She was wrong. She could taste it, the rich sweetness melting on her tongue, despite the fact Teague sat across from her. She consumed the whole thing long before Desi Lyn finished her ice cream.
“More coffee, Mrs. Calvin? Ryleigh?” Teague asked after he finished the last of his ice cream and checked on Desi Lyn’s progress with hers.
“I’ll never sleep if I have another cup of coffee.” Mrs. Calvin placed her napkin on the table and moved the coffee cup away.
“I couldn’t eat another bite.” Ryleigh leaned back in her chair, stomach full, contentment easing through her. It was a lovely dinner, made more so by the company. Not only was Desi Lyn absolutely adorable and Mrs. Calvin delightful, there was Teague MacDermott, an enigma if there ever was one.
Nine days ago, she’d barged into his office in her usual forceful manner and asked him to relive the most horrific moment in his life, but he didn’t seem to hold it against her. He knew she was talking to his friends and neighbors but hadn’t made a move to stop her. In fact, he seemed to have gone out of his way to be kind.
He smiled at her, and she held her breath for a beat or two. A woman could get lost in that engaging, crooked grin which brought attention to the small scar on his chin. That mark intrigued her, and she wanted more than anything to touch it, learn how and when he’d come by it.
“Me, either,” Desi Lyn piped in as she licked the spoon clean of any remaining ice cream, effectively startling Ryleigh out of thoughts.
“Well then, we’ll walk you back to the hotel.” Teague directed his comment to her, rose from his seat, and pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his trousers at the same time she started rummaging in the reticule on the table beside her. He stopped in the middle of removing several crisp bills and sent her a curious glance. “What are you doing?”
She pulled her hand out of the satin bag with a guilty start, precisely folded currency between her fingers. “I’d like to pay for dinner.” A flush rose to her cheeks. “Seeing as how I invited myself along.”
“Nonsense, we invited you.” He laid the bills on the table, then grabbed his hat from the spindle of the chair and fitted it to his head, all the while giving her that smile she found utterly fascinating. “And I’ll hear nothing more about it.” He came around to her side of the table and placed his hand over hers. The heat of his casual touch rushed through her veins, warming her from the inside out. “Put it away, Ryleigh.”
There was no arguing with the expression on his face or the resolve in his smoky-gray eyes, and she did as she was asked, slipping the money back inside her reticule even as he pulled out her chair.
“Good night, Mrs. Dunleavy.” Teague waved to the woman as he held the door open.
The dog shot to his feet as soon as they left the restaurant, his nose immediately drawn to the paper-wrapped bone Teague carried. “Uh-uh, Shotgun, not until we get home.” The mutt responded with a short yap, as if he understood but didn’t like the answer, then fell into step behind them as they headed down the sidewalk, Mrs. Calvin and Desi Lyn ahead of them, the girl’s hand firmly clasped in the older woman’s.
Ryleigh slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” He slowed his pace, allowing Mrs. Calvin and Desi Lyn to move ahead. “I’d like to apologize.”
“For what?”
“For asking you such a deeply personal question. It’s no one’s business why you aren’t married, least of all mine.” He chuckled then, the tone revealing his embarrassment. “I seem to have lost all sense of courtesy in your presence, Miss Ryleigh Steele. Now, why is that?”
Ryleigh laughed in response to his admission. “I don’t know why, Sheriff.” She looked at him, saw the glow of curiosity on his face. “But there’s no need to apologize. I’m not embarrassed.” She didn’t mention the biggest reason she hadn’t married, which was that she hadn’t found anyone to love her despite her flaws and her desire to have a career. “You can ask me anything.”
He patted her hand, the one that was in the crook of his elbow. “Tell me about Vassar. Is it a good school? For Desi, I mean.”
“It’s a wonderful school. I so enjoyed my time there, and I think she would, too.” She looked ahead to the little girl engaged in conversation with Mrs. Calvin. “She’s very smart. She’d do well, I have no doubt.”
They gained the steps of the hotel all too soon. “Good night.” For a moment, she thought he might kiss her again, but he simply gave her a slight nod, touched the brim of his hat, and turned away.
“Good night, Miss Ryleigh!”
She waved to Desi Lyn, then just stood at the entrance to the hotel lobby and watched them walk away, a question reverberating in her head. Who is Teague MacDermott? Hero, certainly. Loving uncle. Faithful friend and wonderful man, but what else? She was getting to know him from the people she talked to, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted to know so much more . . . from the man himself.
Chapter Six
The Reverend Josiah Miller stuck out his hand and grasped Teague’s in a warm shake after Sunday service. “Will you and Desi Lyn be by for dinner? Elizabeth picked up beef ribs at the butcher shop yesterday. They’ve been smoking since early this morning. Can you smell them?”
The Reverend grinned, obviously proud of the brick barbecue he’d built in the yard when he first moved to Paradise Falls. It was the only one of its kind in town and cooked the meat through indirect heat, the results of which melted in one’s mouth. “She also made chocolate cake for dessert.”
Teague smiled and let out a sigh. As much as he loved peaches, he was glad that Elizabeth would not be serving them in some form today. It would give him a chance to try to get Ryleigh out of his mind, if only for a few hours, though that was easier said than done. “Of course. The usual time?”
At Josiah’s nod, Teague confirmed, “We’ll be there. Do you need me to bring anything?”
“Just yourselves. And Mrs. Calvin, if she doesn’t have plans.”
“I’ll see you then.” Teague returned the huge grin on his friend’s face as he walked down the steps. He turned toward the schoolyard beside the church and spotted Desi Lyn already on one of the swings, while Shotgun rested in the shade of the tree, his head moving back and forth as he watched her. “Desi Lyn, we have to go.”
“Okay, Uncle T.” She jumped off the swing when it was at its highest. His heart lurched in his chest, and his muscles tensed, ready to run to her, but she landed on her feet with a huge grin, none the worse for wear. “Come on, Shotgun,” she called over her shoulder. The dog rose from his place in the shade and followed behind her, his nose pushing into her hand, his tail wagging.
At exactly four o’clock that afternoon, Teague stepped up on the porch of the Millers’ big house beside the church, Desi Lyn beside him, her hand in his. Shotgun lagged behind, sniffing at the flowers along the walkway. Occasionally, he’d raise his head and sniff the air, no doubt smelling the smoking meat on Josiah’s barbecue.
Teague glanced at his niece and smirked. After church, she had taken care to change from her favorite dress to a pair of trousers and an old shirt and now played with a loose button. Dinner at the reverend’s house more often than not included several hours of play with the Millers’ four boys. There would dirt. Lots and lots of dirt. And running and shouting, but best of all, there would be laughter. Desi Lyn would sleep well tonight. She always did after an afternoon with the Miller children. She looked up at him and returned his grin.
He pulled the door buzzer.
Through the open windows, he heard Elizabeth call out, “Davey, would you get that?”
A moment later, the front door was opened by David Miller. Six years old and full of mischief, he was the youngest of the Miller boys. He grinned as his light brown eyes lit on Desi Lyn. Like her, he’d recently lost a tooth, and his smile appeared a little crooked. He didn’t say hello. Instead, he grinned wider, then reached out, tapped Desi Lyn on the shoulder, shouted, “Tag!
You’re it!” and took off running.
“Hey, not fair!” Desi Lyn yelled back and gave chase. Not to be left out, Shotgun followed, his nails scrambling over hardwood floor, leaving Teague standing on the porch by himself. A moment later, he heard Elizabeth admonish from the kitchen, “No running in the house!” followed by giggles, stomping footsteps, barking, and a door slamming. “And stay out of the garden!”
Teague’s heart lightened. He loved Sundays at the Miller house. It was lively and happy, reminding him of when he was younger. He wiped his feet on the mat and let himself into the house, closing the door behind him. He walked down the hallway, noticing right away that the door to Josiah’s study was closed. As he passed by, he heard the distinct sound of a woman in tears.
“Oh, Teague, I’m so glad you’re here,” Elizabeth greeted him as he entered the kitchen where she rolled out dough for her wonderful biscuits. He assumed this was her second batch, as he could already smell the first one baking. The aroma filled the kitchen.
She used the back of her wrist to wipe perspiration from her face, smearing flour over her forehead in the process. “I’m afraid dinner won’t be for a little bit yet. Ellie wouldn’t go down for her nap, and Josiah’s been locked in his study since services ended.”
She said nothing more, but she didn’t have to. He understood. As part of his role as minister to the good souls of Paradise Falls, Josiah counseled those who needed it. Teague, himself, had sought Josiah’s advice on many occasions. The man had a loving heart and listened without judgment, offering comfort and solace, and some very sound practical solutions. Sometimes, he never even said a word, allowing the person to figure the problem out on their own. He was good at that.
“What can I do to help?”
“Nate and Celia are already here, and I’ve got him watching over the ribs on the barbecue. Celia’s setting the tables.” She glanced up at the clock and grinned. “Roy and Bethany should be here any minute. I invited Krissa and Oscar, too, and—” She was interrupted by a shriek of outrage from the backyard and a long sigh left her. “Would you mind seeing what that’s all about? Sounds like Charley.” She referred to her seven-year-old son and nodded toward the back door with an expression of exasperation.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Teague put on his best sheriff face and stepped outside, prepared to settle the dispute that had riled Charley only to stop short at the sight that greeted him. Celia was, indeed, setting the tables—one for the adults and one for the children—under the ramada shaded by grape vines in full leaf. Nate stood by the brick barbecue and brushed Elizabeth’s savory brown-sugar glaze on the ribs, but it was Ryleigh, sitting in a rocking chair on the porch that caught and held his attention.
She didn’t see him. Instead, she gazed down at eight-month-old Ellie in her arms as she rocked slowly back and forth. Even in profile, he could see the beautiful smile on her lips as she sang the sweetest lullaby, her voice soft and soothing. Ellie’s eyes fluttered closed, her long thick lashes dark smudges on her pink cheeks, and let out a sigh.
Ryleigh let out a small chuckle, then finally looked up, her gaze meeting his.
His heart skipped a beat and warmth sped through his veins. He swallowed hard and tried to look away, but he couldn’t. Something about her was different today, something he couldn’t put his finger on.
He’d never paid much attention to what women wore, or how they styled their hair, but with her, he noticed . . . probably far more than he should have. She’d left her raven tresses loose today, simply parted on the side, and tucked back behind her ears to expose the small amethyst and gold earrings in her delicate lobes. She wore a dress of ivory dotted with flowers and a row of tiny buttons that matched the color of her earrings. The satin purple ribbons on her dress made the color of her eyes turn to a violet so pure, the pansies on the table beside her from the Millers’ garden dimmed by comparison. He wanted to run his fingers through those ebony curls while he gazed into her sparkling eyes.
The kiss they’d shared on the steps of the Prentice Hotel filled his mind. Her eyes had sparkled then, too, glowing with uncertainty and wonder. Krissa and Oscar both had teased him mercilessly the next time he stopped in for coffee, as they had witnessed the kiss. They even mentioned how she had stopped on the landing and just stood there for the longest time, her hand over her heart, as if in a daze.
Teague let out a sigh. As he’d feared, he’d become the fodder for gossip, and everyone he ran into greeted him with knowing smiles and curious glances, which he did his best to ignore.
The longer her gaze held his, the more he realized that noticing what she wore had nothing to do with the clothing at all. It was her. There was joyfulness about her, all the time. He could feel it when he was near her, see it on her face, hear it in her voice. Especially right now. Ryleigh Steele, hardened news reporter, was in the deep throes of love for the baby in her arms if her expression was any indication. Something in the region of his heart shifted.
He shook his head, trying to dismiss the sudden warmth―and longing―that spread through him.
“Shhh, she’s finally asleep.”
He gave a slight nod and tiptoed a little closer, bending down to smooth his finger along the baby’s cheek. Her skin was soft and warm, and her mouth moved as if she suckled. He pulled his gaze away from Ellie and focused on Ryleigh. The inclination to kiss her hello held him enthralled, and it was on the tip of his tongue to say how lovely she looked, but he couldn’t do it. Somehow, the words stuck in his throat.
She sucked in her breath, as if knowing what he’d been thinking, and her eyes opened wide.
Good Lord, a man could drown in those eyes. And he was drowning, falling deeper and deeper into those violet blue depths.
A shout from one of the children freed him from his temporary enchantment, but it still took quite a bit of effort to pull his gaze away from Ryleigh. Her cheeks flushed as he rose to his full height and focused on the children engaged in a spirited game of tag. His gaze went to Charley. No longer indignant or outraged, the boy was now laughing as he ran after his older brother, Ben, and slapped him on the back. The words “Tag! You’re it,” floated in the air, followed by a shout of disappointment. Desi Lyn came into his line of sight, and he smiled. Already, her face was red and sweaty, and dirt covered the knees of her trousers, but there was a huge grin on her face as she dodged a tag by Ben and raced to the other side of the yard. Not to be left out, Shotgun followed her, his barks adding to the general racket.
The door opened behind him, drawing his attention, and he turned to greet the rest of the dinner guests.
There were hellos all around as well as introductions for Ryleigh, a few hugs, and some kisses on the cheek before Josiah pushed his way through the group of people crowding around the back door. “Hot stuff coming through,” he warned as he carried a Dutch oven brimming with Elizabeth’s baked beans, potholders on his hands to protect them from the heat. Elizabeth brought up the rear with a basket of golden biscuits wrapped in a checkered napkin. “Teague, would you put Ellie in her bassinet?”
“Of course.” Teague moved closer to Ryleigh as soon as everyone brought their dishes to the table and took the baby from her arms, placing her in the bassinet as requested, but not before giving the little one a kiss on her forehead. Ellie gave another sigh but didn’t wake. He turned and faced Ryleigh, his face flushing when he caught her amused gaze on him. “What?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. Just a small glimpse into Teague MacDermott, that’s all.”
He laughed, feeling the heat rush up his face once more. “If you tell anyone what you saw, I’ll deny it.”
Again, she shook her head, those eyes of hers glistening, her smile soft. “Your secret is safe with me, Sheriff.”
He grinned, then extended his hand and helped Ryleigh to her feet.
“How did you know?” she asked as she rolled her shoulders and stretched out her back.
“That you couldn’t get up?” He
shrugged. “I’ve held Ellie when she’s fighting sleep. I figured you’d been sitting in that position for quite some time.”
“Dinner’s ready!” Elizabeth called over her shoulder as she breezed into the house once more. “Kids, get washed up.”
Almost as one, the children came from their respective places in the yard and rushed to the water pump at the edge of the garden, jostling each other as they hurried to wash hands and faces.
The back door slammed one last time as Elizabeth came back out of the house with a pitcher of lemonade in one hand and milk in the other. Teague escorted Ryleigh to the table, then made plates for Desi Lyn, David, and Charley, leaving the eldest Miller boys to get their own before seating them at the children’s table.
He turned toward the table for adults and sighed. Every seat was taken, except for one. For the third time in as many days, he found himself sitting across from Ryleigh. And he really couldn’t say he minded that much, although he was a little exasperated with his friends, including Mrs. Calvin. More and more, it seemed to him they had decided to play matchmaker. Or was it only his imagination that every time he turned around, there she was with the people he’d grown up with, those he considered to be family more than friends.
He shook his head in another failed attempt to corral his straying thoughts and turned his attention to the conversation around the table. In between bites of food, they talked about who was getting married, who was having a baby, and who had fallen on hard times. Teague mentally made note of the names of those who could use some help. He’d see they got it.
He was by no means wealthy, but he didn’t have to worry. He had enough to retire someday, enough to raise Desi Lyn in comfort and send her to college if she so chose. There was no mortgage on the house in town or on Whispering Pines. Mam had taught him and his brothers how to save and be frugal. She’d also taught them how to invest wisely. Working hard, he learned from his father, but both parents taught him to be charitable, not only in word, but in deed as well.
A Kiss in the Sunlight Page 8