Homecoming (10 page)

“Someone younger, prettier, richer.”

“Just like that.”

“Just like that. He moved to Los Angeles, in fact, the day the divorce was final. I was glad, in a way. I guess I knew I wasn’t...content. But, for a long time I thought we had a good thing going. I was wrong...stupid—”

“No,” he interrupted, taking one of her hands in his. “Naive, maybe...fooled, maybe. He just wasn’t the right one for you, Cory. You’ll find the right guy, and you’ll know it when you do. Tell me about nursing. By the sounds of it, it must be a good fit for you.”

Relieved at the change of subject, Cory recounted her love for her profession; that she’d thrived for a while in the fast pace of the ER, then worked to specialize in palliative and end-of-life care. He listened intently, asking lots of intelligent and probing questions. He seemed pleased to know she was able to bring relief and comfort to Tillie’s last days, that his great-aunt had been safer and more comfortable with her there.

When the record was over, this time it was Jake who pulled the needle up and flipped through the box of records on the floor.

“This one,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her. “And this time, you
will
meet me on the dance floor, madam.”

Cory shook her head, but could see he wasn’t going to let her off so easily. So, she’d step on his feet a few times and prove to him she was no Paula Abdul, or, in this case, Ginger Rogers.

There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats.

Albert Schweitzer

Chapter 6

“I’m giving you a final warning, Jake Randall, that I was born with two left feet. Any bruising of toes will not be on my conscience.” She stayed in her spot on the couch, looking up at him when he returned to her.

“You must have danced at your own wedding, Cory. What’s the big deal?”

“Actually...no.” She looked away from him for a moment, then looked back, holding his gaze. “There wasn’t time to plan a big wedding. We were both so busy; Ed was studying all the time and I couldn’t get much time off work.”

“Courthouse wedding?” He knew so little about her “Ed” but he disliked him more and more.

“We got married in the campus chapel.” She tilted her chin up in defiance, showing him that—at least on the surface—she didn’t care.

He was in sensitive territory. Sacred female territory. “Still, it must have been...nice.”

Her eyes darkened before she spoke, as though she were considering whether she was going to take the conversation further or run for cover.

“It was fine. The expense of a big wedding didn’t fit our budget at the time.”

“Tell me you at least took time off for a honeymoon.”

Her lips flattened into a thin line. “We were going to take a trip after he passed the bar, but...”

He watched as her eyes moistened, just a little. “Tahiti, like you always wanted?” He remembered a long ago conversation of places they’d each dreamed of going—she’d dreamed of island paradises while he leaned more toward primitive places, Alaska or the Australian outback.

A sad smile formed, and she shook her head no. “One night at Lake Geneva in a cabin that belonged to a friend. It was a disaster. When we walked in—”

“Wait...no carrying you over the threshold? Didn’t this guy understand tradition? A pox on both his houses!”

She rewarded him with a laugh and dancing eyes, looking as if a little bit of the pressure had been relieved.

“As I was saying, when we walked in there was a dreadful smell. We found a dead squirrel in the middle of the bed upstairs. I should have seen it as a sign.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, he took a seat next to her. “Not a good start to any marriage. Regrets?”

“Just about not seeing the writing on the wall until the letters were two feet high. I don’t know...it seemed like things were okay. I was working a lot of hours. For a while, I thought it was my fault. I was never there—”

“No. It takes two people working hard at a marriage to make it work.”

“Thanks.”

“Like I said before, he just wasn’t the right one. Now you’re a woman in the prime of your life who merely needs to learn to dance in order to lure a prince to your arms. Follow me.” As soon as Jake said the words and saw the flare in Cory’s eyes, he wished he’d chosen different ones. He kept his own expression neutral, wondering if she had any idea how much her eyes revealed her emotions, now more than ever.

After she’d stood, he reached for her left hand and placed it on his shoulder, then wrapped his arm around her, putting his hand high on her back so their embrace was just close enough but not too intimate. Her touch on him was light, barely even there. What was she afraid of? It was true they’d never shared a dance, even in their youth, but, by the tremble he felt run through her body, she seemed terrified. Of the dance...or him?

“Okay,” he said, dropping his hand away from her and forcing their bodies apart. “Why don’t we concentrate on the rhythm first.”

She nodded, relief shining in her eyes.

“Listen for the beats. One...two...one-two. Slow, slow, quick-quick. Hear it?” He watched as she closed her eyes, tipped her head and listened to the music. He studied her face. There hadn’t been many opportunities so far; each time she’d caught him staring at her, her brows would knit together and he’d felt a fool. Now, he took his time.

Her long lashes fluttered above flushed cheeks and he realized, now that she didn’t wear glasses, her eyes had become his favorite feature. With no lenses to hide behind, her serious brown eyes drew him to her. In the rare moments she did let her guard down, her eyes sparkled. But mostly, she always seemed to be deep in thought, and circumspect. The walls she’d constructed were high, but he was confident there was a way through. But when had it become so important for him to find a way through the barriers she’d built?

Cory’s hair began to swing as she moved to the music and he wanted to reach out and run his fingers through the long reddish-brown waves so different than the cropped curls of her youth. No. The silk of her hair belonged to whoever would steal her heart. Was that someone living in Faythe, just waiting to meet her?

As his fingers neared her hair, he saw her eyelids flutter. Quickly he dropped his hand, furious with himself for letting the music and the moment carry him away. He was just going to teach her a few swing dance steps. That was it.

“Okay, I hear it. What’s next?”

“Watch my feet.” He demonstrated for her until she began to mimic his steps with faltering steps of her own. Her hair hung forward and hid her face as she concentrated on her feet.

Before she could protest, he took each of her hands in his own, keeping some space between them as he encouraged her to move around the floor just a little. All the while she kept her gaze downward. The lamplight in the small parlor bounced off her shiny hair like crimson sunbeams. He leaned his head just a little closer in, close enough to smell her flowery scent.
Jeez—what did she do to smell so good, bathe in lilacs?

“I’m getting it, aren’t I?” She lifted her head and promptly bumped against his chin. “Sorry—”

“No, my fault. But you’re feet are no longer your only lethal weapons, I’m sad to say.” He ignored her as she rolled her eyes, easing her left hand to his shoulder and finding a place for his hand high on her back. It felt wonderful. Too wonderful. She stumbled a little just as the thought completed itself in his own head, about the same time the record ended.

“I’ll put another one on before your feet forget what to do,” he said, throwing a grin her way.

Cory jammed a strand of hair behind her ears, then fanned her face with her hand. Was it getting hotter? Maybe it was just the increased humidity that had come with the storm.

“This is another slower one, so it will be good to practice to.”

Before she could object she was back in his arms and counting steps in her head, focusing her attention on her feet instead of the warmth of his hand on her back.

The next song was a more simple rhythm and they slipped into a normal slow dance, and she felt much more confident just moving her feet back and forth, following his lead.

They were silent throughout the dance, and at the end he lowered her into a dip until the ends of her hair brushed the polished wooden floor.

Then he kissed her.

She saw it coming, but by the time her brain engaged, she was physically and mentally off-balance, looking up into his twinkling eyes, totally in his control.

Warm full lips brushed against hers in a soft breath of a kiss. Instantly, the memory of long ago kisses bolted through her, kisses where it had been she who had pulled him closer to deepen a kiss, when her entire world consisted of the closeness of him.

She felt him tense, and he pulled her up straight and released his hold on her.

His shoulders gave a little twitch and he gazed at her with a half bland smile. She felt the heat rise from the core of her, ending in her cheeks.

“Thank you, madam, for the dance. You’re a good student. Shall we try one more?”

Was he blushing? Before she could be sure, he turned away to select another record. He was ignoring what had happened, making it pretty obvious he didn’t feel anything. And she shouldn’t either. He’d probably kissed half the women in Chicago by now. One innocent little kiss between them meant nothing.

Before he turned around she brought her fingers to her lips; they were still warm and moist. Get a grip. It was a little, harmless, nothing kiss.

A kiss she hadn’t wanted to end.

When he spun around she had already made it halfway to the door. “Enough of this lollygagging, kind sir. Your student needs to get the breakfast and lunch dishes done and dinner in the oven. And, I forgot that I promised Sara I’d stop by. She’s home with the baby and bored out of her mind. She’s got a stack of books reserved at the library she’s waiting for me to deliver.” With a wave, she was out the door and down the hall.

As he watched her disappear down the hall, Jake brought a hand to his stomach and pushed. His gut was beginning to be a regular problem, though it only seemed to bother him when he was around Cory. Had it been his imagination that she’d begun to kiss him back? What was he thinking kissing her anyway? The look in her eyes had confused him; not quite surprised, definitely not unwilling.

He needed to get himself back under control. No more dance lessons. No more Cory in his arms.

***

Sara answered the door with her fingers at her lips to quiet Cory; they hugged and Cory followed her into the quaint craftsman style house.

“Molly’s asleep, but she’ll be up soon so you can see her. Oh, you brought books, thank God. I thought I was going to go nuts. I can only watch so much television before my brain checks out.”

Cory followed Sara into the kitchen and sat at the table while she watched her friend make a fresh pot of tea. “Yorkshire Gold okay?”

Cory nodded. “So, everything’s going well?”

“I can’t believe how good I feel. I was so glad to get home. It was nice being pampered, and Ted’s mom is great, but I was ready to sleep in my own bed, you know? I finally encouraged Ted to at least go back to work part-time. I think he was a little relieved—this baby stuff is all new to him and I don’t think he liked not being perfect at it right away.”

“I bet he’s a good father already.” Cory added honey and a dash of cream to her tea, then took a sip.

“He’s a natural. I was a little surprised, actually, because he never was around little kids or anything. How’s it going with the hunk? Anything juicy happening?”

Cory choked on her tea, covering her mouth as she coughed until she got the liquid out of the wrong pipe.

“You okay? Looks like I’ve already touched a nerve. What’s going on?”

“I’m not quite sure. We’re getting along fine, each doing our chores. He’s his normal charming self—things were humming along nicely, everything under control...until today.”

“Spill it before I choke you myself.” Sara leaned on the table with both elbows, cradling a delicate, rose-patterned tea cup in her hands.

“Well, he kissed me.”

“Kissed...or
kissed
?”

“You are so predictable, Sara. Okay, on a scale of one to ten, a one. Definitely a one. Maybe a two.”

“If it was a one, you wouldn’t be blushing and fidgeting with your spoon. Do you feel differently about him than the last time we talked?”

“God, I don’t know. It’s so great having him around. I’m finding myself staring at him and hoping we run into each other in the hallway in the middle of the night—”

“Dreams?”

Cory nodded.

“PG or R-rated.”

Cory glared back her answer.

“So, I’ll draw my own conclusions then.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Cory searched for answers in her friend’s eyes. Sara had it all; a job she loved, faithful and loving husband, cozy home, and now Molly. But it was clear Sara and Ted were two of a kind. They had everything in common, and they wanted the same things, nothing like Jake and her. And, most importantly, they both loved Faythe and everything the small town had to offer. Jake was a bona fide city boy who couldn’t wait to see Faythe in his rear view mirror.