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Jane's Gift

Page 4

by Karen Erickson


  “So Marty’s not coming home for the weekend?” Jane opened the passenger door and slid her children out of the middle seat of her sister’s SUV. Mindy’s two kids sat in the back.

  Mindy shrugged and slammed her door with a bit of extra force. “He’s staying in San Francisco. Says the conference ran over and he can’t come home until Sunday night.”

  Jane said nothing. It didn’t sound right. Ever since she’d come home, things between Mindy and her husband hadn’t been good. Yes, every marriage had its problems—Jane and Stephen hadn’t been immune to it, either; they’d had their issues just like everyone else. But she’d always been able to trust Stephen.

  She wasn’t sure about Marty. Heck, she’d barely seen him since she’d moved back to Lone Pine, and she’d been there for months already. And Mindy seemed so brittle lately, like she’d break at any moment. Mindy complained about him and their marriage constantly.

  Jane mused on this as they all walked together to the front entrance of the town rec hall. When the children ran ahead of them, Jane was surprised to see a line at the door, though at least it seemed to be moving quickly. It was cold outside and an early winter storm was headed their way, bringing with it plenty of rain for the weekend. Jane’s thin skin ensured she was cold the majority of the time.

  When they got to the front door, a woman sat behind a table, taking everyone’s money and handing them entrance tickets. Mindy whipped out her wallet and waved her hand in Jane’s direction. “I’ve got it for all of us.”

  “Oh, Min, you don’t have to do that…”

  “No, no, I insist. It’s for charity, after all. Marty’s always telling me we need write-offs.”

  “But—”

  “Jane, seriously, learn how to take a gift.” She started to hand over her cash to the older woman sitting behind the fold-out table. “Two adults, five children, please.”

  The woman shook her head, jerking her thumb in Jane’s direction. “She’s already paid for, and her kids, too.”

  “What?” Mindy handed over only one twenty and turned to look at Jane. “Did you prepay?”

  Jane shook her head as they moved away from the table. “I was trying to tell you. Our tickets were paid for by…someone else.”

  “Who?” Mindy’s voice rose and a sparkle shone in her eyes. “Ah, my little sister is holding out on me! Always the secret keeper, just like when you were a kid.”

  “I didn’t keep secrets from anyone,” Jane denied, but Mindy just laughed.

  “You kept secrets all the time. As if you enjoyed holding that little tidbit of whatever you had close to your chest. Savoring it.” Mindy shook her head. “Let’s get a table and you can tell me all about your mystery benefactor.”

  Did she want to tell Mindy about Christian? There was nothing to tell, really. She didn’t want to admit her crush on Christian Nelson, not yet. What if her sister thought she was out of line? Guilt hung over her, heavy and dull. Over time she’d grown used to Stephen’s passing, but in Mindy’s eyes, would she look like she was moving too fast?

  Jane refused to let survivor’s guilt hang on her like a cloak of shame. Nearly two years was long enough to mourn a person. Stephen wouldn’t want her to stop living, would he? Just because he was gone?

  “I can’t stand it any longer. Tell me who bought your tickets!” Mindy demanded the minute they’d settled themselves at a table. The kids had already run off to do who knows what, though Sophia still sat perched on Jane’s lap.

  “You have no patience, do you?” Jane teased with a little smirk.

  “It was Mac, wasn’t it? He told me he wasn’t coming to this.”

  “He’s not. He has a hot date. And no, he didn’t pay for our tickets.”

  “He has a hot date? With whom? Remember, I’m an old married lady. I have to live vicariously through all of you.” Mindy paused, her gaze dropped to the table. “Y-you know what I mean.”

  Right. Jane sometimes forgot she wasn’t the old married lady anymore, either. She’d started her life with Stephen at such a young age—only twenty years old when they’d gotten married. She’d known then that he was the one. So why waste time?

  Now she was single again. Well, widowed. And didn’t that have a pitiful sound to it?

  “I do know what you mean. And trust me, I’m not that exciting. Mac’s the one with girls falling at his feet.”

  Mindy’s gaze lifted, a laugh sounding from her lips. “He’s young, cute, and single. A rarity in these parts.”

  Jane could think of another man who was young, cute, and single. Why didn’t he have to beat women off with a stick? Maybe he did, and she should’ve done her research first, not just relied on Mac’s word. He was a guy. What did he know?

  She should’ve talked to Mindy from the get-go.

  “Min, what do you know about Christian Nelson?”

  Mindy’s brows drew together and she opened her arms, letting Sophia crawl onto her lap. “The fire captain? I know he and Mac are friends. I hear he’s a nice guy, but he dates around a lot.”

  Great, so he was a serial dater. Was she just another woman to add to his list? And why would he choose her, considering all the baggage she came with?

  Jane glanced around the room. She didn’t want anyone to hear her, especially Chris himself. “He’s the one who paid for our tickets.”

  Mindy’s mouth dropped open and she stared silently for so long, Jane started to squirm in her seat. “So is this some sort of date or what?” she finally asked.

  “I honestly don’t know.” Jane shrugged, feeling more than a little stupid. “Mac arranged for us to go to the fire station and Chris gave us the tour. He was so nice, so wonderful with the kids, especially Lexi. I wanted them to realize that fire wasn’t always a bad thing, you know? But they accepted the visit so easily. Mac came over a few days ago and lit a fire and it was no big deal. I…I wonder if I’m the one with the problem.”

  “That’s okay. I mean, it’s expected. And the first part of conquering a problem is admitting you have a problem, right?” Mindy gently prodded. “So, that must’ve been some visit if you had Mister Hot Pants asking you out on a date.”

  Jane’s cheeks heated and she waved her hand as if dismissing the entire thing. “Stop it. He seems like a great guy. He’s also really handsome; I can’t deny that. But I think he’s just being nice, you know?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we ran into him at that little art fair last Saturday and he asked what I was doing this Friday night. Then he asked us to come here and offered to pay for our tickets.”

  “Sounds like a date with the kids to me.”

  “Well, kind of. Except he’s volunteering tonight.” She’d caught a glimpse of him working the room only a moment ago, a large silver pitcher clutched in his right hand, all smiles and friendly nods and full of hey neighbor greetings. Watching him serve drinks to everyone left her warm, a little giddy. “So really, it’s not a date. It’s just him being nice to the sad little widow and helping her during tough times. Getting her to come out and be social again.”

  “Oh, God, only you would tear down a man’s intentions and make yourself sound like a charity case. Honey, what if he actually is interested in you?”

  And with that question, Mindy had her. Okay, so maybe she wanted Christian Nelson to be interested in her. Because she was interested in him right back.

  So much easier, though, to think he’d made his offer out of kindness. Then she wouldn’t be disappointed when she realized he wasn’t interested.

  “No,” Jane finally answered with a quick shrug of her shoulders. “Okay, maybe? But I shouldn’t. Stephen hasn’t been gone that long.”

  “And what, you’re supposed to shut off and live like a nun for the rest of your life? It’s been two years, Jane. You’re only twenty-eight. And you’ve made it, despite the odds. I think that’s plenty of reason for you to live a little.”

  “By having a crush on a too-handsome man?” Jane’s nose wrin
kled and she glanced his way yet again. He was moving closer and closer to their table.

  “Ooh, so you really do like him.” Mindy grinned and hugged Sophia close, who squirmed in her aunt’s embrace. “That’s so cute!”

  “Keep it down.” Jane looked around yet again. “Listen, do you know anything about him at all? Does he go through women like wash rags or what?”

  “From what I’ve heard, he’s friendly, hardworking, and has to fight off all the women who go ga-ga over a guy in uniform.” Mindy winced. Truth hurts and all. “But he’s also supposed to be a complete workaholic who’s married to his job. He dates, but not for long.”

  “Where do you hear all this?”

  “Honey, this town is small and he’s still considered new here. Us natives like to speculate and gossip about the outsiders, especially when one is young, good-looking, and unattached.” Mindy rolled her eyes. “You know how it goes.”

  Jane stayed quiet, processing everything Mindy had revealed. Chris dated but he wasn’t serious about it. And he was married to his job. Her husband’s career as a headhunter for a large banking corporation had been the most important thing in his life too, and sometimes Jane had felt like he neglected her and their children. He did it for them, he’d always said. He needed to make sure his family was well taken care of.

  Never again would she sacrifice herself and her children for a man’s job. She hadn’t found fault in Stephen for too many things, but his lack of time for his family had always been an issue. If he knew his life would be cut so short, would he have devoted so much time to his career? Or would he have spent more time with his wife and children?

  “Well, I’m sure it’s completely farfetched to think he’d want to date me,” Jane said, nerves starting to clamor again in her stomach. Gosh, he was so close now she could practically feel him. And here she worried over Chris being a workaholic like Stephen, when what she really couldn’t forget was how dangerous his job was, too…

  “You never know,” Mindy said with a sly smile. “And here comes trouble now.”

  “Hey.” A warm hand touched her shoulder briefly and she knew without looking who that hand belonged to.

  Christian Nelson stood directly behind her. It still felt as if he touched her—he was so close—and Mindy stared up at him, a slightly dazed expression on her face.

  “Hi,” Jane said. She watched as he pulled out the empty chair next to her and sat on the edge, the shiny silver pitcher still clutched in his hand.

  “How are you?” he asked. “You get in okay? They didn’t hassle you, did they?”

  He looked good, extra good tonight for some reason. Noticing the touch of curl in his hair, the urge to run her fingers through it was so strong she clutched her hands in her lap.

  Dressed in his uniform, he wore a long-sleeved, snowy white thermal shirt beneath, and it clung to his muscular arms in a tantalizing way. A way that made her want to smooth her hands up his arms and feel every bunch and sinew flex beneath her fingertips.

  Oh yes, she had it bad. She needed to compose herself.

  “No hassles; we got right in.” Jane nodded in Mindy’s direction and Chris glanced her way. “This is my sister, Mindy.”

  “We’ve met,” Mindy said, shooting him a big smile. “Nice seeing you again.”

  “Where’s your husband tonight, Mindy?”

  Mindy’s eyes dimmed, her entire expression growing dark. “Working. Hey, I’ll get plates for the kids, get them settled. I’ll bring Sophia with me. We’ll be back in a few.”

  “Oh, Mindy, let me help you,” Jane started, but her sister shook her head as she stood, Sophia clutching her hand.

  “Stay here and relax. I’ll take care of them tonight. You have fun.”

  Jane watched her sister walk away, a hint of panic making her heart race. She was alone with Chris, no children to distract her, just the two of them, looking at each other.

  Well, just the two of them surrounded by approximately seventy-five local residents, but who was counting?

  “You haven’t eaten yet?”

  She shook her head and rested her hands on the table, making sure to cover her left with her right. “We just got here a few minutes ago.”

  “Ah, I didn’t see you walk in. I’ve been busy. Water maintenance.” He lifted the pitcher. “I’m still on duty but wanted to stop by and talk to you.”

  “Do you work all night?” It would be almost safer if he did have to work instead of sit with her and make small talk. Or pretend that they were on some sort of actual date.

  Because this definitely did not count as a date.

  “I’m finished in about a half hour. I helped set up, I’ve been here since four, and I’m beat. Plus, I’m starving.” He smiled and scooted his chair closer to hers. “You look pretty tonight, Jane.”

  A thrill moved through her at his words, the way he said her name. She’d taken extra care with her appearance that night, wanting to impress despite her doubts, and it appeared her effort hadn’t been in vain. “Thank you.”

  She clutched her hands atop the table, wringing her fingers together, and his gaze lingered there. “You have the smallest hands.”

  Ah, just what she hadn’t wanted to do—draw attention to her hands. But she may as well face reality. If she was going to spend any more time with him, then she needed to discuss what had happened to her. “I used to sew a lot. Before the accident.”

  “You did?”

  She nodded, suddenly feeling stupid for even bringing it up. He was a guy. He wouldn’t care about her old sewing hobby. “I even had a small business for a while. I made aprons and sold them.”

  He chuckled, though not as if he were laughing at her. More like she’d surprised him with her revelation. “Really? Women still wear aprons? I mean, no offense, but it seems kind of old-fashioned. Something my grandma might’ve done. I’m sure she still does, actually.”

  “See, that’s the thing. Our mothers came from the era of independent women going out into the workforce. For the most part, they looked down on those who stayed at home. But nowadays, women actually want to stay home with their kids, take care of their home and family. At least, most of the women in my old neighborhood did.”

  The majority of her friends back in San Jose had been stay-at-home moms, perfectly satisfied with taking care of their families. Thankful they didn’t have to be out in the rat race with everyone else. She’d been so grateful at first, able to be with the kids while Stephen worked. But she’d lost herself a little bit. No identity beyond being a mom and wife, with no larger purpose in life.

  “And so you made aprons for them?”

  “I did.” She laughed and shook her head. “It sounds silly, but I found these vintage fabrics and embellishments and made the cutest aprons. Fashionable, not the ugly types you find in department stores or Walmart or wherever. And now I’ll stop talking because I’m just rambling.”

  “No, you’re not.” He smiled, a sexy curve of lips that revealed straight, white teeth. Well, maybe not so straight. One top front tooth slightly overlapped the other, and she felt almost relieved to see that small flaw. Maybe he wasn’t as perfect as she thought. “Sounds like you were pretty passionate about it.”

  She was quiet, absorbing what he said. She wouldn’t normally choose passionate as a word to describe herself. She didn’t actually think anyone she knew would use that word in association with her.

  “I mean, you’re passionate about your kids. I saw that immediately.” He settled his hand next to hers and she watched, breathless, as he reached over and grabbed her hand. Her scarred left hand, the one she always hid. “But it’s nice to see you view yourself as not just a mother.”

  “What do you mean? I am a mother.” She could barely get the words out, what with the way he held her hand so very gently in his.

  “There’s more to you than just your children, though. You know?” He held their hands up in front of him, splaying his palm and fingers wide, which gave her no choice but t
o do the same. “All I see is a woman. Right now. With me.”

  His hand dwarfed hers, his fingers nearly twice as long, and the heat from his palm burned right through her, down to her toes. He rubbed their palms together, once, twice, before entwining her fingers with his own. Her body trembled at the intimate touch.

  Their gazes met, held. Electricity filled the air, arching between them. “Should you—”

  “Yeah. I need to get back to work. Can I sit with you when I’m finished? Will you wait for me?”

  “O-of course,” she stammered.

  “Let me go refill this pitcher and I’ll be back, make sure you all have some water to drink. I can send the iced tea guy over, too, if you want.”

  “I’m sure Mindy would like that.” How she could talk, let alone think, with him still clutching her hand, she didn’t know. But it felt so good. The simple gesture, the way his fingers curled around hers, the brush of his thumb on the inside of her wrist…

  That rather intimate touch sent goose bumps skittering up her arm and she thought it might’ve been by accident. But no, then he did it again. A slow, subtle sweep of his thumb against the pulse point at her wrist.

  She wanted to melt right there in her chair.

  Who knew having her wrist touched would feel so blessedly wonderful?

  Mindy chose that moment to show up at the table, standing across from them with a big grin on her face. She held three plates full of food, diner-waitress-style, with two of them stacked up her arm. She set them carefully on the table.

  Jane removed her hand from Chris’s and he stood, nodding toward Mindy. “I’ll be back in a few with water and iced tea.”

  “Oh, that sounds wonderful. I’m thirsty.” Mindy sat, Sophia right next to her. “I just told the kids to get their little behinds over here. Once they settle down, I’ll get more plates of food.”

  “Mindy…”

  “Stop it right there. You know you never get a break. In fact, I was thinking while I stood in line—why don’t I take the kids tomorrow night so you and Chris can do something, just the two of you? Maybe you could drive into Oakwood and see a movie.”

 

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