by Jodi Thomas
“May I help you?” the woman said, making little effort to appear friendly. “If you need Mr. Wright, you need to go to the front door.”
Martha puffed up. “I’m not here on business, but on a social call. Would you tell him Martha Q Patterson has come for a visit?”
“Sure,” the girl said, leaving Martha Q standing in the doorway.
Martha Q watched the young woman closely. She wasn’t special, but more medium in every aspect except her hair. The girl seemed blessed with a double dose of hair that wasn’t light enough to be blond. As she talked into a phone by the kitchen counter, Martha Q noticed wonderful smells floating her way. The girl was baking, not one, but several things.
Tyler swung through the door that must lead to the business office beyond. He held a stack of papers in one hand and his glasses in the other. When he saw Martha Q, he smiled. “Come in, please. This is a nice surprise. Have you news from Kate?”
Martha put all the pieces together and figured out what he hadn’t said. First, he obviously hadn’t heard from Kate. Second, he’d been working, and third, the girl worked for him or he would have introduced her at once. Martha Q organized his problems. She couldn’t hit him with all the truth at once. A young girl around would never do. Tyler needed an old housekeeper with maybe two or three unmarried daughters. Somebody needed to tell the man that he should forget about Kate. If she’d wanted him she would have let him know a year ago. And, of course, at some point Martha Q had to bring up the subject about him being so nice.
She decided to start out in neutral. “I thought I’d come by to ask your advice about my club if you’re not too busy.”
“Of course not.” He glanced back toward his office. “I’m afraid my office is a mess. I’m working on taxes. If Autumn doesn’t mind, we might have coffee in the kitchen.” He pointed with his glasses. “Mrs. Patterson, I’d like you to meet my new housekeeper, Autumn Smith.”
The cook nodded, a bowl tucked into the crook of her arm as she stirred.
“Nice to meet you, Autumn. Please, call me Martha Q.”
Autumn nodded once and turned to face Tyler, her words hesitant. “I could get you two coffee from the break room as soon as I take out the next batch of cookies.”
“Don’t bother, I’ll do it, and I bet I can talk Martha Q into trying a few of your warm cookies.” He smiled at the girl in his kind way, then turned back to Martha Q. “Autumn agreed to fill in for my housekeeper starting Friday and I think she’s been cooking ever since. Last night she put four dozen cookies out for the family visiting, and not one was left. Today she says she’s getting prepared for Monday, when we’ll have two funerals, and last night she made the best stew I’ve ever tasted.”
When the girl looked up, Tyler added, “My staff thinks we may have found a treasure.”
Martha Q took a better look at the girl as Tyler went to fill the coffee cups. “So you’re a cook, are you, girl?”
“I guess so. I can read a recipe and the staff around here isn’t too picky. Mr. Wright says it’s not usually this busy on the weekends.”
“You interested in getting married?”
Autumn finally stopped stirring and looked up at her. “No.”
“Why not?”
Tyler came back in talking when he hit the door. “So what’s this visit all about, Martha Q?”
Autumn turned away without answering the question, and Martha Q decided right then and there that she didn’t like this young woman. Too much past piled into too few years of living.
Martha Q asked what he thought about a few things as the girl listened and cooked. Tyler seemed distracted and was of little help, although he did suggest she contact the churches that had singles classes.
After downing a half dozen cookies, Martha Q decided to postpone her talk with Tyler. She waddled out of the kitchen and headed home. If she’d known starting a club was going to be so much trouble, she would have taken up quilting instead.
Chapter 24
TRUMAN FARM ON LONE OAK ROAD
NOAH SPENT MOST OF THE DAY SATURDAY SLEEPING IN the quiet old house. He remembered meeting the nurse who talked about starting therapy on Monday and his wife, Cindy, who told him several times that he needed to eat. Reagan was around, but she didn’t say much. He couldn’t tell if she was glad to have him back or not.
That first night Noah had a dream that she crawled in bed with him, but he knew it had only been a wish.
Sunday he spent the day dozing and eating a little more. Late in the afternoon he thought he heard someone knock, but he couldn’t tell if it came from the front of the house or the back. His room, the former dining room, was halfway between them and had no view of either.
A few minutes later he heard Rea whispering to someone in the hallway just beyond a door.
“Thanks for coming by to check on Uncle Jeremiah,” Rea said.
“I figured he’d be fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”
The voice was low and rough. Noah knew he’d heard it before, but he couldn’t quite place it.
“I’m always worried about you, Rea. You’re doing too much trying to run this place, taking care of the old man and going to school full time.”
“I’m fine, Brandon. I just need a little rest.”
“How about I take you to the show Wednesday night? We could eat Mexican food first.” He laughed. “If anyone sees us together you can always claim you were kidnapped.”
She must have shaken her head because Noah thought he heard Brandon swear, then add, “By the way, where were you last week? I came by twice and both times Foster, the palace guard, told me you’d gone to the hospital to pick up something.”
“I had,” she said.
“Well, how am I going to date you, Rea, if we never go out and I only see you five minutes every weekend?”
“I told you, we’re not dating, Bran. I don’t have time right now.”
“I know. I know. Jeremiah’s sick. You have to study. The orchard needs work. I’ve heard it all. Just promise me one thing. When your world does settle down, you’ll go out with me on a real date. Assuming I’m not married with five children by then.”
Noah heard Rea laugh and say, “You got a deal.”
Then he heard shuffling in the hallway and a door open and close. Then nothing.
Noah leaned back, staring at the ceiling. In the two years he’d been on the road chasing rodeos, he’d never thought that Rea might be dating. He had no claim on her. In fact, he had more in common with Brandon. She didn’t want to date him either.
Only she hadn’t mentioned to Bran that she’d brought a broken-down cowboy home from the hospital. He knew she wouldn’t, but he wasn’t sure she would have lied if Bran had asked her directly.
He closed his eyes when Rea came into the room. He didn’t want her to know he’d overheard her conversation with Bran.
She moved around his bed, straightening his covers, picking up the tray from supper. When she turned down the light, he slowly opened his eyes. She was standing by the window staring out into the side yard, where she had hung a dozen wind chimes. Direct wind couldn’t reach the area, but the chimes still tingled softly. They reminded him of her, never allowing life to touch her directly, always living in the shelter she’d found here on the Truman farm.
Noah remembered a poem once about a desert flower blooming so far away that no one would ever see its beauty or smell its perfume. Reagan was like that. He’d just never noticed until now.
Hell, he didn’t care if she was friends with Brandon Biggs. The big guy had always seen the worth of her. Bran was probably a better friend than Noah would ever be. Only problem Noah saw was that he didn’t want Brandon being more than just a friend.
Late in the night he woke as she climbed into bed beside him. He didn’t move until he thought she was asleep, and then he circled her with his arm and pulled her close. Part of him wanted to protect her from Brandon—obviously the big guy was attracted to her—but another part of Noah wa
nted to call Bran and ask the man to protect her from him. Noah knew he wasn’t near ready to settle down, and staying in Harmony for more than a visit would be torture. He would break her heart if he let it go beyond friends because he knew she’d never leave this farm.
Chapter 25
MATHESON RANCH
DENVER MADE SURE HE RAN INTO LIZ AND GABE ON SATURDAY, and as always, they invited him to Sunday dinner at the Matheson ranch. He’d been there for dinner so many times he probably could have just gone. Except for Claire, the whole family made him feel like he was one of them. Aunt Pat even made him help with the salad and Saralynn always acted like he’d come to see her, but Denver ached just to see Claire. He needed her more than air.
As usual, all the Mathesons were there: Claire; her brother, Hank, and his wife, Alex; her sister, Liz, and Liz’s husband, Gabe; Claire’s mother; and the two great-aunts, of course. To round the number out to a dozen Saralynn had invited her friend from school, a cute, chubby eight-year-old named Violet, who constantly giggled. The girl’s mother came along. No one really knew why. Violet and Saralynn were having a sleepover, so the mom could have simply dropped the girl off, but she’d settled in.
Before the dinner bell rang, Denver figured it out when Violet’s mother told Gabe that she wanted to be a writer.
Gabe flashed his best friend a look that said Save me, but Denver had no intention of giving up a chance to talk to Claire. He knew all he’d have to say to the writer-to-be was What do you want to write? and she’d be talking for at least an hour.
When they all went in to dinner, Violet’s mother took Denver’s usual chair next to Gabe. Denver hesitated, feeling like the last one standing in musical chairs. Then he spotted an opening. The chair next to Claire. As casually as he could, he slipped into the seat.
She didn’t even look at him.
As the meal progressed, with two or three people always talking at once, Denver slid his hand along the side of Claire’s leg. She jerked a little and pulled her leg away. When he didn’t advance, she moved her knee against his, silently asking for more.
Denver grinned, thinking that maybe if he quit advancing, she’d come to him.
Above the table they nodded and laughed as everyone else talked. Most of the time they weren’t even looking in the direction of the other. But under the table he was memorizing the feel of her long, perfect leg.
When they both stood to help with cleanup before dessert, he whispered, “Next time wear a skirt.”
The aunts and Claire’s mother were in the kitchen listening to Violet’s mother talk as they ate their pie. Gabe and Hank pulled their wives into the living room to cuddle and watch a rerun of the Texas Tech game. Saralynn and Violet vanished into Saralynn’s room to play Chutes and Ladders.
Denver picked up Claire’s dessert and waited to see where she planned to light. Wherever she settled, he would be in the same room.
“Everyone seems busy,” she said, so calmly he was almost fooled into believing she hadn’t thought of him at all. “Would you like to see my aunts’ new greenhouse?”
He stared at her and smiled. Without drawing any attention, he followed her out the back door and along a walk to a small glass greenhouse. The Matheson place already looked like a village with Claire’s mother’s pottery studio, a huge barn for horses, a tool shed big enough to work on more than one car at a time, and several other sheds and garages.
Following Claire down a path to the new greenhouse, Denver noticed rows of flower beds ready for spring.
“They start growing from seeds about this time of year, but of course, the perennials that were clipped back in fall are now given light and full attention. By the last of April they’ll be beautiful and ready to set out.”
She sounded cold as a tour guide, and Denver hated it. If he weren’t carrying two slices of pie, he’d remind her that they were definitely not strangers.
When she opened the door he set the pie down on the first table as she searched for the light pull.
“Leave it dark,” he ordered as he pulled her hard against him with one hand and locked the door with the other. He felt like he might die of hunger for her, and when their lips touched he knew she felt the same. He pressed her against him, loving the way she trembled at his touch and how her warm breath came in rapid gulps against his throat when he broke the kiss.
“Wish we were in a hotel room, darling. Even in the dark a glass house doesn’t feel safe.” He closed his hand over her hip and felt her straighten, pressing her breasts against his chest. “I need you so much, Claire,” he whispered.
He had half the buttons of her blouse undone when someone knocked on the door.
Claire jumped away and pulled her blouse together.
“Mommy,” Saralynn said as she knocked again. “Are you in there? I want to show Violet the baby flowers.”
Denver raked his hair back and picked up the pie. When Claire pulled on the light, she’d managed to button her blouse. She flipped the lock as he walked to the center of the room and downed two bites of pie.
When the girls came in he watched Claire. Her face was flushed, her lips were plump, and the buttons were mismatched with their holes, but he didn’t think the little girls noticed. They moved though the rows of tables.
“Don’t touch anything,” Claire said calmly. “And turn out the light after you’ve looked around.” She picked up her plate and walked out of the room.
In the darkness between the greenhouse and the back door, Denver held her pie as she rebuttoned her blouse. “We have to meet someplace where we can be alone,” he whispered. “I’m about to die from the need for you, and don’t bother lying to me and saying you don’t feel the same.”
She nodded. “What time are you leaving tomorrow?”
“Dawn. Can you make it over tonight?”
She shook her head.
“When are you traveling again?” He wanted to touch her, but with a plate in each hand that was impossible.
“Not for another month.”
“I’ll be back a few days next week. I’ll let you know my schedule.” He always did when he was home, but she never came to his house.
They heard the girls moving slowly down the path. Since Saralynn had been told she only had to use one crutch, she’d doubled her speed. Denver moved on and Claire stayed to offer any help Saralynn might need.
When Denver reached the kitchen, he found Gabe waiting for him. “Alex said she’d take Liz home. It appears my sister-in-law wants to see the nursery. They didn’t seem to want us along.” Gabe glanced over at Claire, then back to Denver. “If you’re ready to leave I thought I’d catch a ride with you.”
“Sure.” Denver knew if he stayed any longer it would look odd. “Let me thank the aunts for the meal and I’ll meet you at the car.” He wouldn’t have any more time with Claire. They were lucky to get the time alone they’d had.
A few minutes later, when he climbed in beside Gabe, Denver didn’t have time to buckle up before Gabe said, “How long are you going to let this thing with Claire go on?”
“What thing?” Denver played dumb even though he knew Gabe wouldn’t fall for it.
“You think I’m nuts,” Gabe mumbled. “Everyone knows how it is with you two. We see the way you look at her, and worse, the way she looks back. Aunt Pat even said one day that she thought you two were smitten.”
“Hell,” Denver swore. “What do you suggest I do? And giving her up is not an option.”
Gabe shrugged. “Tell her you love her. Ask her to marry you? Take her to bed? I don’t know. Do what you have to do before you both explode with longing.”
“I’ve tried everything to get more time alone with her. I can’t even get her to go out to eat, much less drop by my house. I haven’t spent enough time talking to her to know how I feel about her or how she feels about me. All I know is I’m addicted to her. I haven’t looked at another woman since I met her.” Denver figured he probably looked as miserable as he felt. He looked out
into the night and added, “What do you suggest next?”
Gabe slowed the car in the middle of the road and looked at his best friend. “How about stop trying.”
Denver shook his head. “I can’t give her up.”
“I didn’t say that.” Gabe grinned. “Maybe if you stop chasing her, she’ll stop running.”
“That thought crossed my mind.” Denver let out a long, defeated breath. “How long has everyone known?”
Gabe laughed. “Since the first night you went to dinner. You both disappeared for a while and when you came back you looked like you’d been in a fight and she looked like she’d just stepped out of an open-air jet.”
“I don’t suppose the old aunts know too? I’ll probably never be invited to the Matheson dinners again.”
Gabe smiled. “They’re holding the bets on what will happen, and to my shock everyone is in your corner. How do you think you just happened to get the chair by Claire tonight?”
“Does Claire know you all know?”
“No,” Gabe admitted. “We all decided you could tell her after the wedding. She’d be mad at the whole family if she thought we even suspected.”
“Why’d you tell me?” Denver wished he didn’t know.
“Because you saved my life a few times and I thought I’d return the favor. Stop chasing her, Lieutenant, and give her a chance to come to you.”
Denver stared out into the lonely night. The only sound he heard was a coyote’s howl. He might as well give his best friend’s idea a try; otherwise it was only a matter of time before he stood on the nearest mound of dirt and howled at the moon.
Chapter 26
WRIGHT FUNERAL HOME
WHEN HE FINISHED WORKING FOR THE NIGHT, TYLER Wright walked from his study to the kitchen wishing Kate had e-mailed a note. He left his coffee cup in the sink and made sure Little Lady had plenty of food and water, but his mind was full of worry about his hazel-eyed friend Kate. He knew her assignments could be anywhere in the world. He didn’t like to think of her traveling alone, going to strange cities, working in places where the streets might not be safe.