by Clare Revell
“I know your type,” came the laughing reply. “Dancing all night.”
He opened the door. “You got it.”
“Come for lunch tomorrow after training. It’ll be ready about half one.”
“Sounds great. Thank you. Bye, Laurie.”
Hattie looked at him as they exited the warm house into the chilly night air. “I’m sorry. She does like to tease something chronic.”
“It’s fine.” He slid his hand into hers, unable to wait any longer to touch her somehow.
“Have you ever done that before?”
“What? Held someone’s hand? Or taken a girl out for dinner and dancing and not brought her home until the wee small hours?”
“The latter.”
He hesitated and opened the truck door. “Yeah, I have. Only usually I didn’t get them home until after breakfast the following morning.” He winked. “Don’t worry, I’m a reformed man.”
“Just as well, or Aunt Laurie really would have something to say.” She smiled and settled back into the seat. He ran around the truck and got in the other side. Starting the engine, he flipped on the lights. At least it wasn’t raining. He wanted to take her for a walk after dinner.
Hattie looked sideways at him. “I’ve never been dancing.”
“Never? And I’m sure you told me you studied ballet until you were fourteen.”
“Ballet’s different—that’s an art form. Good little Baptist girls don’t dance,” she said, sounding as if she were quoting someone.
“Then I think it’s time you went dancing,” he grinned. “Good job you’re not wearing heels. Or don’t good little Baptist girls wear those either?”
“Nope.” She grinned.
He stopped at the lights. “Boyfriends?”
“Never.” She pretended to shudder at the thought. Then she sighed. “No, I’m pretty much a wallflower.”
“I happen to love wallflowers.”
She laughed. “I told Steve I was planning on being the maiden aunt.”
“Man wasn’t made to be alone, you know,” he told her. “Whether it’s a husband, wife or just a very good friend, there is someone for everyone out there. Even you, before you say anything else.” She didn’t look convinced and he carried on. “Trust me, on that one. If not, look at it this way. In the two days you’ve been here, you’ve had two blokes ask you out.”
“That’s what Aunt Laurie said, but I don’t see them as dates.”
His heart sank. “Oh? Then what would you call this?”
“I’d call it going to dinner with a great guy I like a lot. And yesterday was sailing with a childhood friend which I had an ulterior motive for doing.” She paused. “Oh, and also getting rescued by a great guy I like a lot.”
He winked. “Just don’t tell that great guy you like that you’re going out with me then. He may be the jealous type.”
Hattie burst out laughing, rocking back and forth in the seat in obvious delight. Once she calmed down she smiled. “Thank you. I don’t remember the last time I laughed like that.”
“I aim to please.” He pulled into a parking space at the back of the restaurant. “They don’t just do fish here, but the fish is to die for. Although, thinking about it, dying for it would be a waste of a good piece of fish.” He got out of the truck and ran around to open the door for her. He took her hand, guiding her from the truck.
Her smile made him go weak at the knees and her perfume filled his senses like nothing else ever had. Why was she so different? Was God leading him towards her in a way He hadn’t before. She was definitely unlike any other woman he’d dated. He’d go as far as saying she was a lady, not a woman.
He escorted her into the restaurant and followed the waiter to the table. Pulling out the chair for Hattie he smiled at her, before he sat opposite.
“Here’s your menu.” The waiter handed them both huge cardboard folders. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Cal looked at Hattie. “What would you like?”
“Grapefruit and bitter lemon, please.”
“And I’ll have orange and lemonade, please.” He looked at her as the waiter left them. “Is that the bloke you’re having dinner with?”
She giggled. “Nope. I’ll let you know when he shows up. You can hide under the table.”
“I might have to. If he’s that jealous he might have brought a gun with him.”
“Hmmm…men in uniform,” she said a wistful expression crossing her face.
Cal hid behind his menu so she wouldn’t see the smirk on his face. “Oh, please,” he complained halfheartedly. “Not another female who likes the uniform. What about those blokes who don’t wear one?”
“Even pastors wear a uniform of sorts—a suit and tie.” She tilted her head. “But this time I did mean the waiter.” Her foot touched his ankle for an instant and he laughed.
“OK, I asked for that one.”
She grinned and studied the menu. “Mind you, I’ve seen your uniform.”
“And?”
She looked at him as if deep in thought, distracted by the reappearance of the waiter.
“Your drinks. Are you ready to order?”
“Please. I’ll have the potato skins to start with, with the cheese and chive dip. Then the…” she turned over the menu “…grilled monkfish with black olive sauce and lemon mash and baby carrots.”
Cal smiled. She’d picked things she could eat one handed. “And I’ll have the seared wild salmon, Dijon sauce, new potatoes and green beans. With the scampi to start with.” He looked at him. “I’m allergic to nuts.”
“I’ll make sure the chef knows.” The waiter took the menus and vanished.
Hattie looked at him. “Did you bring your pager?”
“I did. Along with my EpiPen. All I can say is I’m glad its Saturday and the week’s almost over. I’ve never known a week like it.”
She nodded slightly, running a finger around the rim of her glass. “How often do you fund raise?”
“We have an open day a couple of times a year and the shop’s always open, except on a Sunday.”
She nodded.
“But I don’t want to talk about work.” He gazed into her eyes, content to lose himself in them. “I’d rather talk about other things. Like you.”
“You know about me. I have a twin brother who’s determined to run my life for me. I quit my job and am currently not sure what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.”
He tilted his head. “And you’re also an amazing cook. You should come and work here.”
Her eyes lit as she smiled. “Maybe, but I prefer home cooking to high end dining. Cooking the food that is, not eating it.”
He kept the light flow of conversation going throughout the meal. She was so at ease with him, as if his past didn’t matter. Impressed his pager hadn’t gone off at all, he paid and then taking her hand led her outside. It was decidedly chilly now and he pulled his jacket collar up. “Do you fancy coming for a walk?” he asked.
“Love to.”
“Then let’s drive a little way and walk along the beach.”
****
Hattie removed her shoes and left them in the passenger seat of the truck. Sliding her hand into Cal’s she walked with him onto the sand. It was cold between her toes, but she didn’t want it any other way. Sand had to be walked on barefoot, not in shoes or sneakers or sandals. Waves crashed onto the shore to her left, the familiar sound comforting, yet at the same time frightening. She guessed that being thrown about in them changed her perspective a little. She shuddered and Cal stopped walking, turning her to face him.
“What is it?” His tone was gentle, concerned, his eyes searching hers. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I know. It’s not you.”
“Then what is it? They say a problem shared is a problem halved.”
“I’ve always loved the beach. Could sit here for hours, or walk on the sand and in the waves, but now? After yesterday, it’s just…” She broke of
f. She was going to sound like a fool and didn’t want him to think her stupid.
“Go on.” His voice encouraged her. Maybe he wouldn’t laugh.
“What if the waves drag me out there and pull me under?”
“They won’t. You’d have to go a very long way out for that to happen. Or go out in a storm. Just standing on the water’s edge is perfectly safe. Besides, I’m right here, holding you and I won’t let anything happen.” He tugged her hand. “Come on. Just as far as our ankles, no deeper. Probably not even that if it’s cold.”
She hung back, not letting go of him as he led her down to the water’s edge and stood just in reach of the waves. His face was comical as the cold water rushed over his feet and he jumped back to her side. “Cold.”
She smiled at his antics and when he took her hand again, pulling her with him, didn’t argue. The waves dashed over her feet, sending shock waves running through her.
“See,” he whispered, his arm going around her and pulling her close. “You’re quite safe.”
She nodded. “I’m just being stupid.”
“Not stupid,” he replied. “It’s normal to be a little nervous after what you went through. You need to get back out there on a boat again, just to prove to yourself that you can do it. It doesn’t have to be for very long. I’m sure Markus would oblige. He owns more than enough boats."
She looked up at the stars twinkling in the jeweled sky. The twin bridges outlined against it a little further along the coast. “I guess so. But I don’t want to talk about Markus, right now.”
He pulled her into his arms. She leaned against his chest, listening to his heart beating. His voice rumbled above her. “You don’t?”
“No. Those shutters you were hanging the other day. Did you make them?”
He grinned, confusion in his eyes for a moment. “Yes, I did.”
“Would you be able to do some for Aunt Laurie’s house? The ones she has left are so old now, that I figured we may as well replace the lot, not just the ones destroyed in the fire.”
“She didn’t mention them.”
“I know, this is my idea. I can pay for them. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Just Uncle Reg’s family crest…”
His laugh was infectious and she joined in. “That’s a good one, Hattie. Though I think a crest is a little beyond me. How about hearts and their initials intertwined?”
“That sounds good. Let me have the bill for those. I don’t want her knowing what they cost.”
“I’ll work it out and get back to you.” His finger ran down her cheek, sending rivers of warmth through her chilled body. “You’re cold.”
“A little.”
“Then let me warm you up.” His hands pressed against her back, holding her close as his lips brushed against hers and she closed her eyes, conscious thought leaving her.
Finally he pulled away leaving her breathless. He smiled, the stars forming a halo around his head. “I should get you home before Laurie comes after me with a baseball bat.”
“Does she even have one?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not going to risk it.” He kissed her lightly. “Perhaps next time we go dancing.”
Joy filled her, bubbling up from her frozen toes to the tips of her eyelashes. He wanted to take her out again. “I’d like that.”
He grinned. “So would I.”
13
Monday morning, Hattie looked at Aunt Laurie over breakfast. “Did you want me to hang around to let Cal in?”
“He rang earlier. He’s not going to be able to start today after all. You know Mrs. Edgemont on the harbor? Patricia’s grandmother?”
Hattie nodded.
“Well, her husband decided to go up into the attic yesterday and put his foot through the bedroom ceiling.”
Hattie tried not to laugh. “But Mr. Edgemont is like eighty-two. What was he doing in the loft?”
“Goodness only knows. Anyway, the short story is, Cal can’t start for the next two weeks as the entire attic is riddled with woodworm. He needs to replace all the ceiling joists then board the attic floor again.”
“Mr. Edgemont’s accident is a blessing in disguise, then. The whole thing might have come down on them during the night or something.” She pushed aside the disappointment filling her. She’d hoped on seeing him for the bulk of the day, talking to him as he worked.
“But he did say he’d drop by later to pick you up. Around seven or so. He said something about tripping fantastic lights or some such thing.”
“That sounds like fun. I need to get my head around what I’m going to do in the future. Only thing I do know is that I’m not going back to Headley Cross.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Would you mind if I stayed here a little longer. I can pay rent for the room, help out with food and so on. I could also work in the shop like I said I was going to.”
“You will not,” Aunt Laurie said firmly. “You are on holiday. Let your arm rest, go for walks, do some thinking.”
“OK. It’ll give me time to get all those curtains and cushion covers made. They’ll be ready to go straight in your new rooms then. Do you want to come with or do you trust me?”
Aunt Laurie grinned. “I’ll come with. I don’t start work until midday today. Besides, after the last time I let you decorate…”
“Oh, that was years ago and Steve’s idea.” Hattie halfheartedly complained. “And what’s wrong with lime green and orange? You had one of those bubble chairs decked out in that.”
Laughter filled the room. “That was left over from the seventies. And I was glad to see the back of it.” She broke off as the phone rang. “Hello.” She listened for a moment then held out the phone. “It’s the hospital, for you.”
****
Cal arrived just before seven. His stomach roiled within him and he wished he hadn’t eaten. Or at least had something plain like eggs on toast, rather than the curry he’d fancied on his way home. He rang the bell and waited.
Hattie answered the door, her face pale and her arm in a…cast?
Shock flooded him. “What happened?”
“Hello to you too, Cal.” She opened the door properly. “Come in.” She left him in the hall and went back into the lounge.
Shaking his head, he shut the door and followed her. Laurie had rung earlier and said Hattie was out of sorts, but he hadn’t expected this. “What happened?”
“The hospital rang. The consultant was checking the files from the weekend and decided he didn’t like my x-ray. They called me back in and redid it and my wrist is broken after all.”
“It could be worse.”
She raised bitter, anger filled eyes to him. “How could this possibly be any worse?”
He sat next to her. “You could be on crutches as well.”
She scowled. “That’s not possible.”
He grinned and waited patiently for the penny to drop.
It took a while before she relaxed slightly and a faint smile crossed her lips. “Yeah, I guess so.”
He hugged her, planting a kiss on her cheek. “But as you’re not, I’m taking you dancing.”
“I can’t dance like this.”
“I beg to differ. The last time I checked, people dance with their feet, not their wrists. You’ll be fine, I promise.”
“I don’t know how to dance other than ballet and I told you, I can’t do that anymore. Not since some dumb accident when I was fourteen.”
“No problem. I booked lessons for us tonight and Thursday.”
“Lessons?” A wonderfully puzzled look crossed her face, making him want to kiss her even more. “Just because I don’t know anything but ballet, doesn’t mean I need lessons.”
“We both do.” He gently pulled her to her feet. “I have something special planned for Saturday. Now go put on a pair of flat canvas shoes and a skirt. We need to be there in twenty-five minutes.”
They arrived at the hall just in time and he led her onto the dance floor. Most of the other couples were much older, but
he didn’t care. For the next couple of hours this was just him and Hattie.
“What are we doing here?” she asked.
“Ballroom dancing.”
“You’re kidding?” Amazement filled her face, her eyes sparkling. “Like on the television?”
“Without the judges I hope, but yeah. It looks so easy and effortless on the TV and I’ve always wanted to learn and as you don’t know how to dance properly…” He broke off and grinned.
She shook her head at him. “And this connects to Saturday, how?”
“I’m taking you to a tea dance.”
Her face lit up like the full moon on a clear night. “Oh, wow.” She hugged him as tightly as she could with one arm. “Nanna met Grandad at one of those. I had no idea they still did them.”
“Maybe not on the mainland, but here on the island, the Palladium does them once a month. If you’d like to come, of course.”
“I’d love to. But my arm…”
“Won’t be a problem.”
No stranger to footwork, Cal found the first dance they learned was easy and soon they were both dancing like professionals. Or they may as well be. Hattie laughed and smiled and relaxed in his arms, following his lead effortlessly. He lost himself in her eyes, the scent of her perfume and her presence. He had easily the most beautiful woman in the room in his arms, but his reaction to her body flush against his, stunned him. He thought being a Christian would help him control himself, but he wanted her and it took every ounce of restraint he had, not to mention a shed load of telegram prayers, to simply drive her home afterwards.
He opened the truck door and walked her up the path to the house.
Her eyes sparkled like stars. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”
“You’re welcome.”
“It was nice not having to share you with your pager.”
“Actually, my pager came too.” He chuckled, low and long. “But you know what they say. Love me, love my pager.”
Hattie tilted her head. “I thought that referred to dogs.”
He lifted his hand and ran it slowly down her cheek. “Hattie…”
Her eyes darkened as she studied him. She leaned into his touch. Did she feel the same tightening in her belly that he did? “Yes?”