by Peggy Webb
For a little while Jake allowed himself the luxury of feeling, of dreaming. Tenderness warmed his heart and dreams tugged at his mind. He pictured Sarah and Jenny in his home, belonging to him. He imagined himself being noble and strong and kind and loving. But most of all, he imagined himself as their protector, always keeping them from harm.
"Mine," Jenny demanded, tugging at Jake's pant legs. She was holding an armful of bedraggled pansies, roots and all. Dirt covered her face and hands, but she was smiling and happy.
Jake knelt beside her. "Yes, Jenny. They are yours." He took her grimy little hand. "I have something else you'll like. Do you want to go and see?"
"See?"
He glanced at Sarah.
"She's asking you what do you want her to see?"
"It's a surprise, Jenny. Do you want to see a surprise?"
Jenny furrowed her brow and studied him long and hard before she gave her answer. Finally she smiled.
"Yes."
They started across his well-kept lawn together. Jake glanced over his shoulder. Sarah stood beside the walk, watching them.
"Are you coming, Sarah?"
"Yes." She smiled. "Oh, yes. I wouldn't miss this for anything in the world."
"Her name is Martha Lynn," Jake explained when they reached the kennels. The golden retriever looked up at the sound of her name.
"Dog. Big dog." Jenny pressed her face against the fence. "Big dog."
"Do you like her, Jenny?"
"Yes, yes, yes," she chanted, clapping her hands.
"Someday I'm going to get her a little dog at the animal shelter. She loves animals."
"Animals love her," Jake said. "Look at that."
Martha Lynn had walked to the fence and was busy licking Jenny's hand. Jenny giggled.
Jake and Sarah stepped back to watch the happy twosome, dog and child, made to be together. Jenny glanced up at Jake, smiling, but all he saw were her blue eyes.
Can I have a 'prise. Daddy? Can I? Can I?
Of course you can, sweetheart. Daddy's little girl can have anything she wants.
Anything, Daddy?
Anything, Bonnie. The moon, the sun, the stars. You name it.
I want a puppy, and I want her name to be Martha Lynn.
Jake struggled to push the ghosts to the back of his mind, but he didn't succeed until Jenny turned back to the dog.
"Sarah, how would you feel about getting Jenny a dog now?"
"I can't afford—we're just getting settled in."
"A golden retriever puppy complete with a lifetime guarantee of dog food and vet visits."
"Martha Lynn has puppies?"
"She does."
"And you're offering to give Jenny an expensive pedigreed dog. . . . She does have a pedigree, I assume?"
"Yes."
"Complete with dog food and paid-up vet bills."
"Yes."
Sarah studied him a long time. "Why?" she finally asked.
He could have lied. He could have told Sarah he just wanted to give Jenny a dog, that he wanted Martha Lynn's puppies to have a good home. But he couldn’t lie, not to Sarah.
"Because Jenny reminds me of someone else."
Sarah didn’t ask who, but stood still, waiting. Bonnie came to his mind, alive and laughing as if it had been only yesterday that she'd stood beside the kennels with her new puppy. Jake's throat closed, and he couldn't say any more.
Sarah touched his arm gently. "I can see you must have loved that special someone very much."
Jake nodded, still too full of memories to speak.
"You are much too generous, but how can I say no?" Sarah squeezed his arm. "Thank you, Jake. Jenny will thank you, too. In her way."
He looked at his arm where Sarah's hand rested. It was a precious touch, for there was no artfulness in Sarah, no pretense. He covered her hand with his.
"Sarah, you're very sweet."
"Oh." She drew the sound out, so that her mouth stayed shaped for the longest while. Jake struggled with the temptation to lean down and kiss her. They held each other with their eyes until Sarah finally pulled her hand away. Then she reached up and tucked in the curl that always curved onto her cheek.
"No one has ever called me sweet before."
"They should have, because you are."
They got caught up in looking at each other once more. Finally Sarah sighed, then smiled.
"Don't paint me too sweet, Jake."
"I can't. I don't have any blue paint."
They both laughed. Jenny turned to see what was going on. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she grabbed both of them by the pant legs and pulled.
"Big dog, big dog," she said. Then she gave a great imitation of Martha Lynn's tongue hanging out.
"You're a little mimic." Sarah bent over her daughter and scooped her up. "Shall I tell her now, Jake?"
"Yes."
"Jenny, Jake is giving you a puppy of your very own."
"Big dog?"
"No, it will be a little dog, a very little dog. and you'll have to be careful with it so it will grow up to be a big dog."
"Me?"
"Yes, Jenny. A little dog just for you."
Jenny still wasn't convinced. She furrowed her brow and looked first at her mother then at Jake.
"Hug dog?" She wrapped her arms around herself to demonstrate.
"Yes, my precious. You can hug him."
"I’ll get one for her." Jake went into the kennel and selected a fat female from the litter, all the time thinking about Jenny. In two words she had communicated a universal need of all living creatures—to be loved. Sometimes even he fit into that category, for there he was, attending a picnic, basking in Jenny's love and Sarah's admiration. He could take what he wanted and, at the end of the day, walk away. That was the good part about being a friend to Jenny and Sarah. He could walk away. No commitments, no involvement, but most of all, no heartbreak, no pain that burned the mind and seared the soul.
He guessed that made him selfish. Cold, heartless, careless, selfish. He was setting quite a track record.
That kind of thinking was sure to put a pall on a good day. With an effort he cleared his mind and left the kennel. Then he gave the puppy to Jenny and stood back to watch. It was almost like seeing Bonnie all over again. After her initial squeal of delight, Jenny picked up her puppy, then laid her head against the soft fur and began to croon.
Until that moment he didn't know it was possible to be sad and happy at the same time.
"Thank you," Sarah said.
"Thank you, Sarah."
She understood. Without asking why, she seemed to know that she had given as much as she had received. Standing on tiptoe, she kissed Jake's cheek. He felt as if he were free-falling from a plane. Somewhere below him was the ground, but he wasn't sure exactly where he would land, or in what condition. He decided to pull the rip cord before it was too late.
"If I'm not mistaken, there's some fried chicken in that basket we left in the car. And I'm starved."
"Good. I cooked enough for a big man like you."
"I’ll make certain that all your work is not in vain, Sarah."
She reached for his hand in another of her totally artless gestures. Going down the path with Sarah laughing and chatting and Jenny following along with her new puppy, Jake knew contentment. He tightened his hold on Sarah's hand, wishing the day could last forever.
Chapter Five
They spread the picnic lunch beside a lake. Jenny was too excited about her puppy to eat more than a bite, but Jake didn't let any chicken go to waste. Grinning like a schoolboy, he ate piece after piece.
"This is delicious." Bits of crust decorated his mouth. His uninhibited enthusiasm reminded Sarah of Jenny.
"Have another piece." She passed him another leg and watched as he took a big bite.
"Mmm. Magnificent." His eyes shone with delight.
Sarah couldn't remember a time she had been happier or more content. Jake was showing a side of himself she had n
ever seen, a playful man, capable of childlike wonder and joy in the simple things of life.
She leaned against the trunk of the oak tree and watched Jake. In the corner of her vision she saw Jenny, romping with her puppy.
"You look happy, Sarah."
"Summertime does that to me." And you.
"I'm glad you came." He waved a bone at her, laughing. "And not just for the chicken."
She waited for him to elaborate, not realizing she was holding her breath until he started speaking again.
"Once this estate was filled with laughter. You and Jenny brought the laughter back." He gazed across the lake, seeing things she couldn't see. When he turned back, the playful man had disappeared and a haunted man looked at her. "All that was a very long time ago."
"What was a long time ago, Jake?"
For a moment he looked as if he might tell her, and then he had another of his mercurial mood changes.
"Did I promise you a horse?" The laughter was back in his eyes.
"Indeed, you did."
"Never let it be said I'm not a man of my word." He reached for her hand and pulled her up. "Come. Let's find the horse."
They collected Jenny and, after promising her a horseback ride, convinced her to put her new puppy in the kennels.
Jake's stables were filled with fine horses. He selected his most gentle one for the ride.
"This one is called Slowpoke." It was a beautiful black mare.
"She looks capable of running the Kentucky Derby."
"Are you afraid of horses, Sarah?"
"Not if I have somebody big and strong to hold on to."
"A hero?"
There was a wistful quality to his voice. Sarah knew she was seeing an important truth about Jake Townsend. He longed to be a hero.
"Yes. Jake. A hero." She put her hand on his arm. "And you will be perfect."
"You almost make me believe that."
The haunted look was in his eyes again. Impulsively Sarah threw her arms around him, hugging tightly. Mingled scents of grass and hay and the fresh outdoors clung to his shirt. He smelled masculine . . . and wonderful. Sarah got confused. Was she hugging Jake for herself or for him? When she had thrown her arms around him, her intention had been to comfort. Now she wasn't sure what her intentions were.
He hugged back, and for a moment they stood with her head on his chest and his arms circling her waist and their hearts thumping in rhythm as if they had been designed by angels to do so.
"Believe it, Jake. Believe it," she whispered.
"Sarah . . ."He tangled his hands in her hair and gently eased her head back so he could see her face. His eyes were dark in the semi-gloom of the stable, the intense green of hardwood trees deep in a forest, dark and mysterious and compelling. His warm breath stirred the hair at her temples, and she thought he was going to kiss her. Please, she said silently, but she didn't know whether she was saying please do or please don't.
She longed to feel the heavens sprinkle stars on her soul, and yet she knew she could not, must not encourage Jake to intimacy. She had enough in her life to deal with. How could she possibly handle more?
"Now about that horse," she said, breaking the spell that held them captive.
Jake stepped back, and she thought she saw relief on his face. That was all well and good, she decided as he set about saddling the horse. She should be relieved too. Only she wasn't. She was forlorn and puzzled and maybe a little disappointed. Truth to tell, she was a lot disappointed.
Oh, she was becoming a selfish woman. Here Jake was, giving her a glorious day, and she wanted more. Never mind that she should be thinking of Jenny. She was going to have to do something about herself. And soon. Before she got into real trouble.
She was still brooding on her sins when Jake trotted the horse out and suggested they all saddle up.
"All of us?" she asked.
"That's the only way I can keep you safe."
And so they all ended up on the horse, with Jenny in Jake's lap and Sarah sitting behind, circling her arms around him once more. Lord, are you playing Jokes today? Sending more temptation than I can bear?
She clung to Jake's back and tried not to feel buttery soft and warm inside, tried not to dream of things that could never be.
"I can bear it. I have to," she said aloud. Fortunately, the wind took her voice away and Jake never heard.
Jake was an expert horseman. Sarah decided that he was an expert at everything. Clinging to his back, with the rhythm of the horse under her and the wind caressing her face, she wondered if he would be an expert at lovemaking. What would Jake say if he knew? He would probably run like the devil. Land sakes, she was getting depraved since she'd moved from Birmingham. Maybe it was something in the Florence air.
"That's enough for today," Jake said. "Jenny is all tuckered out."
It seemed the ride had just begun, and now it was over. Jake helped Sarah off the horse. When she felt his arms around her, she wanted to slide toward his chest and just keep on going until the two of them were in a tangled heap on the ground. Panting. She actually wanted to be panting.
"I guess I'm tired too."
"In that case, I'd better take both of you home."
Now she had done it. She didn't want to go home. Home was a place without Jake. Nevertheless, she walked along beside him back to the stables as he held Jenny in his arms and led the horse.
By the time he turned the horse over to a groom, Jenny's head was nodding on Jake's shoulder. Sarah would never forget the look on his face as long as she lived. She saw disbelief, then wonder, then joy.
He started singing, so softly at first, she thought she had imagined the song. Then his voice got stronger, and it was a beautiful baritone. He was singing a lullaby. Jenny snuggled close and was soon fast asleep.
After they got into the car, he laid Jenny gently on Sarah's lap, careful not to wake her. Still mindful of his sleeping cargo, he didn’t talk going home. That was just as well. Sarah couldn't think of a thing that would do to say out loud.
She was thinking plenty of other things. Where will you go after you take us home? Is there a beautiful woman waiting for you? One without a child?
She was ashamed of herself. Almost wishing to be carefree when she had the most precious gift of all—Jenny.
When they got to her house, Jake insisted on carrying Jenny inside.
"She's getting almost too big for you to carry," he said.
Her heart seemed to grow as she watched Jake carry her daughter up the steps, careful of the rickety board. She opened the door for him, and he carried Jenny inside, all the way to her little bed.
Sarah stood beside the door and watched him tuck Jenny in. He's done it before. The thought crystallized so suddenly that Sarah was caught off guard. What a silly thing to be thinking. Just because Jake looked so natural. He would be a wonderful father. If only . . .
"Sarah ..."
"Yes?"
"Thank you for a wonderful day."
"You're the one who deserves the thanks."
He came to her in the doorway, and they stood together, crowded, his legs brushing against hers. She wished she could think of a clever ploy to keep him that way. It was a foolish notion, of course. She couldn't keep Jake standing in a doorway forever.
"Tell Jenny good-bye for me when she wakes up from her nap."
"I will."
He still stood there with his leg touching hers. It was wonderful.
"Well . . . I should be going."
"I suppose. ..."
"Good-bye, Sarah."
"Good-bye." She stood in the doorway of Jenny's bedroom and watched him walk down the hall. He let himself out the front door, and then he was gone.
Sarah felt glued to the spot. She smoothed her blouse and fussed with her hair. Jake was gone and so was the warm glow inside her. When he had said he had to be going, why hadn't she suggested he stay for a glass of lemonade? She might even have served cookies.
What would have been the
point? She went into the kitchen and had lemonade and cookies all by herself.
o0o
Sarah pressed the memory of the picnic between the pages of her mind like a flower. Every day she took the memory out and looked at it, and each time she did, she found it fresh and beautiful. Jake, with crusts from the fried chicken on his mouth and merriment dancing in his eyes. Jake, wrapping his arms around her as he helped her onto the horse, holding her in his solid embrace. Jake, cradling Jenny's bright head against his shoulder, singing to her until she fell asleep.
It had been a day made in paradise. Sarah sighed and turned back to her sewing. She had dolls to make. Useless dreaming didn't pay the bills.
She hadn’t seen Jake in three days, and chances were she wouldn't see him again for a long time. After all, he was a busy man. He was also unattached and probably had a line of females a mile long waiting for his attentions. He had vowed friendship, but that didn’t mean he would spend every waking minute with her and Jenny. That didn’t even necessarily mean he would ever see them again. After all, Bobby Wayne had declared love till death do us part, and look what had happened to him.
"Stop it, Sarah Love," she whispered to herself. If she kept up with that line of thinking, she was going to get absolutely maudlin.
Sarah glanced at her daughter before she put the finishing touch on the doll pinafore she was making. Jenny was sitting on the floor teaching her puppy how to color.
"Red, 'ake. Red," she insisted, holding the crayon under his nose. She had named her puppy Jake, never mind that it was female. She selected another crayon and showed it to the puppy. "Yellow, 'ake. Yellow."
Jenny didn't know half the things other four-year- olds did, but she did know colors. Sarah supposed it was the artist in her.
Sarah put the finished pinafore on a doll, then set the doll on the shelf.
"Snack time. Jenny."
"'ake too?"
"Yes. Jake too."
Sarah went through her afternoon routine, snack then a game with Jenny, then nap time. When Jenny was sleeping, she went back into her shop. It wasn’t a shop, really. It was a large sunny room on the west side of the house, with a picture window that faced the road and its own entrance. Sarah had hung her sign the day before—THE DOLLHOUSE.