Then why didn’t you say something?”
He put his hands on her waist or what had once been her waist. Her breath caught. Ryan gently directed her out of the way, then quickly put space between them. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Ryan acted as if he’d been too personal with her. “It’s okay,” she said.
“Stand over there, out of the way, and tell me when I have it where you want it.”
“You do know I’m just pregnant, not an invalid.”
He gave her a pointed look. “I’m well aware of that but some things you shouldn’t be doing, whether you’re pregnant or not. This is one of them. Now, tell me where you want it.”
Shifting the desk an inch, he looked at her for confirmation. It still wasn’t where she wanted it. “Move it to the right just a little.”
Had he muttered “Women” under his breath?
“That’s it. Perfect. Thank you.”
He stood and rubbed his lower back.
She stepped closer. “Did you hurt yourself?”
He grinned. “No. I was just afraid that you might ask me to move something else.”
“Hey, you’re the one who volunteered.”
“That I did. I might ought to think about it before I do that again.” He continued stretching.
“Might ought to?” She liked his accent.
“Ought to. Texas. Southern. Ought to go. Ought to get.”
Phoebe laughed. “I’ll have to remember that. Use it sometime.”
“I think you ought not make fun of me.”
“And I think you ought not be so sensitive.”
They both laughed.
It was the first real laugh she’d shared with someone in a long time. It felt good.
“Well, I guess I had better go. It’s getting late.”
“I really appreciate all your work today. The baby’s room looks wonderful. I can hardly wait to go to some garage sales and look for a chest of drawers.”
“And how do you plan to get something like that home?”
“I’ll worry about that if I find one. Some people are willing to deliver if I ask.”
“I don’t have any mothers due for a couple of weeks so why don’t I go with you on Saturday?”
She like the idea but didn’t want to take advantage of him. “I hate to take up another one of your weekends.”
“I’d like to go. I’ve got a buddy who has a truck and lets me borrow it sometimes.”
The truck was a plus and it would be nice to have company. “I won’t turn that down.”
“Great. I’ll be here early Saturday to pick you up.”
Ryan headed out the front door. “See you then.”
“Bye.” Phoebe watched from the veranda as Ryan drove away. She could get used to having him around. Seeing him on Saturday gave her something to look forward to. Of course she appreciated his help but more than that she liked him. There was an easy way about him that made life seem like fun. She was far too attracted to him already. Joshua had been right about him. Maybe she had found someone she could depend on.
Warmth lingered where Ryan had touched her. A ripple of awareness had gone up her spine. What was she thinking? Joshua had been dead for less than a year and she had a baby on the way, and here she was mooning over Ryan.
Still, Saturday couldn’t come soon enough.
CHAPTER FOUR
RYAN PULLED THE truck to the curb in front of Phoebe’s house just as the sun became warm.
What was he doing? The question kept rotating through his mind like a revolving door. He was too interested in Phoebe. But it was hard not to be. Those large, vulnerable eyes drew him in. Still, he admired the way she had stood up to him when he’d stepped over the line to bossing her around. The brief moments he’d touched her waist had told him that he could want more than just to help her. That wasn’t going to happen. Still, he’d looked forward to spending the day with her.
Phoebe met him halfway up the walk. She wore jeans and a simple white shirt. Her eyes sparkled and for a woman of her size she walked with a peppy step. A smile covered her face. She reminded him of springtime. A fresh start.
If he’d seen any woman look more alluring, he couldn’t remember when. “Mornin’.”
“Hi. You ready to go? We need to get going. You know the early bird gets the worm.” She carried a newspaper and passed him on the way to the truck, leaving the smell of flowers swirling in the air. He was tempted to breathe deeply. Let his mind commit it to memory.
“Uh … yeah. I’m ready.” Ryan wasn’t able to keep the astonishment out of his voice. He hurried to join her. Phoebe was a woman on a mission.
She had climbed into the passenger seat and closed the door before he reached the truck. He took his place behind the wheel. “So where’s the fire?”
“What?” She looked up from the open paper.
“What’s the hurry?”
“I think they have just what I need at a sale and I don’t want it to get bought up before we get there.”
“Why didn’t you call me? I could have come earlier.”
“I didn’t know for sure until I phoned a few minutes ago. They wouldn’t promise to hold it for me so we’ve got to go.”
Ryan grinned as he pulled away from the curb. There was nothing like a woman looking for a deal. “So where are we headed?”
“South. It’s about forty minutes away.” Phoebe gave him directions.
“South it is.”
They traveled in silence until they were out of the city and he was driving along a two-lane highway.
“Do you have an address for the place we’re going?”
Phoebe read it to him out of the paper.
“I have no idea where that is.” Ryan kept his eyes on the road as a delivery truck whizzed by them.
“It’s another half hour down this road, then we have to turn off.”
“Have you always redone furniture?” It was ironic that she enjoyed something that was so similar to his passion.
“I’ve been doing it for a few years. I found I needed to fill the time when Joshua was away.”
“You were lonely, weren’t you?”
Phoebe didn’t immediately answer. “It wasn’t so hard at first. But it got more so as time went on.”
Her melancholy tone implied that something more than loneliness had pushed her toward finding a hobby.
“Joshua didn’t care for my painting taking up my time when he was home so I always put things away then.”
He remembered what she’d said before about putting away her painted furniture because Joshua hadn’t like it. That had surprised him. It didn’t sound like the Joshua he’d known. Maybe he had changed since they’d known each other in the service. Ryan needed to find a safer subject. “Looks like it’s going to be a pretty day.”
“Yes, it does. I’m glad. I don’t want anything I buy to get wet.”
“I brought a covering in case we need it.”
She gave him a
smile of admiration.
The feeling of being a conquering hero went through him. What was happening to him? He smiled back. “Glad I could be of help.”
“You’re going to need to take a left turn in a couple of miles.”
“You know this area well.”
“This isn’t the first time I’ve been down this way to garage sales.”
They lapsed into silence until Phoebe began giving him directions regularly. They turned off the main road onto a dirt road that led up to a farmhouse with a steep metal roof and a porch circling it on three sides. A large barn with its doors opened wide stood off to the side. Two other cars were parked nearby.
“They keep the stuff they’re selling in the barn,” Phoebe said, with the door already open.
She hurried to the barn and Ryan joined her halfway there. They entered the dim interior. In an unused stall tables had been set up that contained all types of bottles, kitchen utensils, purses and other small items. On the other side were the larger items. Phoebe headed to them. She studied a cabinet that came up to his chest. It was much too high for her to make good use of it.
Phoebe pulled the drawers out and pushed them back in. “Would you mind tipping it forward so I can look at the back’s construction?”
He had to give her credit for being knowledgeable and thorough. Ryan did as she requested.
She knocked against the wood and made a sound in her throat. Her hair curtained her face so he couldn’t see what she was thinking. Running a hand over the edge and back again, she made another sound. Whether it was positive or negative he couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter. He was enthralled just watching her.
“You can let it down now.”
Ryan lowered it to the ground.
She stepped back and studied it. “I think it’ll do.”
“May I make a suggestion?”
She looked at him as if she’d almost forgotten he was there. He didn’t like that idea. That he could that easily disappear from her thoughts. Raising her chin and cocking her head, she gave him a questioning look. “Yes?”
“I think this chest is too tall for you. You can’t even see over it.”
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