by Jane Toombs
She inclined her head toward where Tim, Yasmin and Danny were hitting croquet balls through the hoops with more enthusiasm than accuracy. “I think not.”
Listening to Tim’s laughter, he couldn’t argue.
Jade showed him the barn and stable first, where he admired the Arabian mare and her handsome two-year-old colt. “Zed’s thinking of raising Arabians once Talal can come and go freely in Kholi again so he can choose a couple more choice broodmares for us,” she told him.
“Talal’s not welcome in Kholi? I gathered he’s a prince of some kind.”
“He is—it’s a political matter. The king’s his great-uncle and fond of him, so I imagine it won’t be too much longer.”
If Zed was his brother and Jade his sister, didn’t that make them related to the Kholi king, as well? “Should I address you as Princess?” he asked.
“No!”
“Only Talal has rank, is that it?”
She grimaced. “Actually we do belong to the royal family, the Zohirs, but Zed and I prefer to remain Adamses. Linnea, now, you can call Princess, since she’s married to Talal.” She grinned at him. “I wouldn’t try it, though.”
She bent to pet the calico cat twining around her ankles. As she rose, she said, “You’ve seen the corral, so we’ll go around to the pond next.”
By the time they reached the gazebo, dusk was settling in. He’d finally gotten used to the fact that the Sierras to the west hid the sun as it went down, making sunset fall earlier than in Chicago. The reward was “alpine glow,” a wonderful pink-red that remained in the sky over the mountains until the stars appeared.
Tonight the rising moon was close to full, warm and yellow. As they stood gazing at it, Jade said, “My brothers are amateur astronomers. If you want to use one of their telescopes...”
“Not until I brush up on what’s where,” Nathan said. “I like to know what I’m looking at.”
As he spoke, his gaze shifted from the sky to her, looking directly into her eyes. He found he couldn’t look away. When he noticed her throat quiver as she swallowed, he knew she must be trapped in the same strange paralysis.
There was no denying she was a beautiful woman. Not pretty—her features were too strong—but beautiful was the right word. In a moment he’d break the grip of what held him motionless; he’d turn away and say something about the barbecue, anything. Just for another moment, though, he satisfied his need to look at her.
What was he looking at, he who always needed to know? A selfish, manipulative woman? A vulnerable woman who was all heart? Both? Neither? How could he tell?
Jade. He was looking at Jade and she was gazing back at him with the same bemusement he felt. Maybe it was a trick of the moonlight, but he saw something in her eyes that drew him to her. Without willing it, scarcely realizing he’d moved, he reached for her, pulled her unresisting into his arms and bent his head until his lips found hers.
Jade welcomed the touch of his lips, only half-aware of her surroundings. Something strange had happened when Nathan looked into her eyes. A feeling of need gripped her, so acute she ached with wanting. Answering his kiss, she slipped her arms around his neck, holding him to her, realizing she fit against him perfectly.
Their kiss blotted out the moon, the night, everything except Nathan. She wished it to last forever, wished she’d never surface or ever have to think again, just feel whatever this was, something she couldn’t find words for because it hadn’t ever happened to her before.
Chapter Four
Voices intruded into the spell cast by the moonlight—surely it must be the moonlight—bringing Jade back to the reality of where she was and what she was doing. They were at her brother’s ranch, she and Nathan, kissing with wild abandon.
Out of the spell or not, it still took effort to move, to extricate herself from his arms and step back, her heart thudding like a bongo drum. Of all the illadvised actions she’d ever rushed into, this was the prize-winner. She wasn’t quite certain how it had happened, but she knew damn well it shouldn’t have.
The voices she’d heard she now recognized as Linnea’s and Talal’s. They were welcome to the moon and the gazebo and the romantic ambience—she’d had more than enough. They weren’t visible—the gazebo blocked her vision—but they were headed this way.
She ran her fingers through her shoulder-length hair, wishing she could put her inner self to order as easily. Nathan, standing only a foot or two away, hadn’t said a word. She opened her mouth to speak and shut it quickly when Talal’s words came clearly to her ears.
“Walk all over him? That doctor’s no doormat. All I can say is my muddleheaded sister would make a poor judge of camels.”
Unhappily realizing Nathan must be hearing the same words, Jade cleared her throat and, before her brother could unwittingly embarrass her further, called, “Talal? We’re over here.”
All she could hope for was that Talal’s mention of camels might have confused Nathan at least a smidgen. But she doubted it had.
She watched Talal and Linnea amble toward them around the gazebo, trying to come up with something innocuous to say. Talal saved her the trouble.
“Admiring the night sky?” he asked Nathan. He put an arm around Linnea, smiling down at her. “As my favorite astronomer, Omar Khayyám. said, ‘Yon rising moon looks for us again.’ So we heeded her siren call.”
“We’re on our way back to the house,” Jade put in hastily, “leaving you to commune with the stars and the moon in privacy.” Without looking at Nathan, she marched off.
Naturally Linnea had told her husband what Jade had said about Nathan—wives did that sort of thing. She couldn’t blame Linnea. Or Talal, who hadn’t known Nathan was within earshot. No, it was her own fault for not keeping her mouth shut. When would she learn?
Even worse was the way she’d lost it when Nathan kissed her, behaving like a moonstruck teenager. Maybe it was just as well he’d overheard Talal. Quite possibly he’d be annoyed enough with her to forget they’d ever met.
After all, he wouldn’t need to see Tim again, would he? The boy was the only real connection between her and Nathan. He hadn’t said a word since the kiss or since hearing Talal, not one. What was he thinking?
Other guys she’d known would have confronted her about the doormat issue by now. He could be waiting until later so as not to involve any of her relatives in the discussion. He surely wouldn’t let it drop without some comment. Unless he really was what she’d accused him of being.
Jade sighed. Doormat or not, that damn kiss was going to take some concentrated forgetting.
Nathan followed Jade toward the house with conflicting emotions. He sure as hell hadn’t meant to kiss her. Nor had he expected that one unintended kiss to be potent enough to knock his socks off. Big mistake. Blame it on the romance of moonlight and it still wasn’t easy to dismiss.
Talal’s overheard remark was even harder to deal with. So Jade thought he was a doormat, did she? Damn the woman. He gritted his teeth, reminded that his ex-wife had probably considered him as tame as her poodle until he’d shocked the hell out of her by filing for divorce. Why had he allowed himself to get even minimally involved with another woman like her?
One side of his mouth lifted in a bitter smile as he recalled what Talal had said about Jade’s inability to judge camels. This was one misjudged camel, who wasn’t about to be led into any female’s paddock again.
He figured she expected a confrontation. He’d learned a long time ago that most of those were like misfiring rockets, full of sound and fury, then fizzling out and going nowhere. Occasionally one escalated into a full-fledged physical fight, which might be okay if he confronted a man. He’d never hit a woman in his life and he didn’t mean to start now.
He’d liked her brothers and her in-laws—all up-front except Steve, whose job kept him on the secretive side. Too bad Jade wasn’t more like her family. If she’d called him a wimp to his face, that would have been up-front. He’d have been mad as hell, but he could have accept
ed it more easily than this badmouthing him behind his back.
He was damned if he’d get into any set-to with her. Ignoring the entire scene was sure to frustrate her more than him. Nathan nodded. That’s how he’d play it.
Tim came running toward him, croquet mallet still in hand, with Danny in close pursuit. “Yasmin says I won!” Tim cried in triumph.
They both came to a halt beside Nathan. “Yeah, but that’s ’cause it’s polite to let guests win,” Danny announced. “My mom says so.”
Yasmin, trailing them, arrived. “You just don’t like to lose,” she informed Danny.
Nathan found a smile for her. “All us men hate to lose,” he said. Shifting his gaze to the boys, he added, “We have to learn any one guy can’t win all the time.”
Jade backtracked to come even with them. “Good for you,” she told Tim, extracting the mallet from his grasp. She lifted the hat from Danny’s head and tousled his hair. “I’m proud of you for trying to be a good loser. That’s a real hard thing to learn.”
Danny seemed surprised he’d tried to be a good loser, as well he might be, but at the same time it was obvious her words had mollified him.
“Now that the game’s over, let’s put the croquet gear away,” Jade went on. “Tim and I have to leave pretty soon.”
“Can he come back tomorrow?” Danny asked.
“If not, sometime next week for sure,” she said.
“I like Tim,” Yasmin confided. “He flew on a big airplane from a long way off just like me.”
Nathan glanced at Jade and saw the same speculative gleam in her eye that he knew must be in his. Where Tim was concerned they were still on the same wavelength.
“Tim didn’t come from Kholi like you, though,” Jade said to Yasmin.
Yasmin pursed her mouth. “I know that. He told me it wasn’t Kholi.”
“Did he tell you the name of where it was?”
Yasmin slanted a glance at Tim and then shrugged. “Just another place.”
Nathan wasn’t sure whether she was siding with Tim the way kids do or she actually didn’t know. One thing was certain—Yasmin wasn’t going to reveal any more right now.
The conversation had defused some of the tension between him and Jade. He turned to her and said, “Thanks for inviting me. Your brother has a great spread here. Excuse me while I go and tell him so before I leave.” He hunkered down to Tim’s level. “I have to go home now, cowboy.”
“If I come and see you at the clinic, can we have hot dogs again?” Tim asked.
“We’ll see.” Nathan had always hated that waffling phrase, but he couldn’t promise the boy anything. Tim lived with Jade and he wasn’t likely to see her again.
“Maybe when you take another picture of my ankle,” Tim persisted.
“Hey, I’d almost forgotten I need one last X ray to make sure it’s healed.” Nathan’s words surprised him. Though it was true he should take one final film in case he was ever sued for malpractice, he hadn’t really planned to because it was obvious the boy’s ankle was all but healed.
“Just let me know when.” Jade’s words were clipped.
His nod was as chilly as her voice. He held out his hand to Tim. “A shake to say goodbye, okay?”
Tim took Nathan’s hand, shaking it with enthusiasm.
“Me, too,” Danny said, offering his hand. “And Yasmin.”
Nathan obliged and was turning away when Danny added, “You forgot Tee.”
“Tee?”
“Auntie Jade. When I was a baby like Erin, I called her Tee, and now Yasmin and Erin do, too. You can call her that if you want.”
“Thanks,” Nathan said wryly, “but since she’s not my auntie, I’ll pass.” He had half a mind to forgo the handshake, as well, but he didn’t want to upset the kids.
He held out his hand and after a brief hesitation Jade took it. Thinking he might as well go whole hog, he gave her hand a firm squeeze and got one right back in return. Mentally cursing the electric jolt the contact gave him, he dropped her hand and strode away.
Jade watched him go and was in the act of raising the hand he’d shaken to her breasts when she realized what she was doing. Giving a huff of annoyance, she turned to the kids and said, “On the count of three, it’ll be time to collect the mallets and balls. One. Two. Three.”
Walking slowly after the running children, she muttered, “Okay, so there’s mucho chemistry. Forget it. Just forget it. Unless you’re looking for a major disaster.”
From Tim’s point of view, the barbecue had been a huge success. During the next few days he talked continually about Danny and Yasmin. He wore the cowboy hat continually, too, hanging it on one of the bed’s four posters before he went to sleep. But Jade couldn’t get one word out of him about his past.
“Danny and Yasmin go to school,” he told her on Wednesday morning. “Maybe I could go with them.”
She thought it probably was a good idea. June was nearly here, far too late to enter him in a regular kindergarten, but perhaps the private year-round preschool they attended could fit him in on their same three-half-days-a-week schedule. She called Karen about it.
“I know they have openings,” Karen told her. “But what about Tim’s immunization shots? Has he had them?”
“I haven’t a clue,” Jade admitted. “I could ask him.”
“Don’t bother. Unless you have a written shot record from a doctor, forget school. Of course, you could always ask Nathan to start Tim’s shots. The school might take him if they knew he was in the process of being immunized.”
“Thanks.” Jade put the phone down and stared at it. So much for never seeing Nathan again. There were other doctors, but she didn’t think it would be good for Tim to go to one he didn’t know.
“About school,” she said to him. “Danny’s mother told me you can’t go unless you get your immunization shots like Danny and Yasmin did. Do you remember ever having a doctor give you shots?”
Tim stared at her, finally shaking his head. “Does it hurt?” he asked.
“You can ask Danny and Yasmin about their shots when we go to the ranch tomorrow,” she said.
When he saw Danny the next day, the first thing out of Tim’s mouth was, “When you got those shots for school, did they hurt?”
“Naw,” Danny said. “They’re nothing.”
“It’s like you got stuck with a pin,” Yasmin put in. “I was scared the first time, but I didn’t cry. Erin did, but she’s a baby.”
Tim looked at Jade. “Okay,” he muttered, then ran off with the other two to play.
Jade joined Karen and Linnea on the back patio, where they discussed the house Talal was having built not far away, in the pines near Genoa.
“Zed finally convinced him our place should fit into the surroundings,” Linnea said. “So the latest plans feature a log cabin.”
“Not just any old Abe Lincoln log cabin, I’ll bet,” Jade said.
“Naturally not,” Karen said with a grin. “You know our Talal. By the way, I called the school and explained Tim’s situation. They said if he got started on the immunizations, they’d consider taking him.”
“Hand me the phone,” Jade said resignedly. She punched in Nathan’s clinic number, annoyed with herself because she’d already committed it to memory.
Betty put her through to Nathan and she explained Tim’s problem as briefly as she could.
“He ought to be immunized, anyway,” Nathan told her. “Bring him in on Saturday around noon.”
On Saturday morning, when Jade caught herself changing her outfit for the second time, she made a face at her mirror image and deliberately donned old jeans and a nondescript T-shirt. She was not trying to impress Nathan.
Going to look for Tim, she found him in the laundry room where Hot Shot’s food dish was kept. At his feet, Hot Shot was scarfing down his favorite catfish with sauce while Tim murmured to Freddie the Frog, propped on the washer. He spoke words unfamiliar to her in the same singsong pattern she’d heard h
im use before. Chinese? Japanese? Korean? Vietnamese? She hadn’t a clue.
“Telling Freddie where we’re going?” she asked, aware he hadn’t heard her come in.
Tim started, instantly falling silent.
“Whatever language you were using,” she added, “I’m sure Freddie understood perfectly. You can tell by his eyes he’s an intelligent frog.”
Tim shot her a wary look.
“He probably even knows when you feel good and when you feel bad,” she added.
Tim took a deep breath and let it out. “Maybe Laura didn’t want to give him to Doc. Maybe she’ll ask for him back.”
“Why do you keep worrying about Laura? We don’t even know her.”
“Freddie did.”
Jade couldn’t find an answer to that one.
They reached the clinic exactly at noon. Once again Betty shunted them upstairs while Nathan finished seeing the patients still in the waiting room. Tim carried the frog with him, set it on the couch and began wandering around the room much as Jade had done the first time they were here.
“Doc won’t care if I look in the other rooms?” he asked.
“We can explore together,” she said.
In the bedroom, Tim stared up at the pictures on the dresser. “That lady looks sad,” he said, pointing at Laura’s picture.
Jade shrugged and led him away, not mentioning Laura’s name, hoping Tim wouldn’t connect Nathan’s sister to the picture. She didn’t understand his repeated mention of Laura.
Back in the living room, Tim discovered what was obviously a children’s book, a new one, on the coffee table. The picture on the cover showed a boy about his age dressed in a cowboy outfit.
“I think Nathan meant this book for you,” she said.
Tim ran his hands over the cover before picking it up. “What’s the boy’s name?” he asked.
She read the title aloud. “Mike the Maverick.” Anticipating the next question, she told him a maverick was a stray, then coaxed him onto the couch with her and Freddie and began to read the book aloud.
Nathan heard her finishing up a story as he opened the door: “...and so Mike knew he’d come home at last.”