by James, Sandy
After only a few moments, Lucas could see Chelsea’s face taking shape in the drawing. “Wow. You’re good,” he commented as he watched her sketch. He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t respond as she concentrated on her task.
Chelsea quickly grew restless, so Lucas fished a sipper cup and a small bottle of juice from the diaper bag. He shook the bottle and opened it before pouring the liquid in the cup and securing the lid. Chelsea clapped her hands, took it from him, and began to suck long swigs of apple juice. Then she smiled showing all four of the tiny white teeth she’d acquired in her short life. Lucas laughed and kissed her forehead.
Joy worked furiously to get the fantastic expressions she saw committed to paper. It was pure bliss to draw someone so uncomplicated. So often, it was mentally draining to get to know a subject well enough to do justice to the portrait. She had a passing thought about how difficult the man now sitting next to her was to draw. He seemed so complex. His face held so many nuances that she was still unable to sketch him well. She just couldn’t capture his likeness to her satisfaction. But Chelsea’s childhood innocence was easy to portray.
Picking up Chelsea, Lucas stood up. “I hate to interrupt, but I want to watch this race. Would you like to go with us?”
“Go where?”
“Up to the finish line. Chelsea’s dad is driving one of his own horses. If he wins, you can come into the winner’s circle with us for the picture.”
“I couldn’t intrude,” she insisted with a shake of her head.
“It’s not an intrusion. Horsemen love to have guests in winner’s circle pictures.”
Joy smiled and tucked a bothersome curl behind her ear. “I’d love to.”
As the announcer’s voice droned through the speakers, reciting all the post parade information, Lucas held Chelsea up so that she could see her father. Joy knew immediately when the girl saw him because she began to kick her legs excitedly and squeal, “Daadee!”
One of drivers dressed in maroon and gold gave them a small wave as he passed.
“That’s my older brother, Brian. He’s the leading driver so far this season,” he informed her with pride in each word.
Joy nodded, unable to keep her eyes off the animals. “They’re beautiful,” she finally said in a reverent whisper.
“Yeah, they are.” He tried to hold his wiggling niece. Joy clapped her hands and smiled at Chelsea who leaned over to reach for her. Joy took the little girl into her arms. Lucas laughed and tousled Chelsea’s hair. “She really likes you.”
“I adore her.” Joy turned Chelsea so she could watch the horses.
Lucas gawked at his guest, hoping she wouldn’t notice. To his relief, Joy was transfixed by the race, just as she had been while working on her art. Her round face became a kaleidoscope of different emotions, and each was easy to interpret. She hid nothing, enjoyed everything.
As the horses maneuvered for position on the far side of the track, Brian and his horse moved to the front of the pack. She turned to Lucas and favored him with a broad smile. Her eyes were such a dark shade of brown, darker even than the Arabs he had known. She was bewitching.
As the horses turned toward the final stretch, Joy bounced Chelsea on her hip and cheered. Lucas wasn’t sure who she was cheering for because she was using her own exotic language again.
“Ate batyad nyerte meg a dijat!” she shouted as Brian’s horse won the race.
“What did you say?”
“He won! Your brother won!” she replied with another of her intoxicating smiles.
Lucas took Chelsea from Joy’s arms. Reaching down to take Joy’s hand into his, he guided her to the winner’s circle where they waited patiently as Brian slowly returned with his horse. Joy jumped in obvious surprise when the track van suddenly pulled up beside the fence and Samantha came flying out.
Jogging out to grab the winning horse’s bridle, his sister-in-law led the horse from the track to the bark-lined area framed in flower boxes. Brian slid off the racing sulky and held the reins as he followed her. Lucas saw them exchange a quick look of surprise at their unexpected guest.
Lucas gave Joy a small push to encourage her to stand closer to Brian, and then he pointed at the camera. “Say cheese.” The photographer snapped their picture to commemorate the victory.
As Sam escorted the horse back out of the winner’s circle and returned him to Brian’s control, she turned to her daughter and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. “Hi, Baby.”
“Mama,” Chelsea squealed.
Sam gave her another quick kiss. “Uncle Lucas will bring you back to the truck in a little bit. Bye, Baby.” Sam waved and then crawled back into the van.
Lucas took Chelsea’s little hand in his and helped her wave to her mother before turning back to Joy. “Please take her for a second,” he said as he handed Chelsea to her. He jogged over to the photographer and exchanged a few words before he hurried back to Joy’s side and took his squirming niece back into his arms. “How much more time do you need to finish her picture?” Lucas asked as he held the gate open to let Joy back onto the tarmac.
“I have what I need. I’d like to use the sketches to make a painting, but if you need it now—”
“No,” Lucas interrupted with a small shake of his head. “I don’t need it now. Her mother’s birthday isn’t for a few days. How long do you need to finish it?”
Joy appeared to consider her answer for a few moments. “I could get it done tomorrow. Give me another day to get it framed.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
She waived the notion away with a flick of her wrist. “Of course you want it framed. It’s a gift, isn’t it?”
Chelsea began to fuss, and Lucas realized the little girl had reached her limit for the night. “Look, I need to get her back to her mom soon. Are you staying for a while?”
Joy glanced around for a moment. Her gaze settled on a dark-haired man who was entirely occupied flirting with a couple of twenty-something girls. “Looks like a little while,” she finally replied with a chuckle.
For some odd reason, Lucas didn’t want to think Joy belonged with that man. Am I jealous? Why on earth would I be jealous?
“Let me drop Chelsea off with Samantha and then I’ll be back. We can make plans for me to pick up the painting, and I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“A surprise? For me?” she asked with a note of eagerness in her voice. Lucas nodded. “I’ll go work on the sketches,” Joy said as they walked away from the track and headed back toward the picnic table. She sat down and began to look over the drawings she’d made.
Lucas stopped beside her. “I’ll be back as fast as I can. Will you wait for me?”
Joy’s gaze locked with his, her dark eyes strangely serious set against a background of her sweet smiling face. “I’ll always wait for you. As long as it takes.”
Lucas cocked his head at her peculiar reply. Why did it give him a wave of comfort?
I’ll always wait for you. As long as it takes.
Just what in the hell are you doing, Lucas?
He didn’t wait for his own reply as he turned and strode toward the parking lot.
* * * *
Carrying Chelsea in one arm and her car seat in the other, Lucas walked to the familiar silver truck. Looking around, he spied Samantha leading the freshly-bathed gelding toward him. Lucas waited as she loaded the bay into the trailer and hung a big net full of green hay close enough for the horse to reach. As the animal greedily tugged at the food, Sam closed the gate to secure him inside.
“Thanks for watching her,” Sam said as she reached for her daughter. Chelsea went quickly into Sam’s arms and hugged her mother. “I promise not to abuse you too much now that you’re back.”
“You know how much I hate watching her,” Lucas replied as he kissed his niece’s chubby cheek.
Sam laid Chelsea on the front seat and proceeded to change her diaper. When she was done, she handed the yawning little girl to Lucas, and he gingerl
y buckled her into the car seat. As he pulled himself away from the truck, he knew it wouldn’t take Sam long to start in with the inquisition. The woman had an absolute inability to leave well enough alone. Of course, dragging Joy into the picture had been an open invitation.
“So who is she?” Sam asked with a shrewd smile.
“No one,” he answered knowing that the response wouldn’t satisfy her in the least.
“Yeah, right. What’s her name?”
“Let it go, Sam. She’s just someone I met at the craft fair. No one. Really.”
Sam continued to grin at him. “If you say so. If I didn’t need to take the munchkin and Jam-on-Toast back home, you know I’d never take that pathetic excuse for an answer.”
“You know, I pity Chelsea when she gets older.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re too damned nosey.”
She laughed as she crawled into the driver’s side of the pickup. Lucas held open the door for her. “Thanks, Bro.”
“Anytime, Sis.” He closed the door and waved as he walked away.
As long as he had Chelsea and then Sam occupying him, Lucas hadn’t needed to think. Now that he was alone, it was all he could do. Turning off his own nagging thoughts had never been his strong suit. Brad had always told him that he thought too much.
Brad. Jesus, he didn’t want to think about Brad. Not now. Not ever.
Lucas knew he had no business flirting with the woman. Woman, hell, she looked like she was barely out of her teens. And he felt ancient in comparison. It wasn’t the actual twenty-six years on this earth that had aged him. It was the life he had tried to pack into those years.
Lucas found himself heading back for the grandstand and wondered what he hoped to accomplish by spending more time with Joy. A relationship wasn’t even a remote possibility. He would never do that to her. Especially someone as kind as her. Those big, brown eyes of hers were beautiful but poisonous, and Lucas realized that he was already infected by them. He’d have to fight this attraction. He wouldn’t give in to those eyes.
At least that was what he assured himself as he made his way back to the grandstand.
He made a quick stop at the track photographer’s office, hoping the picture had finished printing.
* * * *
Joy was so absorbed in her work that Lucas knew she didn’t notice him standing next to her with his hands behind his back.
He smiled while he watched her. Her lips were a thin line again as she rotated the sketch of Chelsea’s smiling face to add a touch of shadow and blend it into the paper with her fingertip. She was barefoot again. When Lucas saw the small black smudges on her nose, he laughed aloud. Joy looked up at him and smiled.
Damn. Those eyes were really going to be a problem.
“You’re back!”
Lucas nodded and grinned like some goofy teenager before he caught himself.
“What are you hiding?” Joy asked, finally noticing his posture.
Whipping the winner’s circle picture out, Lucas presented it to her.
Joy glanced at the photo and smiled. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to—”
“Sure I did,” he interrupted. “You have to buy a picture if you invite someone in the winner’s circle. It’s an unwritten rule.”
“I should pay you back.”
Lucas frowned. “No, you shouldn’t.” Some irresistible impulse made him reach over and gently rub the charcoal smudges from her nose with his thumb. She just stared up at him and smiled.
Oh, yeah. Those dark eyes were most definitely going to be a problem.
Lucas shook his head to regain his senses. “When can I pick the painting up?”
“I’ll just bring it next time I go to—” She stopped talking abruptly and her cheeks flushed. “You can pick it up at my restaurant.”
“You own a restaurant?”
“My family does. I work there. It’s called Gypsy. Do you know it?”
Lucas shook his head. Being gone for those four years left him a little confused at the change in demographics for the small town.
“Do you know where the courthouse is?” He nodded, so she continued. “We’re two blocks north on Franklin Street.”
“I’ll find it. Did you say you’d need a couple of days? Samantha’s birthday is Saturday.”
“I can have it done Friday.” She packed up her sketches, supplies, and picture into her big canvas bag. “I need to find my brother. We should probably be going,” Joy said with a note of regret in her voice.
“Your brother?” Lucas saw the man he’d felt the pinch of jealousy toward coming their direction. The guy had Joy’s coloring and eyes, and Lucas felt a wave of relief. “I think that’s him now.”
The man eyed Lucas warily when they came face to face. Lucas had not a clue as to why Joy’s brother would display such obvious dislike when they hadn’t even met.
“Lucas, this is my brother, Janos Kovacs. Janos, this is Lucas...um...”
Lucas extended his hand to Janos. “Mitchell. Lucas Mitchell.”
Janos’s gaze softened as his lips formed a lopsided smile that showed a dimple on his right cheek. Just like Joy.
“Is that anything like ‘Bond, James Bond?’” Janos asked.
Lucas smiled in return, feeling his apprehension ease. “Want to pronounce that name for me again? ’Cause I don’t think I caught it the first time. Yawn...something.”
“Janos. Two syllables,” Joy replied. “Yawn—oosh.”
Lucas dutifully repeated the name.
“Jozsa, are you ready to go?” Janos asked as he turned back to his sister.
She slung her red bag over her shoulder. “Yeah. I’m ready. It was nice to meet you, Lucas Mitchell. Thanks so much for the picture. What time will you be by Friday?”
“Is four good?” Lucas asked. “I have to work Friday night. I could stop by to see you first.”
Janos’s eyes shifted several times between Lucas and Joy, and he didn’t appear to be pleased with the conversation. But he remained silent.
“Where do you work?” Joy asked.
“Here,” Lucas answered. “I paddock horses.”
“Paddock? What’s paddock?” Janos asked.
Lucas pointed at the large building further down the track. “That’s the paddock. I pick up pocket money taking care of some of Brian’s horses before and after they race. Horsemen call it ‘paddocking.’”
Janos didn’t seem content with the completeness of the answer. “Who’s Brian?”
“His brother,” Joy replied. “He drives horses.” She pulled the picture out of her art bag and showed it to Janos.
“He trains, too. I help him with that when he needs an extra pair of hands,” Lucas added, wondering why he felt the need to reassure them that he wasn’t a deadbeat. “I’ll see you Friday around four, Joy.” Tired and more than little confused at his own strange behavior all evening, he turned and marched away.
Joy stared at his retreat before her brother interrupted her thoughts. “Aren’t you going to say, ‘Goodbye, Szivem?’”
She swatted him on the arm before they walked together toward the parking lot.
“Doesn’t the asphalt burn your feet?” Janos asked with a chuckle.
Joy realized she had forgotten her sandals.
Again.
Chapter 3
The men took Joy by surprise.
When she cautiously made her way to her usual nest in the tall summer grass, she hadn’t expected to see so much activity. Men in black pants and plain shirts crawled in and around the enormous wooden frame that was rapidly becoming a barn. Most of them wore black hats and many sported beards, but none had mustaches to match. Each had a short, white apron that held hammers and awls wrapped around his hips. The men moved so quickly and covered the structure so completely that they almost looked like locusts descending on a field of crops. She had heard about the skill the Amish had in building, and Joy realized the information was true.
Fascin
ating. And so very graceful. At least a dozen men of all ages put the building up as easily as children constructed houses out of Lincoln Logs. She was so enchanted by the scene that she plopped down in the grass and immediately tried to commit the entire scene to paper. The men hypnotized her with their labors, their movements choreographed like an intricate ballet. Her hand moved furiously across her sketchbook.
The afternoon was sultry, and Joy kicked off her sandals and rolled up the sleeves of her cotton blouse. She hiked up her loose skirt and stretched her legs out to absorb the sunshine on her skin as she worked. A smile crossed her face as she remembered her grandmother and how she would scold her whenever Joy had bared her legs in public. Doing so violated Romungro custom. Only long skirts and covered legs made her nagymama happy.
The sketches came so swiftly, Joy’s hand couldn’t keep up with her mind and heart. If she didn’t find a good and steady rhythm, the work would suffer from her lack of focus. Reluctantly putting down the sketchbook, Joy fished through her bag for her pink iPod. When she turned it on, she smiled, pleasantly surprised that she’d actually had the forethought to charge the miraculous little jukebox. She pushed the earbuds into her ears and began to listen to her own mix of rock and folk music.
Joy found her tempo and lost herself in her art.
Time passed so quickly, she became oblivious to anything except the barn that was literally taking shape right before her eyes. The men climbed all around the wooden frame with no apparent effort on their part. The roof magically appeared as the exterior walls began to block her view of the construction activity. Joy rose to her knees to capture one last look before the final panel of wood went into place forever sealing the skeleton of the building.
With a heavy sigh, Joy let herself sink back down. As she sat back in a collapsed kneel, she felt something brush across the soles of her feet. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the snake that was slithering across her bare feet. She squealed. Tearing the iPod from her, she threw it at the small brown reptile and scrambled to stand. “Go away! Menj el!”