“We’ve finished scrubbing away the pulp,” Zeke explained. “Now we’re to the painting stage.”
“I’m ready. Where’s a brush?”
Within minutes, everyone, including Rosie, had a paintbrush in hand. Chad stood on a stepladder, painting the siding below the eave. Natalie was happy to see that her son was doing a fine job, using plenty of paint and going back over each section to catch all the drips. She wanted to compliment him on his work, but he’d been so prickly with her over the last few weeks that she feared he might take it wrong.
Zeke solved her dilemma by stepping back to survey the house. “Are you sure you’ve never done any painting, Chad?”
“Totally sure. My dad always hires this kind of stuff done.”
“You’re doing an excellent job,” Zeke observed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were an old hand. That’s union quality.”
“What’s union quality?” Rosie asked.
Zeke explained about the nationwide painters’ union. “The members are professional painters, and they usually get paid top-scale wages. If Chad put his mind to it, he could paint with the best of them.”
Chad shrugged off the compliment, but Natalie could tell that it actually meant a great deal to him. He stood taller on the ladder rung and became even more intent on his work.
“How does my job look?” Rosie demanded.
Zeke didn’t gush and shower the child with false praise as so many adults were inclined to do with a four-year-old. Instead, he crouched at Rosie’s side and carefully examined the patch of siding that she’d painted. Rosie waited solemnly to hear his verdict. Zeke borrowed her brush to smooth out some dribbles.
Finally he said, “Not bad, young lady. Not bad at all.”
It was praise enough to make Rosie happy, yet not so lavish as to steal any of Chad’s sunshine. Kudos. Zeke Coulter was a natural with kids. He was everything Natalie wished Robert could be: firm and exacting, yet patient as well, and always ready to encourage with praise when the children did something right. Chad was blossoming right before Natalie’s eyes, seeming to gain more confidence with each stroke of the brush.
This truly was good for him, she realized. Being around Zeke was bolstering the boy’s self-esteem in ways that Natalie couldn’t.
As noon approached, the sun moved high overhead, sending down a blanket of sweltering heat. Natalie was grateful for the overhang that covered the patio. Even in the shade, she was hot. Her mouth and throat were cottony with thirst, and she yearned for another glass of punch.
She was painting the drainpipe at the edge of the patio when Zeke approached and lightly touched her shoulder. Natalie straightened from her work to give him a questioning look. He braced a hand above her head and leaned close.
“We have company, and it’s not anyone I know.”
Natalie hadn’t heard a car pull up. She peeked around the corner of the house and nearly groaned when she saw her ex-mother-in-law, Grace Patterson, climbing out of a new silver Lexus. “Great. It’s Robert’s mother.”
Zeke arched a dark eyebrow. “Not one of your favorite people, I take it.”
“Perceptive of you.”
“She come around a lot?”
“Rarely, thank goodness.” Natalie sighed. “Something must be wrong.”
Zeke held out a hand for the paintbrush. “Go see what she wants. I’ll keep the kids occupied.”
Natalie rubbed her hands clean on her shirt as she crossed the gravel parking area. Even at sixty, Grace was a tall, slender, elegant blonde who carried herself with regal grace. In the early years of her marriage Natalie had trembled with nerves in Grace’s presence, ever fearful of doing or saying something gauche. Now she just braced herself for unpleasantness.
“Dear God,” Grace said when she saw Natalie’s clothes. “What are you doing over here?”
“Painting.” Natalie quickly explained about the vandalism. “Mr. Coulter kindly agreed to let me and Rosie help work off the damages so Chad will be done in time for camp.”
Grace got that haughty, ice-queen look that had once made Natalie cringe. “This won’t do. It won’t do at all.” The woman opened her purse. “How much do you owe the man?”
“I don’t want your money, Grace. It’s kind of you to offer, but no.”
“Don’t be absurd. You’re married to a wealthy and very important man. You can’t grub around over here, painting some stranger’s house.”
“Robert and I are divorced, remember?”
“There are still appearances to keep up. Working off the debt?” Grace shuddered delicately. “It’s so blue collar.”
Natalie gestured across the field at the house where she’d grown up. “I’m from blue-collar stock, Grace. Always have been, always will be.”
A look of distaste moved across the older woman’s perfectly made-up countenance. Grace had never liked any of Natalie’s relatives. Their connection to the Patterson family had always been a source of embarrassment to her. “You’re the mother of my grandchildren. You must set a proper example.”
“In my opinion, that’s exactly what I’m doing. Both my kids are learning what it means to take responsibility for their actions.”
Grace slipped the checkbook back into her handbag. “I didn’t come here to spar with you, Natalie.”
“Good. I’m tired.” Natalie tried a smile. “So, why have you come?”
“It’s Robert.”
Natalie noticed then that the older woman was trembling. “What’s he done now?” she asked resignedly.
Grace’s faded blue eyes filled with tears. “You’ve got to do something, Natalie. His behavior is so scandalous that people are starting to talk.”
Natalie translated that to mean that Robert’s sexual escapades were raising eyebrows at the country club. “I’m sorry to hear that, Grace, but there’s nothing I can do.”
“Go back to him! At least he tried to be discreet when he was married.”
Natalie thought of the countless nights she’d paced the floors, wondering where Robert was, only to have him come home at dawn, smelling of another woman. “He wasn’t discreet enough, I’m afraid. I’ll never live like that again.”
Grace hugged her Coach handbag to her chest. “It’s not as if he’s the first man on earth to stray. Smart women weather the storm.”
The storm, as Grace called it, had begun shortly after the wedding and had never stopped in almost eleven years. “I guess I’m not very smart.”
“I stopped by his house this morning, hoping to talk with him.” Grace got a calculating look in her eyes and leaned closer. “He was with that little tramp, Cheryl Steiner.”
The last Natalie had heard Robert had been dating a blonde named Bonnie Decker. Not that it mattered. His girlfriends were interchangeable, all of them young and voluptuous with bleached hair and room temperature IQs.
“I walked in and found them together in your bed,” Grace added, clearly expecting a horrified reaction.
The bed in question was a Patterson family heirloom, handed down to Robert by his father. Originally it had belonged to Helena Grant Patterson, Robert’s great-grandmother.
“It’s not my bed, Grace. It never really was.”
“The judge determined differently.”
Natalie couldn’t argue the point. Robert’s insistence during the divorce that all their assets be divided equally by a judge had ended just as he planned, with Natalie being fleeced financially, but it had also resulted in a chaotic misappropriation of possessions, with both of them being granted ownership of or interest in things that weren’t rightfully theirs. They had finally reached a settlement out of court, each of them forgoing all interest in the other’s family heirlooms and inheritances, nullifying Robert’s half interest in the Westfield farm, which Natalie had inherited from her grandmother during their marriage.
“Who owns the bed is beside the point.” Natalie folded her arms. “Robert and I are divorced. I no longer care what he does or with whom he
does it.”
“He’s shaming you!”
“No, he’s shaming himself. Robert’s choices are no longer my concern.”
“How can you say that? If nothing else, his actions reflect on the children.”
Natalie shook her head. “Chad and Rosie aren’t responsible for their father’s behavior, reprehensible as it may be.”
Grace dabbed at her cheeks with a tissue, taking care not to smudge her makeup. “When I walked in on them, Robert was furious and ordered me out of the house. He says I’m no longer welcome there without an invitation.”
Natalie’s heart caught at the pain she glimpsed in Grace’s eyes. Being a mother herself, she understood how that must have hurt. “Ah, Grace.”
“I’m his mother!” she cried. “After everything I’ve done for him, how could he treat me that way? And in front of that little tramp? It’s the last straw for me, Natalie. I was so furious. You just can’t imagine. If I’d had a gun, I would have shot him, I swear.”
Natalie patted the older woman’s shoulder. “You don’t mean that. Robert is your son. You’re angry right now, and with good reason, but it’ll pass.”
“No,” she said softly. “Not this time.” Hopeless bewilderment clouded her eyes. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”
Natalie had long since stopped trying to understand Robert. He could seem warm and compassionate and wonderful when it suited him, but beneath the surface, he was a shallow, selfish, and dishonest man who lived by his own set of rules. All veneer and no underlay was how Pop described him, and that pretty much said it all. Unfortunately, Natalie had been too young and naive at eighteen to realize that.
“I called my attorney on the way out here,” Grace said flatly. “I’m cutting him out of my will. When I die, everything will go to Chad.”
Eventually Robert would apologize, and his mother would forgive him. That was the way it always went. “I’m sorry you’re so upset, Grace, but this will blow over. You’ll see.”
“Not this time.” Grace squared her shoulders. “I’d like to tell my grandson that he’s just become my heir.”
Natalie had known Grace to use her money as leverage against Robert countless times, her goal always to jerk him back into line and make him toe the Patterson mark. She wasn’t about to let Chad get caught in the middle.
“No,” Natalie said firmly. “I’m sorry Robert has disappointed you, Grace, and I can understand your need to express your displeasure, but leave Chad out of it.”
“But it’s fabulous news for him!” Grace smiled tremulously. “He’ll be a very wealthy man someday.”
“You can tell him when he’s older. He has enough to deal with right now.”
“I would never tell him why I revised my will. Surely you know that.”
“I don’t want it mentioned to him at all. There’s enough negativity in his life right now.”
Grace finally nodded, albeit reluctantly. “If I promise to say nothing about it, will you at least let him come to visit me?”
A knot of anger formed in Natalie’s chest. In Grace’s eyes, Chad was more important than his sister because he was a male and would one day carry on the Patterson name. “What about Rosie?”
“Oh, her, too, of course.”
Never in Natalie’s life had she wanted so badly to deny a request. But she couldn’t, in good conscience, deny Chad and Rosie the opportunity to know their grandmother.
“Of course they can visit.”
“When?” Grace pressed.
“Anytime soon would be difficult. We’ll be busy working here until Chad goes to camp. He’ll get home only a few days before school starts.”
“In September, then?”
Natalie could only hope that Grace’s sudden bent to be a grandmother would pass. “Sure. September will work.”
“I’ll call ahead to make arrangements.”
Natalie nodded.
Grace wasn’t usually given to displays of affection, but she hugged Natalie now. “My son is a fool,” she whispered. “He’ll live to rue the day and beg you to come back to him, mark my words.” She patted Natalie’s back. “Ultimately, that would be best, you know. They’re Robert’s children. The two of you should raise them together.”
Hell would freeze over first. Natalie loosely returned Grace’s hug, but her heart wasn’t in it. Long after Grace had backed her Lexus from the driveway, she remained there, staring at the road. She jumped when Zeke’s deep voice sounded behind her.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Sweating under the hot burn of the sun, yet feeling oddly cold, she chafed her arms as she turned to face him. “Grace is pretty upset.”
“I heard.” He raked a big hand through his hair, leaving the sable strands furrowed by his fingers. “I just wonder at her reason for coming.”
“Her son is misbehaving. The only punitive measure within her power is to cut him out of her will. It’s a game they’ve played often over the years.” Natalie rubbed her sleeves again. “This time, she wanted to take it one step further by telling Chad that he’s now her sole heir. Up the stakes for Robert, so to speak, by making it official.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Grace’s parenting techniques are a blend of power and manipulation. If Robert thinks his son may inherit the fortune that’s rightfully his, maybe he’ll straighten up. If his wife will only go back to him, maybe he’ll be more discreet.” Natalie sighed. “When you haven’t worked to earn your children’s respect, it’s difficult to exert any control once they become adults.”
“Go back to him?” he echoed.
“When Robert and I were married, he sneaked around to see his girlfriends. Now he doesn’t bother. Grace’s friends are gossiping, and she’s mortified.”
Zeke’s gaze sharpened on hers. “Is there a possibility of that?”
“Of what?”
“Your going back to him.”
Natalie laughed bitterly. “Absolutely none. Why do you ask?”
Mischief danced in his blue eyes, and a smile flirted at one corner of his mouth. “Just curious.”
Natalie recognized masculine interest when she saw it. A shiver ran up her spine—a lovely, delicious little shiver—and for just an instant, she felt young and pretty and desirable. The moment didn’t last.
“I didn’t intentionally eavesdrop,” he assured her. “I took over painting the drainpipe, and some of the conversation carried to me on the breeze.” He arched a dark eyebrow, a gesture she was quickly coming to realize was a habit of his. “Did she mean it, do you think?”
“Which part?”
“That she would have shot him if she’d had a gun.”
Natalie chuckled. “Robert has that effect on people sometimes. She’ll get over it. She always does.”
He nodded, leading Natalie to wonder just how much of the exchange he had overheard. “I’m sorry she came over here,” she said. “Someone at the house must have told her where I was. Nothing like airing our dirty laundry in the neighbor’s driveway.”
“It isn’t your laundry.” He fixed her with a sympathetic gaze. “It’s a shame you’re still having to deal with it.”
“I’ll be dealing with it until my kids turn twenty-one, I’m afraid. Robert’s their father.”
He squinted against the sunlight, accentuating the crow’s-feet around his eyes, which, she guessed, had been etched there by exposure to the elements. Deep creases bracketed his lips, which shimmered like satin, the upper one thin, the lower one full yet firm.
Natalie found herself wondering how it might feel if he kissed her—to feel those big, hard hands moving over her—to be held close in his strong arms. When she realized the direction her thoughts had taken, she gave herself a hard mental shake.
She had enough problems in her life without asking for more, and Zeke Coulter had trouble written all over him.
Chapter Six
That evening, shortly after Natalie and the kids left for the day, Zeke found
a woman’s wristwatch lying next to the foundation of the house. Fascinated, he held it on his palm, studying the dainty band, the small stem, and the way the fading sunlight glinted off the crystal face. It was only a cheap Timex, and in places, the gold was wearing off. Nothing special. So why was he staring at it?
The answer was simple. It wasn’t the watch that intrigued him, but its owner. She was fascinating, coming off as a sexy seductress in sequins one time, as wholesome and sweet as apple pie the next. He enjoyed watching her in candid moments—the way she swayed while painting the house, as if she had music playing inside her head, the gentle manner she had with her children, always smiling at Rosie, looking bewildered and sometimes hurt when she interacted with Chad. She had soulful eyes, large, thickly lashed, and a deep, rich brown flecked with amber. They revealed her every emotion, filling with shadows when she felt sad, sparkling when she felt happy. Every time he looked into those eyes, he got the strangest feeling, a sense of connection and rightness that he’d never experienced before, not with anyone.
After checking the time, he slipped the piece of jewelry into his pocket. It was going on six o’clock. Natalie was probably rushing around to leave for work, and she’d probably feel lost without her watch. If he broke a leg, he might catch her before she took off.
As Zeke crossed the field, he saw an old farmer leaving the Westfield property by a back gate. Zeke waved and breathed deeply, taking in the pungent scent of alfalfa almost ready for a second cutting. Over the summer, he’d noticed that someone else was working Pete Westfield’s land, and he surmised that Pete’s back problem had forced him to lease out his fields, a common practice when a man couldn’t raise any crops himself.
At the edge of the field, Zeke lost his courage and almost went back home. This was stupid, a poorly veiled excuse to see Natalie again, bottom line, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. The lady had two kids and a crazy family. Did he really want to get involved with her?
Maybe his brothers were right, he decided, and he was way too serious about everything. A lot of men his age dated women who had kids, and practically everyone had a crazy relative or two. Natalie was a beautiful lady, both on and off the stage; he was strongly attracted to her, and he greatly enjoyed her company. If it felt right, why not go for it?
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