Part 5 (1/2)
She was being a complete fool, Kate knew, even considering such a thing, because she wasn't about to get involved with an out-of-work stranger who wouldn't even say how long he'd be in the area. Still, she couldn't keep the disappointment from coloring her tone as she said, ”I'm sorry, Sam. But it looks as if you came in this morning for nothing.”
”Oh, maybe not,” he drawled, and the long, slow inspection his gaze made of her said he had a good idea what was going through her mind. ”As long as I'm here, if you've got the time, you can show me the way to your sister and brother-in-law's. I still have to pick up my key.”
Fl.u.s.tered by his frankly approving look and the unexpected surge of electricity pa.s.sing between them, Kate lowered her gaze. ”Well, sure. That'll be fine. I have to go out to Cressie's, anyway.”
Doc cleared his throat and took a step toward the door. ”If I don't get over to the office, Bert'll have the place reeking with cigar smoke just to spite me. I'll let you know how I make out with the supply house, Kate.” Stopping on the top porch step, he turned to look at Sam, standing beside her in the doorway.
”You going to be doing much fis.h.i.+ng while you're here?” he asked.
”Some, maybe,” Sam replied.
”Hmm.” Doc studied him. ”You got business in the area?”
”No, sir.”
”No? Hmm. Well, then-”
”Sam's on vacation,” Kate said, hugging one side of the door frame with both hands and leaning forward to give Doc a meaningful look. ”And he doesn't need busybodies like you and me spoiling it with a bunch of questions. So why don't you go nag Bert to give up his cigars, and tell that supply clerk to deliver our order, like he promised three weeks ago, and let me get to work. I've got a million things to do.”
Doc frowned, then delivered his parting shot as he started down the steps. ”Sam, you watch out for this girl,” he said. ”She's a bossy one.”
”Oh, you-” Kate began, but her affectionate scolding was cut off by Sam's earthy chuckle.
”Don't worry,” he called after Doc. ”Katie already knows how poor I am at taking orders.” Then, with a slight pause, his voice dropped low to finish. ”Then again, I can think of some things I wouldn't mind her telling me to do. . . . No, I wouldn'tmind at all.”
His meaning was unmistakable, and her cheeks burned as she stared, unseeing, at the empty front walk. No man had ever made her such an obvious proposition-and on such short acquaintance. It was unnerving-and a little frightening. It was also wildly exciting. But for a woman who was used to thinking she inspired men's appet.i.tes, not their pa.s.sion, it was mostly confusing.
She felt his gaze upon her. She tried not to look at him as she turned, mumbling something about getting her shoes so they could leave. But her gaze skittered upward briefly, and then she was trapped, unable to look away from or to deny the hot message his clear gray eyes conveyed.
The rules had changed. Yesterday was a bad dream. Today she was at no disadvantage that would protect her from having to deal with this; he wanted her, and if she didn't want him, she was going to have to tell him so directly. But with her knees feeling so rubbery and a flush of sensual awareness curling through her, she couldn't utter a word.
”Get your shoes, Katie, and let's go,” Sam said softly. ”Ed Davenport tells me they're expecting another storm tonight, and I've got a window to fix.”
Four.
Kate spent the ride telling Sam about her sister and brother-in-law, who lived in an old farmhouse three miles east of Bourner's Crossing. She explained that Cressie-named Crescent by their romantic mother for having been conceived under a crescent moon-had met Steve when he was flying seaplanes on Lake Superior, using their father's marina as a port of call for his fishermen clientele. For various reasons, mostly Cressie's fear of flying, Steve had sold his two planes and taken a job with the National Forest Service. The money from the sale had bought the newlyweds two houses-a dilapidated farmhouse and a hunter's cabin -and they'd made enough improvements to live in the cabin for a year while the farmhouse was being renovated.
”Seems like a d.a.m.n shame,” Sam commented, pulling to a stop in the Fourniers' side yard.
”What does?” Kate asked.
”That a man would give up his planes for a two-room cabin and a rundown farm.”
Kate looked at him askance. ”I don't think that's quite the way Steve saw it. Besides, he never really gave up planes-at least, not to Cressie's satisfaction.” Climbing out of the Jeep, she reached into the back for her knapsack, then stopped, her eyebrows rising at the sound of Sam's muttered oath.
He was standing on the other side of the Jeep, staring toward the field beside the red barn, where a trim, single-en-gine airplane basked in the morning suns.h.i.+ne.
Kate's knowledge of planes could be stated in one sen-tence-they went up, and they came down- yet she knew there was something special about this particular old military plane, decked out in its camouflage paint with yellow tail and wing tips.
”I think it's called a T-34 Mentor,” she said.
Sam replied with an affirmative grunt. ”Right, but what's it doing in the middle of nowhere? There can't be more than a couple hundred of them in civilian hands.”
”Steve bought it at an auction,” she explained. ”He's spent the past year taking it apart and putting it back together, with a bigger engine and bigger fuel tanks and all sorts of updated instruments that cost a fortune. The plan was to make money selling it, but when he finished it, about a month ago, he told Cressie he wanted to fly it in air shows-and she just about went through the roof.”
Still looking at the plane, Sam shook his head slowly. ”If he's done as good a job on the inside as he has on the outside, that plane's worth a bundle.”
”Steve's had offers,” Kate admitted. ”In fact, I think he's considering one. Since he took a part-time job at Gibson's Garage, and since they've got a new baby, he doesn't have much time to fly. Besides, I think Cressie is wearing him down.”
Watching Sam's back, Kate saw his shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath. Then, abruptly, he turned away, walking around the front of the Jeep to take her knapsack from her.
”Thanks,” she said, and as they began walking toward the front of the house, she added, ”I should warn you about Francis.”
Sam glanced down at her. ”Francis who?”
”Cressie and Steve's two-year-old. He's deaf, and Cressie's a little-”
”Deaf?” Sam stopped in his tracks.
”Yes, and Cressie's sensitive about it, so-”
”What happened to him?”
She paused briefly to let him catch up; then, casting a glance toward the tall porch windows of the white frame house, she spoke quietly. ”About eight months ago, he had a viral infection. It didn't seem like anything too unusual-just a bad stomach thing-but it left him deaf.”
Sam's hand shot out to stop her when she started up the front steps. ”Can't they fix it?”
”Nerve deafness is permanent,” she answered, her voice heavy with regret. ”There isn't a specialist in the world who could do anything about it.” She started up the steps again, whispering over her shoulder, ”Cressie gets nervous sometimes, in front of strangers, so I thought I ought to warn you. Just in case.”
Cressie met them at the front door, and Kate saw Sam's gaze slide from her sister to her and back again several times, taking note that Cressie looked very much like her, but for having short hair and being a half-dozen years younger. Cressie had been expecting them, but not together, and Kate's explanation of the day before led to Sam's apology for the broken window and his a.s.surance that it would be fixed that afternoon. Cressie wasn't worried about the window; she was too upset over Kate's being hurt, and she showered Sam with grat.i.tude as she ushered them into the living room and gave him his key.
They stood talking in the large, toy-cluttered room until a small, rosy-cheeked face appeared around the edge of the doorway to the foyer. Kate saw Francis first, and she opened her arms to him with a smile as he came running toward her.
Scooping him up, she planted a kiss on the top of his curly blond head. ”How's my sweetheart?” she asked, chuckling. ”And how are you and your new sister getting along?”
”Not too well, I'm afraid,” Cressie answered, her gaze darting nervously from the little boy to Sam.
Kate noted Cressie's discomfort but decided the best plan was to ignore it. ”Oh? How come?” she asked.
”He doesn't understand why I can't just put April down whenever he wants me to play with him. And it's so frustrating, not being able to explain it to him. I suppose I should try, but I just don't know how, or what good it would do, when he can't-”
”Has he held her yet?” Kate asked.
Cressie's expression became horrified. ”Oh, no! I mean, I don't think he should.” Hesitantly, she added, ”Do you?”
”Sure,” Kate replied easily as Francis snuggled in her arms. ”He'll need help, of course. But I'm sure he'd be tickled to hold her. It would make him feel important-like you trusted him.”