“Sounds nice, though,” Erica said.
“All done,” Hannah announced as she came out the back door, followed closely by the apricot poodle.
“Hands,” Erica said. Hannah held up her hands for inspection. “Good. And your face looks all clean, too.”
Hannah nodded. “I scrubbed real good.”
“Then why don’t you tell Mr. McMann good-night and I’ll tuck you in,” Erica said.
“I want Mr. Man to tuck me in.”
Tension immediately wafted from Caleb.
“Hannah…we don’t want to bother…”
“It’s no bother,” Caleb said, interrupting Erica’s protest as he stood. “I’d be delighted to tuck in the lovely Miss Hannah.”
Hannah giggled, her miniature features radiating hero worship as she gazed at Caleb. She held out her hand for him to grasp and together man and child headed for the back door; Erica followed just behind.
She tried not to feel any embarrassment as they walked through the living room, where her bedding from the night before was still on the sofa. She didn’t owe anyone any explanations for where she slept in her own home, she told herself firmly.
Hannah had the largest of the two bedrooms and Erica was pleased that the small window-unit air-conditioner made the room comfortable. The room was like a burst of sunshine. Yellow curtains hung at the window and a matching spread covered the bed. Lined up against one wall a variety of stuffed animals watched with button eyes as Caleb pulled down the bedspread.
Erica stopped in the doorway and motioned Peaches to her doggy bed in the corner.
“First you have to say good-night to Harry,” Hannah explained as she crawled into bed and beneath the sheet.
“Harry?”
“Harry the hamster,” Erica said, and gestured to the cage on the dresser.
“Ah.” Caleb walked over to the dresser and peered into the cage. “Good evening, Harry. You’re a fine-looking fellow.”
“He likes to run on his wheel at night,” Hannah said.
Caleb nodded. “Yes, I’ve heard only the smartest hamsters do that.” He walked back to the side of the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. “Okay…arms in or out?” he asked.
“Out.” Hannah placed her arms on top of the sheet.
“Do you usually get a bedtime story?” Caleb asked.
“No, but if you know a good one you could tell it to me.”
“Hannah…” Erica said with a warning.
“No bedtime story,” Hannah replied with a sigh.
“Good, because I’d have had to make one up,” Caleb replied.
Erica smiled, wondering what kind of story Caleb McMann would have produced. She imagined he’d be quite creative, and equally amusing.
“Good night, Hannah.” He stood and leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.
“’Night, Mr. Man. Good night, Mommy,” Hannah replied, her eyes already drifting closed.
Caleb joined Erica in the doorway. He threaded his fingers through his hair and for just a moment Erica thought his hand trembled. His eyes appeared darker than usual as he looked back at Hannah. “Is she asleep already?”
Erica nodded. “She’s always done that. She plays hard and sleeps hard. When sleep hits, it’s like a switch has turned her off. Bedtime has never really been a problem.”
Suddenly Erica was aware of how close Caleb stood to her. She was aware of a provocative warmth that smelled of virile male. His nearness seemed to be drawing in all the oxygen, making breathing more difficult for her.
For a moment, Erica had an insane desire to lean against him and feel his arms wrap around her and hold her close.
What a pleasure it would be to feel for just a moment the support of another. She stepped out of the doorway and away from him. “Thank you for tucking her in,” she said briskly as they entered the living room.
“No problem. She’s a terrific kid.”
To her dismay, he shoved aside the blue-flowered sheet on the sofa and sat down, apparently in no hurry to leave. To her bigger dismay was the knowledge that she wasn’t in any hurry for him to leave, either.
Caleb had been doing very well with Hannah. He’d enjoyed seeing her little garden, listening to her childish tales and he hadn’t once experienced the abiding ache of loss.
And then she’d asked him to tuck her in. The simple act of putting her to bed and kissing her forehead had brought forth memories of a hundred different nights when he’d tucked Katie in. Her warm little arms encircling his neck, her sleepy breath against his throat…those moments before sleep had been precious to both father and daughter.
For just a moment, he’d wanted to run from Hannah’s room, indulge the tears that burned hot at his eyes, give in to the familiar clutches of crippling grief.
But, he hadn’t. And the need to escape had passed. Maybe he was getting stronger. He desperately hoped so. Katie wouldn’t have wanted him destroyed by grief. She’d always thought he was big and strong, and he desperately wanted to be strong.
Caleb wasn’t sure what he was doing now, lingering here. Hannah was in bed. There was really no reason for him to remain, and yet he was reluctant to leave. He wasn’t ready to return to the big house with its overwhelming quiet.
Besides, in the past hour or so he’d felt a thawing in Erica, a lessening of the reserve that surrounded her like an impenetrable barrier. He found himself more and more drawn to the woman beneath the veneer.
He’d believed he’d never be interested in another woman again after Judith had passed away. And for the past six years since her death there had been no other female in his life other than his daughter.
“Would you like some coffee?” she asked.
“Sure, if it isn’t too much trouble.” He was pleased by the offer, a further indication that she was thawing out a bit.
“No trouble.” Her face flushed slightly as she quickly grabbed up the sheet and bed pillow. “Sorry…I wasn’t expecting company.”
“Hey, don’t apologize.” He gestured to the ceiling fan that was stirring the warm air in the room. “I’m sure it’s cooler in here with the fan.”
She nodded, placed the bedding on a nearby chair, then disappeared into the kitchen.
Caleb looked around the room with interest. He’d always believed you could tell a lot about a person by the things they surrounded themselves with in their home.
Erica was obviously a woman who shunned clutter. There were no knickknacks, no collectibles gathering dust on the end tables or in the built-in bookcase. He wanted to believe that this was because she was a woman who valued intangibles rather than physical possessions.
The bookcase held several thick medical tomes, framed pictures of Hannah and a container of computer disks. It was obvious Hannah was Erica’s world. Caleb knew how easy it was to build a life around a child. He’d done the same thing with Katie after Judith’s death.
The sofa and matching chairs were a dark beige, with accent stripes in dark green and burgundy. Nice, although a relatively inexpensive brand, he noted. He remembered the investigator’s report, of overwhelming medical bills and a hand-to-mouth existence for them.
“Here we are,” Erica said as she reentered the room carrying a tray laden with coffee mugs. “You take yours black, right?”
“Right.” He jumped up and took the tray from her and sat it down on the table in front of the sofa. He grabbed a cup and held it out to her. As she took it from him, their fingers brushed, and he thought he felt a slight tremor in hers. Maybe she wasn’t quite as immune to him as she would have him think.
The heart he’d thought dead and buried lurched inside him and suddenly began to pump in an erratic rhythm. He grabbed the remaining coffee mug from the tray and sank back down on the sofa as she sat in a chair facing him. His attraction to her confused him.
“How’s the work coming on your house?” she asked.
“Fine…although the workmen have really just barely scratched the surface. The house w
as in pretty bad shape.” He tried not to notice the length of her tanned legs, the thrust of her breasts against the snug, pale blue T-shirt she wore.
“It’s been empty for as long as Hannah and I have lived here.”
“And how long is that?”
“Almost a year.
“And before here?”
She took a sip of her coffee, then replied. “Several apartments around town.”
“Are you from the St. Louis area originally?” Caleb felt as if they were drowning in inane chatter. What he really wanted to know was if she tasted as good as she smelled, if her eyes would darken to midnight blue when he kissed her.
He had no idea where these sort of thoughts were coming from.
“Born and raised here,” she replied.
“You have family?” He remembered the momentary wistfulness he’d heard in her tone when she’d asked him about his family.
“My father left our family when I was twelve and I haven’t seen or heard from him since. My mother passed away before Hannah was born. I have a brother here in town, but we aren’t really close.”
“That’s too bad. Nothing better than family to help get you through the hard times.”
She tilted her head, her long curtain of hair falling to one side. “It must have been tough, losing your wife. Was it an accident?” she asked tentatively, as if afraid of intruding on his privacy.
“No. Judith had cancer. She was ill for quite some time before finally succumbing to the disease.” Although Caleb felt a sense of sadness, he’d long ago grieved for the spouse he had lost. Now, it was like the ache of a dear friend’s absence.
“Long-term illnesses are so difficult,” Erica said. Her eyes peered at him intently, as if not only looking at him, but into him. “Didn’t you ever think of leaving her? Getting away from the pain?”
He looked at her in surprise. “It never crossed my mind. I wanted to be with her…I needed to be with her…to comfort her until she breathed her last breath and was no longer with me on this earth.”
Sudden tears shimmered in her eyes, making him wonder what experiences she’d had with her ex-husband and with Hannah’s illness. But he couldn’t very well ask her, since she didn’t know he knew about Hannah’s heart problems. In any case, the tears were gone with a blink of her eyes.
“She was a very lucky woman,” she said softly.
He smiled and shook his head. “No, I was a very lucky man. We had three wonderful years together before she got sick. And even the bad times had moments of joy.” He consciously willed away the memory of the promise he’d made to Judith on her deathbed…the promise he hadn’t been able to keep.
He cleared his throat. “We’re getting rather maudlin here.”
“Yes, we are. I’m sorry.” She smiled apologetically. Silence fell between them, an uncomfortable silence as they each strained for something to say.
“So, when…” she began.
“I guess…” he said at the same time. They laughed self-consciously. “You first,” he prompted.
“I was just going to ask how long it takes to build a tree house.”
“It should be finished up in a week or so…depending on the weather.”
“According to the weather forecast, that shouldn’t be a problem. I heard it’s supposed to stay unseasonably hot and humid.” She frowned, as if dreading the days to come.
“I guess this is what they refer to as the dog days of summer.”
She laughed. “Not hardly. If you think this is bad…wait until August. That’s when we experience the dog days. It gets so thick, so sweltering it’s difficult to draw breath.” She frowned, and he guessed she was imagining this little house cooking in the August heat without the pleasure of air-conditioning.
I’ll probably be gone by August, Caleb thought. His plan had always been to stay in St. Louis a couple of weeks…perhaps a month, make sure that all was well with Hannah Clemmons, then he’d return to his penthouse apartment in Chicago.
“Now, what were you going to say?” she asked.
He finished his coffee with a quick swallow, then set the cup back on the tray. “I was going to say that I guess it’s time for me to head back home.” He stood, reluctant to leave, confused by his desire to remain, to learn more about Erica.
Erica walked him to the back door and together they stepped out into the night shadows that had fallen. “Thanks for the coffee,” he said.
She smiled up at him. “Thanks for the lemonade,” she returned.
He wanted to kiss her. All he’d have to do was take a single step forward and dip his head and he could claim her lips with his own. His desire had nothing to do with his need to know Hannah. It was all about Erica.
He took the step forward, his desire swelling when she didn’t retreat. Instead, she tilted her head slightly back, as if anticipating…and welcoming his kiss.
What are you doing, McMann? a little voice whispered inside his head. Was it possible that this was really about Hannah? Was it possible he needed so badly for just a little while to be a part of Hannah’s life that he was manufacturing some sort of desire for Hannah’s mother?
Truthfully, he wasn’t sure. If so, then kissing Erica wasn’t fair to her and it wasn’t fair to him.
He took a step backward and instead of kissing her, he reached up and lightly touched her cheek with the tip of his fingers. “Good night, Erica.”
“’Night, Caleb.”
He turned and hurried home. When he reached the fence, he hopped over it, then went into the house and directly to the phone.
On the pad next to the phone was a number and he quickly punched it in.
It wasn’t fair to kiss Erica when he didn’t know for sure what motivated him. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t do something to make things easier on both her and Hannah.
“Hello?” A deep, male voice answered the phone at the other end of the line.
“Mr. Brown? Stanley Brown? You don’t know me, but I have a proposition for you,” Caleb began.
Chapter 4
“Cheapskate Stanley is paying for a central-air unit?” Sherry stared at Erica in utter amazement. “Is he on heavy medication? Has he had a lobotomy?”
Erica laughed. “I don’t know what got into him, but yesterday the men from Walters Furnace and Air Conditioning showed up to see what they needed to do to install a complete unit.”
The two women, along with Hannah, sat in a booth in Reggie’s Restaurant, a small neighborhood establishment that offered reasonable prices and an atmosphere conducive to relaxed conversation.
“All I know,” Erica continued, “is that I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.” She leaned back against the cracked blue leather seat. “It will be glorious to have a house that’s cool throughout…to get to sleep in my own bed instead of on the sofa.”
“I still don’t get it.” Sherry popped a French fry into her mouth. “Stanley has bucked and kicked at every dollar you’ve asked him to spend on repairs on that house and now suddenly he’s popping for an entire air-conditioning unit.”
“Mr. Man is building me a tree house,” Hannah told Sherry.
“Mr. Man?” Sherry looked first at Hannah, then at Erica. “Who is Mr. Man?”
“Caleb McMann. He bought the big house next door. He’s building a big tree house for Hannah in the tree in his backyard.” Erica focused her gaze down on her plate, her cheeks warming slightly at the thought of Caleb.
“Really.” Sherry drew the word into three long syllables. Erica looked up to see her friend’s blond eyebrows raised in speculation. “Soooo…single or married? Prince or a toad?”
“Single. And not a prince or a toad. Just a man,” Erica replied. She wished Hannah had never brought up the topic of Caleb McMann. Now Sherry would chew on it like a dog with a rawhide bone.
“I like him,” Hannah exclaimed. “He has daddy eyes.”
Sherry’s brows nearly shot off the top of her forehead. “Indeed? Daddy eyes, huh? And wha
t exactly are ‘daddy eyes’?”
Hannah grinned, delighted at having Sherry’s undivided attention. “Nice, with little blue sparkles. They look just like a daddy’s eyes are supposed to look.”
Erica sighed and once again gazed at what remained of her hamburger, ignoring Sherry’s obvious amusement. She picked up a fry. “He’s just a neighbor,” she repeated with a slight edge of irritation.
“He brung us donuts.”
“Brought, doll face,” Sherry corrected Hannah. “He brought you donuts?”
“Don’t make a big deal out of this, Sherry.” Erica pointed the fry at her friend like a gun. “Trust me, it’s not a big deal.”
For the last five days Erica had gone out of her way to make sure that Caleb’s friendliness didn’t become a big deal. She’d stayed in the house, remained unavailable for any more friendly chatter.
The weathermen had been wrong in their forecast, and for the past five days rain had darkened the skies. The wet weather had provided a perfect reason to keep Hannah playing inside in the cool of her room instead of in the backyard.
No way did she intend to be drawn into any kind of a relationship with Caleb McMann, or any member of the male species.
“So tell me what you’re working on,” she asked Sherry. “What kind of story is Lois Lane trying to crack open?”
Sherry grinned at her knowingly. “Not particularly smooth. But I get the hint and will now change the subject.” She popped another fry. “Corruption in the lunch room at Winthrop High School. There is supposed to be a gang stealing lunch money from students.”
“Sounds interesting,” Erica said, trying desperately to keep her thoughts off of her handsome new neighbor.
Sherry leaned forward. “We have an opening at the paper for another reporter. Why don’t you apply for it?”
“I can’t do that,” Erica replied.
“Why not?” Sherry demanded. “Erica, things are going well now.” She reached over and tousled Hannah’s hair. “This little doll face is healthier than she’s ever been in her life. You know Keith and Amy would baby-sit whenever you needed them to. Isn’t it time for you to get on with your own life?”
In a Heartbeat Page 5