by Lyn Cote
“She has a number of dress occasions looming ahead.” Jo’s tone became brisk, businesslike. “Most notably the eighth-grade spring fling and her graduation party.”
“Dress occasions. You mean she needs some new dresses?”
Jo’s face crinkled into one of her irresistible smiles. “Yes, quick on the uptake as always—you got it. She needs new dresses, shoes, stockings, jewelry and I think a manicure. And a gift. You need to get her an eighth-grade graduation gift, some keepsake of the occasion.”
Feeling out of his depth, he asked, “What would be good for that?”
“I was thinking of a gold locket.”
“You mean like a necklace?” He pictured his sister with a nice gold necklace.
“Yes, that’s it.” Jo wrinkled her nose at him as though mocking. “But a locket opens and she can place a picture of her and a friend or you inside.”
He doubted Tassie would want his photo around her neck. “Would you help me pick it out?”
Her face fell and she looked away again.
“I’m sorry.” He hurried and sat down in the armchair near her. “I didn’t mean to upset you. You’re doing more for Tassie than I’d even dreamt of. I know I’m asking a lot—”
She looked up at him. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“Don’t you see what you’re doing to me?” she whispered, not meeting his eyes. “You’re making me care about you.”
The words shimmered like fireflies in his mind. He couldn’t think of anything to say.
“You and I both know that we aren’t meant for each other,” Jo continued, sounding and looking as if he’d driven her up against the ropes. “This isn’t a movie or a romance novel. We’re just trying to help your sister grow up a little, gain confidence. But when you come here and you do so much for me, don’t you realize you’re tempting me to care about you?”
No, I didn’t know. But he felt the tug of his own conscience. He’d been all too aware of the attraction she’d become to him, drawing him nearer—step by step. “Jo, when I see you with my sister—” the words came out slowly, haltingly “—I feel something for you, too.”
“Gratitude?”
“No.” He reached for her mug and lifted it from her fingers, setting it on the coffee table. “More.” He knelt down and framed her pretty face within his hands. “Much more.”
His hands trembled. To mask this, he ran his fingers through her short red hair, the color of burnished copper. It warmed his hands. His mouth hovered over hers. “May I?” he whispered. “Please?”
Her delicate hands found his, covering them. When she nodded, he felt her silky hair sliding within his palms.
He took a shuddering breath and let his lips touch hers. Fireworks exploded inside him. He craved her like sweet honey to a starving man.
And she was kissing him back. A miracle.
Had he ever kissed anyone before? No, he hadn’t. He’d never kissed anyone like Jo, never kissed anyone the way he was kissing her. It was more than a kiss; it was an invitation, a plea—Care about me, Jo. I want to care about you.
“Y’all home?” a woman called from the doorway. “Jo?”
Bram shot to his feet.
But too late. He recognized the woman as one of Jo’s friends. And she’d seen them kissing. Now the fat was in the fire. He’d worked so hard to discourage Prescott’s groupie-wannabes. Would gossip now begin?
“Hi.”
Jo swiveled her office chair at her computer desk in her shop to look at the man who’d just entered.
Bram, looking disconcerted, stood with the counter between them.
“Hi.” Jo felt herself turning warm crimson under his gaze. She’d come into the closed shop on Sunday afternoon to do some bookkeeping. But the computer mouse had sat idle under her palm. This man’s face, the memory of his Saturday-afternoon kiss had distracted her all day yesterday and today. Concealing a shiver of recognition, she clicked Close and shut the file.
“I wanted to talk to you about that shopping trip.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“Oh.”
“When did you want to take her?” He stared at the counter between them.
“I thought we’d go during her Easter break from school. The doctor says he’ll be taking off my cast by then. Aunt Becky will man the shop for me. I thought we’d go to Little Rock.” How could such bland words hide such longing?
“That sounds good,” he said, his tone stilted.
“Right,” she said.
“How much should I give her to spend?” he asked. He looked as nonplussed as she felt.
“Well, how much will your budget allow?”
“Money’s not a problem.”
“Okay. I’ll use my best judgment then.”
“Right. And about this graduation locket. Did you want to go ahead with that?”
She wanted to refuse but couldn’t. “Fine. I’ve just been looking at some on the Internet. Or we can go to Mitchell’s.”
“Great.” He stared at her and she stared back at him. He braced his hands against her counter. “I’m…afraid I…embarrassed you yesterday,” he said, looking pained.
“You mean…” She was not going to say, “when you were kissing me?”
“Your friend looked shocked.”
“I guess she was.” An understatement. Jo had begged Elizabeth not to tell Hannah.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” He stared at his hands.
“No.” Of course, he hadn’t. Why did you kiss me, Bram? Just to prove you could? To see that I had no defenses?
“Well, I guess that’s all I came to say.” He pushed away from the counter.
“Okay.” She gave him a bright artificial smile. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time, not for years. Pain squeezed around her heart, nearly wrenching a groan from her.
“Okay. See you.” He lifted a hand in farewell and then turned away.
Her hand reached for him, but of course, he didn’t see that. Just as well. “See you,” she mumbled.
The bell jingled and the door shut behind him. Lord, I don’t think I can survive many more conversations like that one. Couldn’t you just blot out my feelings for this man? Hannah and Elizabeth are counting on me to remain strong. I’m not going to give in to temptation. The fleeting joy would not equal the loss when we parted. I can’t foresee a happy ending for Bram and me.
Chapter Seven
April had come with fragrant Easter lilies and early-blossoming crepe myrtle bushes cascading with crinkly pale-pink and deep-rose blooms. Despite the spring rains, the sunshine glistened all over Arkansas—sparkling and fresh. And Jo’s hairline fracture had healed and the rented crutches had been returned.
Feeling the balm of springtime, Jo and Tassie, both in jeans and denim jackets, strolled through one of nearby Little Rock’s glittering department stores, their mission—Tassie’s new clothes. Jo entered the juniors’ department and looked around. “Where are the dresses?”
The salesgirl, who appeared to be the same age as Tassie, looked at Jo as if she were an alien life form. “Dresses? Over there.”
Jo shook her head and followed hanging signs to the right place. Immediately, Tassie gravitated to the flashy “cool” dresses—very short. Jo hung back, trying to come up with a strategy to point Tassie in the right direction.
“Isn’t this cool?” Tassie held up a hot-pink dress made of cotton knit that looked like a T-shirt with a hem.
“Yes, it is, but it will only be cool for about ten minutes and then it will be out of style. You don’t want your daughter giggling when she looks at photos of you, do you?”
Tassie looked puzzled. “What does that mean?”
“Haven’t you ever seen photos of girls from the fifties wearing bright pink felt poodle skirts?”
“Ooh, you mean those big skirts that stuck out?” Tassie pantomimed a flaring skirt with her hands.
“Yes, let’s find something that will not look ridicu
lous twenty years from now.”
Tassie hung up the T-shirt dress and followed Jo to another rack of dresses. After much discussing, trying on, and haggling, Tassie said she would be content with a simple ivory linen-blend dress with a matching jacket.
“Good choice.” Jo patted the girl on the back. “You can wear it to church and it will stay in style a lot longer than that first dress. Come on. We can go back to juniors’ now. I did see a few things I thought you might like there.”
Finally after buying shoes, dresses and a couple of pairs of pierced earrings, Jo and Tassie walked out of the department each loaded down with stylish bags. The bright sunlight glinted off metal on the tall buildings around them as they walked to the parking lot.
For a moment and for the first time in weeks, Jo felt like looking skyward and twirling around on her toes—giggling. Guiding Tassie’s purchases today made Jo feel old in one way, but in another privileged to have been given a role in Tassie’s transition from child to young woman. “Tassie, I’ve enjoyed this so much. It was so good to get outside again and be able to walk without crutches.”
“Miss Jo, can I ask you something?” Tassie asked, sounding subdued.
The two of them reached the parking lot and began looking for Jo’s car. “What?” Jo hoped Tassie wouldn’t be asking about the birds and the bees. Jo didn’t feel up to that talk right now.
“How do you know if a boy likes you?”
Bram’s face flickered in Jo’s mind—the way he’d looked at her that day weeks ago when he’d knelt beside her sofa and kissed her. “A perennial question,” Jo stalled.
“I mean, it’s hard for me ’cause I’m Bram’s sister.”
Jo could think of several different ways being Bram’s sister might make this aspect of life difficult. While she led Tassie to her car, she waited to see exactly which Tassie was addressing. “Go on,” she coaxed.
“I mean he’s the coach and everybody looks up to him.” After stowing her bags in the back seat, Tassie got in the car. “Like, he’s really special.”
“Ah.” So Tassie had figured out how Bram’s position could help her. Jo put the key in the ignition.
“I’m nobody special.”
“Yes, you are,” Jo insisted, interrupting. She backed out of the parking place.
Tassie shook her head and kept talking, “Guys talk to me. And I don’t know if it’s ’cause they like me or just want to—” the girl’s voice faltered “—I don’t know.”
“You mean guys might want to get to know you in order to make a favorable impression on your brother?” Jo drove onto the busy street. “That’s a tough one. I don’t think there is any hard and fast rule that I can give you. Each case will be judged as an individual.”
“How?” Tassie asked, sounding woeful.
Jo took time to consider what to say. Tassie had a very valid concern. I’m not really the person she should be asking. I’ve never even taken the chance of falling in love.
“Tassie,” Jo finally said, “I think you’ll have to pay attention to your own instincts. If something doesn’t feel right about a guy, then you should keep him at arm’s length until you have time to get to know him.”
“What do you mean at arm’s length?” Tassie asked.
“I mean just be friends and take time to get to know him as a friend first.” She headed down the highway that would take them back to Prescott, back to Bram. Suddenly, she realized that the advice she was giving Tassie was the advice she needed herself. What was wrong with taking a wait-and see approach to her feelings for Bram?
“You mean not date him officially?” Tassie asked, pushing her long hair back from her face.
“Right.” Jo’s spirit lifted inside her, a sudden fluttering, an elation. I don’t have to make a decision about Bram right now. Why can’t we just take time to get to know each other? Time will tell, they always say.
“That makes sense.”
It does. “And also you can analyze what the young man has to gain by getting to know you.” Jo again thought of how Bram had revealed being used by women who were only interested in his jersey, not him. That had wounded him. What woman in her right mind could mistake how deeply Bram cared about people he loved? It was the main thing that attracted her to him.
“I mean,” Jo went on, “if he’s already on the team or not interested in football, that might lead you to the conclusion that he has no reason to try to impress Bram.”
“Yeah.” Tassie grinned. “Yeah.”
Jo grinned at the relief in Tassie’s voice, but more so from her own sensation of being suddenly set free. That’s the secret, Bram. We’ll become friends, and if he wants more he can wait a few years. Why not? “Let’s get home and show your big brother how much of his money we were able to spend.” Jo looked heavenward. Thank you, Lord, for showing me the way.
“Let’s.” Tassie laughed out loud and rolled down her window, letting spring in.
Driving down the familiar highway, Jo hummed, letting herself drink in the moment—Tassie’s innocent pleasure at spending a day shopping for happy occasions and at having a boy interested in her. And her own joy at making a wise decision about Bram.
Outside Bram’s house, an older two-story bungalow on a quiet street of tall maples and pines, Jo let Tassie entice her to come in to show off her new purchases to her big brother. Inside, Jo looked around with interest. This was a bachelor’s house, clean but no frills. No pictures hung on the walls, no knickknacks on the mantel. Utilitarian shades on the windows. White paint on all the walls. Bramwell Dixon was in serious need of an interior decorator.
Bram sauntered down the stairs, masculine to the max and devastating as usual. Jo tried to keep her mouth closed.
“So, did you two break the bank in Little Rock?” he teased.
His deep voice made little darts speed through her veins. “Well, we burned up the bills you gave us. Sorry, no change.” Jo waved the bags she still held in each hand.
“Bram,” Tassie said, “look at my graduation dress.” The girl lifted the bottom of the large gold-and-white plastic bag which covered the simple ivory dress.
“I like that.” Bram looked sincerely pleased. “It’s…elegant. But I knew Jo would get just what you needed.”
Jo couldn’t help herself. She glowed with his praise.
After showing him the shoes and a few other purchases, Tassie threw her arms around him. “Thanks for everything! I never had so much money to spend and Miss Jo was great. We got shoes and everything, even underwear!”
Bram looked sincerely relieved that he hadn’t been included on the shopping trip. “Good. Good.”
“Well, I guess I’ll be going then.” Jo put down her bags.
“Oh, Jo—” Bram stopped her “—I was hoping you’d go out with me and Tassie and Adam tomorrow night.”
Out with me, Jo echoed silently. A date?
“Adam?” Tassie exclaimed.
“Yeah, he dropped by looking for you. He wanted to know if I allowed you to go out on dates yet.” Bram knew Tassie would not like that Adam had applied to him first.
Suddenly glaring, his sister started to fire up.
“I told him,” Bram cut in, “that you won’t be allowed to date one on one until you’re sixteen. But…” He held up one hand. “I told him that I didn’t mind him coming along on a double date—you and Adam and Jo and me—to celebrate your graduation maybe next Saturday. I thought we’d go to that new supper club in Little Rock.” He turned to Jo. “What do you say?”
Chapter Eight
A week later, on Saturday night in the chic new supper club in Little Rock, Jo sat across from Bram at a crisp-linened table for two. The romantically darkened dining room was elegant in shades of burgundy and pale rose. Flute-shaped sconces of frosted glass with bands of bronze augmented the flickering candlelight on each small table. The aroma of delicious food floated over all and filled Jo with a keen anticipation of her dinner. And the murmur of intimate conversations and the chi
nk of ice in glasses lulled her tense nerves.
Bram had been insistent that she demonstrate to Tassie how to dress and behave on a formal date. So Jo had overseen Tassie’s choice of dress and Jo had worn her favorite ivory silk sheath with a mandarin collar. But she couldn’t decide if she’d agreed for that reason or if in all honesty, she’d accepted the invitation primarily because she wanted to have dinner out with Bram.
In any event, he hadn’t hog-tied her and dragged her here. She’d made her decision and must face up to it. She tried to summon up her defenses against the hunk decked out in a gleaming starched white shirt and black suit and tie sitting across from her. But it was hard work.
Nearby, Adam and Tassie sat stiffly across from one another at another table for two. Jo leaned forward, “Why didn’t you reserve a table for four?”
Bram glanced at his sister who appeared to be strangling the linen napkin in her lap. “Because I thought it would be nice to give them privacy. They might not want to hang out with old folks.”
Jo recalled the back seat conversation she’d overheard on the drive here. Musical groups, movies and actors she’d never heard of. “I see your point.”
He grinned.
And she couldn’t argue with the fact that the man looked fine tonight. Mighty fine. Bram Dixon did clean up well. If possible, he was more dangerously handsome tonight than he’d been at her cousin’s Valentine’s Day wedding. She gripped the end of her swizzle stick strung with crimson maraschino cherries and stirred her rosy Shirley Temple.
“I’m glad I was able to persuade you to come with me,” Bram said, “I thought it would do Tassie good to see how a lady behaves on a formal date.”
“So you said—repeatedly.” She bit off the first cherry and chewed, its tangy sweetness flowing over her tongue.
He chuckled. “Well, you did take some stiff persuasion.”
She nodded, but did not reply. She couldn’t. Gazing at Bram’s sculpted features in the flickering candlelight had suddenly blocked her throat. She wanted to trace his sun-highlighted eyebrows with her fingertips and tease the dark hair that dipped low over his forehead.