Dreams Don't Wait (Contemporary romance) (4 page)

"This wasn't something you cooked up with Caressa?" he asked.

"Are you paranoid or what?" She barely restrained herself from belting him again. "I barely know her. I met her three months ago when she joined my reading group."

"Reading group? Caressa? Hah!" His distrustful frown returned "Tell me another one. Besides, she told me she'd known you for years."

"For some reason the poor, misguided woman thought she was doing me a favor." She rubbed at her wrist. "Boy, was she wrong. This kind of favor, I
don't
need." She turned toward the door. "I'm out of here."

"Wait."

Her hand was on the doorknob.

"Just a minute," he added.

She turned as he took a step away from the bed. He used two fingers to rub distractedly at his right temple. "If what you say is true..."

She straightened, turned the doorknob, and gave him a murderous stare.

"Wait. One damn minute, will you? I didn't mean that." He held up a hand. "I'm... sorry. It's just that..." He stopped as if considering what else to say, how far to go.

As far as Evan was concerned, he didn't look one bit sorry. He looked petulant. Yes, that was it. Like a boy forced to make an apology to a girl after he'd gleefully put a frog down her dress. It was obvious apologies didn't come easy to him. But she was enjoying his discomfort. He deserved every minute of it. She waited.

"It's just that, well, I thought you were another of Caressa's attempts to... She swore you weren't... but I didn't believe her. You wouldn't, either if you knew her better," he added with a touch of belligerence.

"Run that by me again. Caressa's attempts to what?"

He sucked in a fortifying breath and raked a hand through his hair. He looked as though he'd just swigged sour milk. "Attempts to—as Caressa puts it—find me the right woman."

"Caressa is trying to fix you up?" Instantly intrigued, Evan's hand came off the knob.

He scowled at her. "That's a charming way to put it."

"We're long past being charming."

He rubbed his cheek. "Yeah, I guess so."

Evan was unrepentant. "Not that I can't see why you'd need help in that department... being fixed up, I mean." She smiled sweetly to spike the barb. "But why me? I'm hardly in the market for a husband—or child," she added.
That's about the last thing I want. I might never have had a husband, but I've been a mother over half my life. My time is coming and I plan to live it—alone.

"Does my meddling sister know that?"

"Probably not. We like each other, but we haven't exactly reached the heart-to-heart stage."

"She hasn't been, uh, promoting me then?"

"She told me you were bossy, quick-tempered, distrustful, and rude. Does that count?"

He smiled grimly. "Reverse psychology?"

"Not as I see it."

When the silence between them advanced to awkward, Evan again reached for the doorknob. "Look, your love life, or lack of it, is endlessly fascinating, but it's getting late. If I'm going to find a place to stay tonight, I'd better get going."

She was nearly out the door when he spoke.

"The door to your room is down the hall, Evan. That one"—he nodded in the direction of the adjoining door—"locks from your side. Now that we understand each other, maybe we can start over. I still need someone to fill in for Maud, and you still want the cabin. Right?"

She hesitated, gave him an openly dubious look. "You honestly think we can salvage a working relationship out of a tasteless pass and a hard right to the jaw?"

"We can try." He offered his hand.

She looked at it; at the long fingers, wide palm, deeply furrowed line of fate. Wordlessly she slipped her hand into his. Sensation and heat eddied up her arm with a swiftness that caught her off guard. She reclaimed her hand. It wasn't so easy to reclaim her calm. Avoiding his eyes, she opened the door. "I hope this works," she muttered, half to herself, half to him, as she stepped through the door.

"It will. And I promise no more
tasteless
passes," he said, closing the door.

Chapter 2

Evan caught glimpses of Linc throughout the rest of the day, but they never spoke. He kept busy with the endless procession of trades people, while she, unable to get her own house in order, helped Maud organize Linc's. Jenny trailed after Cal with the diligence of a trained hound. And while Cal didn't quite know what to do with her, he was male enough to respond to female adoration even if it did come in a too-small package. Right now, at Jenny's insistence, they were off touring her playhouse.

"What about this, Maud?" Evan held up a large serving plate. They were emptying the last of the boxes in the kitchen.

"Can you reach the top shelf? Anywhere up there will be fine," Maud replied, stuffing paper back into an empty carton. She stood, rubbing her lower back. "I'm for a cup of coffee. What about you?"

"Sounds good." Evan stepped down from the chair she was standing on and turned to smile at the older woman. She liked Maud, admired her air of quiet sophistication. It struck Evan as odd that Maud was here, housekeeping and baby-sitting for Linc Stewart. Somehow, she didn't seem like an employee. "And I'll make the coffee," she volunteered, heading for the cluttered counter. "You sit for a while. You haven't stopped moving since I got here this morning."

"And thank heaven you did. You've been such a wonderful help. I don't know how I'd have managed without you." Maud took a chair near the window, sinking into it with a grateful sigh as Evan set about making the coffee. "I've been meaning to ask, did Lincoln explain why you're needed here?"

"Not in any great detail. Just that he wanted someone to back you up in case you need to leave unexpectedly."

Maud leaned forward. "It's my mother. She's ninety-three years old and, I'm afraid, nearing the end of her days."

"I'm sorry. It must be difficult for you." Evan sometimes wondered if her own mother was still alive. There was no one to tell her one way or the other, and after sixteen years she hadn't heart to look for her—only to be rejected. Again. Nor did she want that for Cal.

"Thank you. But we—my sister and I—are prepared for it. As is Mother. She lives with Marion about an hour's drive from here. Now that Lincoln, Jenny, and I are back in Victoria, I'd like to spend two or three nights a week with her, if I can. Lincoln is usually home for Jenny, so it shouldn't be a problem. It's only when he's away or has a meeting you'll be needed. It shouldn't pose much of a hardship. We'll try to give you as much notice as possible, dear, so your own plans won't be disrupted."

"That's good of you, but I'll probably be here every night anyway. I don't go out much."

"No beau?"

"No beau," she said, amused by Maud's word choice. "Cal and me. That's the whole package."

Maud's expression turned serious. "He's a wonderful boy, Evan. So grown-up for his age. You must be proud."

"I am. Very. I was so young when I had Cal. He's had to grow up fast, like his mother."

The expression in the older woman's eyes made Evan stop talking. "I know that look, Maud, sympathetic, maybe even a little sad, but neither Cal nor I need sympathy. We've made it through, and from now on, there's no way to go but up." Evan went over and handed her a steaming mug of coffee. "First, Cal goes to college, then I'll..."

"Go on."

"I'll do whatever I want." Evan decided she'd shared enough confidences for one day. Besides, didn't her simple answer say it all?

"And do you know what that is?"

"More or less." She didn't mean to be evasive, but she'd dreamed about "her time," as she'd come to call it, for so long, she rarely tempted fate by talking about it. Scary to think it was as close as next year. No way did she want to blow it.

Maud gave her a thoughtful look and sipped her coffee.

"Yo, Mom." Cal came in the kitchen door, Jenny in tow. "This place is
wild.
Mr. Stewart has five cars—count 'em, five, and"—he gave a full-house grin—"a Harley. He doesn't even ride it," he added with amazed disbelief. "And you should see Jen's place. She's got this cool little house her dad built for her. It's got four rooms. And he had it shipped here all the way from—where was it again?" He glanced at Jenny.

"Paris, London," Jenny answered with a note of importance.

Cal chuckled. "Yeah. Right."

Evan looked down at Jenny. The girl's grin was as wide as Cal's. "You can live there if you want," she said to him, obviously delighted at the prospect of giving her hero his heart's desire. Cal lifted his brows at his mom.

"It's okay, Jen. You keep it, but I'll come and visit you sometime, okay?" he said.

"Tomorrow?" Jenny was not about to let him off the hook.

"Yeah, tomorrow." Cal's attention made a rapid shift. "Mom, I'm, uh..." He stopped uncertainly and looked nervously at Maud. She smiled.

"Hungry, unless I miss my guess." Maud rose from her chair, looking at her watch as she did so. "It's almost six for heaven's sake. Want to help?"

"Sure, Mrs. Cahane. What can I do?"

"You can call me Maud to start with,
Mister
Calvin North, and you can get me the ground beef from the fridge. I think I can rustle up some burgers at least."

"You got it," he said.

"Never mind, Cal," a deep voice said from the doorway. "We're going out to eat. Maud's done enough for today. I was thinking Chinese."

At the sound of her father's voice, Jenny piped up, "Pizza, Daddy. I want pizza." Linc gave his daughter a smile that took Evan's breath away and held out his arms. Jenny leaped into them and he swung her high. "If you want pizza, darlin', pizza it will be."

* * *

Three hours later they were back at the house. Evan was in shock; Maud was exhausted; and Cal was disgusted. That left two people who seemed to think everything was perfectly normal.

"I'm for bed," Maud said the minute they were in the house. "Come on, Jenny. Let's go."

"I don't want to," Jenny protested, clutching her father around the neck. "I'm not tired."

"Of course you are, darling." Linc set her on her feet. "It's after nine. Go along with Maud now."

Maud took the little girl's hand and started her up the stairs, and gave Evan an odd look.
Some message in it. Like, be careful.
Evan glanced up at Linc and was surprised to find him looking at her, his expression thoughtful.

"Thanks for dinner. It was a pleasant evening," she lied.

"No further comment?" he asked. His look was brooding, distrustful.

She tilted her head in a question. "Comment? About what?" she asked, straining to appear innocent.

"About how I choose to raise my child."

"She's your daughter. If you want to indulge her, that's your business."

Her answer didn't seem to appease him. "Spoil her, you mean." He looked angry now. "That's what you're thinking, isn't it? That Jenny is spoiled and willful."

Evan's glance fell to study the newly laid carpet. If she were to criticize Jenny's behavior or Linc's child-rearing techniques—or lack of them—it could cost her the cabin.

"I'm tired. How about we talk about this another time?"
Or better yet, never.

"No. We'll talk about it now. I watched you tonight." He gave her a hard stare. "You don't like Jenny."

"Don't like..." Evan was stunned. When she found her voice, she went on. "Jenny is a beautiful, bright child. It is not about
liking
her."

"What is it about then?"

She wasn't going to escape this. He wasn't going to let her. God, she'd been in the house less than twenty-four hours, and she'd already had two arguments with the man. Not a good omen. She couldn't understand it. She never fought with anyone. She chose her next words carefully.

"It's a question of child-rearing, uh, philosophy." Good girl, she told herself, pleased that she'd found exactly the right phrase.

"Bull! That remark leaves you treading water. I want to know how you feel about Jenny."

"I told you. I like Jenny. It would be impossible not to."