“All right.”
“Everything looks so elegant.” She smiled at him, temporarily forgetting about the storm as she surveyed the spread of food he’d prepared: egg-plant casserole with three kinds of melted cheese, crusty French bread, romaine lettuce with endive salad, and chilled minted pears.
“Thanks. I’ve been slaving over a hot stove all day,” he teased.
She could still feel where his touch had warmed her arm only a second ago—and fought off a new wash of desire. An hour earlier, she’d emerged from the shower and shrugged into a fresh T-shirt and her favorite black sweats while Austin set the table. It was obvious he’d gone to a great deal of trouble preparing this array of food. Though she still hadn’t any appetite, she would simply have to try to eat.
“You know, it wasn’t your turn to cook tonight,” she reminded him as they took their seats facing each other. Though they’d agreed to share the dinner preparations—after all, two could eat more economically than one—his usual fare was sandwiches or heated canned soup and crackers. Yet Austin had cooked lavish meals like this the past three consecutive nights. And here he was again, eager and attentive, grinning like a proud schoolboy.
“Cooking was no trouble at all,” he assured her. “But finding a tablecloth, now that was another story.”
“What do you mean?”
One corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile. “I had to improvise. I picked a sheet out of your bathroom linen closet—the sheet still in the wrapper.”
Her gaze dropped. Instantly she clapped her hand over her mouth at the sight of the floral pattern—a profusion of roses, mauves, and blue. She burst into laughter. “Oh, Austin, how clever! Of course, I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all. I don’t have a matching sheet for this one anyway.”
“I wanted to make tonight special,” he continued. “You know, do away with the usual place mat and paper napkin routine. And as far as the wine glasses go, that part was easy. I spotted that in your china hutch a couple of weeks ago when I was painting.”
“Oh!” A pang shot through her. She felt as if someone was sucking the air from her lungs. She hadn’t even noticed the crystal goblets filled with white wine.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. In the background, a blond news anchor was announcing the marriage of a famous sitcom actress.
Her voice was hushed. “The goblets were your wedding gift to us. The... the last time we used them was on our first anniversary.”
His mouth dropped open. He dipped his head in embarrassment. “Oh, no. I thought for some reason they looked familiar.” He suddenly stood up. “I’m sorry, Jo. What a stupid thing to do. Hold on. I’ll find something else.”
She fixed him with a meaningful look. “No. It’s all right now. These goblets were Kyle’s favorites.” She swallowed hard as her eyes misted over. “I think he would be pleased.” She hesitated. “Don’t you?”
For a long moment Austin didn’t answer, but instead sank back into his chair. A muscle in his jaw tensed. “Yes, I hope so.” Then he lifted the wine glass, meeting her gaze over the rim. “To Kyle.”
“Yes, to Kyle.” Her eyes delved into his. The candlelight glimmered, illuminating the angles and plans of his too handsome face.
They shared the next moments in silence, but all the while, she couldn’t deny her growing awareness of how powerfully his efforts had moved her. Elegant menu. The best white wine. His endearing attempts at procuring a tablecloth. And though the utilitarian white candle “centerpiece” looked like something he might have salvaged from the survival kit in his Jeep, she could’ve sworn it was the loveliest candle she’d ever seen.
“Italiano eggplant three cheese casserole is my forte’,” he announced, his tone lighter now. “You probably don’t know this, but in my other life, I was a famous vegetarian chef.”
“No, you don’t say.” She laughed giddily, allowing herself to indulge in this fleeting pleasure. All too soon she’d be sitting at this very table, solo again.
The thought snapped her back with a start. She hesitated, then shot him a direct look. “Why, Austin?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you doing all this?”
***
“I... I guess...” He shrugged with mock indifference. “Who knows? I always did sort of like to experiment in the kitchen.”
He took another gulp of wine, tasted its fruity tartness, then swallowed audibly. Yeah. Good question, he thought. He knew his answer had sounded lame. Was the real reason merely to take care of her for Kyle’s sake? Tempt her flagging appetite before she ended up getting sick? Or was it more... more than he was willing to admit to himself—or to her?
Outside, the wind blew harder, wailing like a lost child, nearly drowning out the voices on the TV. The chandelier above the table flickered, as did the Anchorhold screen. Then the candle flame sputtered, and in a split second, puffed out.
“Some emergency candle,” Austin said wryly. “I thought that wick looked a little too short.”
She hopped up from her chair. “No problem. I’ll go get more matches.” In a few minutes she’d returned.
He got to his feet also. “I’ll do that. You sit down and dig in before this food gets any colder.” Above all else, I want to take care of you.
***
She handed over the matches, then did as he’d said. Her headache had returned. The overhead chandelier was really much too bright. She’d have to do something about that soon. Change the light bulbs, perhaps look for a dimmer switch.
She stabbed a lettuce leaf, then took a small bite, but each time she chewed, her head throbbed more. “Have I missed anything on the news?” she asked.
“No—nothing more about the beach cleanup, if that’s what you mean.” He glanced down at his watch. “National coverage starts in forty minutes, so I’m sure we’ll hear an update before then.”
She released a long, slow breath. “It’s really a shame. After everyone’s hard work and planning, that the whole event could be called off.” Another chill rippled through her. It seemed every bone in her entire body ached too.
“Has it ever been canceled before?” Austin asked.
“Not that I know. Normally the cleanup takes place very fall and spring, rain or shine—though of course, unexpected storms always pose a threat.” She took a small sip of wine to moisten her dry throat, then continued, “I’m worried that if the cleanup is canceled altogether and there isn’t another one till next spring, that’ll put even more marine wildlife at risk.”
“Let’s assume everything will still be on,” he replied, biting in a chunk of eggplant. “The weather could change dramatically between now and tomorrow morning. And as for me, I’m hoping for clear skies so I can do some prep work on the roof before Grant Conner comes on Sunday.”
She struggled to conceal her disappointment. How presumptuous of her to think that just because he’d assisted her with publicity, he intended to help with the actual cleanup too.
He slathered a slice of French bread with butter and asked, “By the way, speaking of tomorrow morning, what time do you have to report in? And where?”
She forced a smile. “The official starting time is ten. I need to arrive around eight to set up the coordination site in the parking lot at Two Capes State Park. That’s the one where the kids from the Boy Scout camp will meet, so I expect it’s going to be especially busy.”
“And if the cleanup’s called off?”
“Then I’ll have to go anyway. It’s crucial that someone’s there to turn away the folks who might’ve missed the announcement.”
He must’ve noticed she had barely eaten her food, because he held his fork, in midair and asked, “What’s the matter, Jo?”
“Nothing.”
“I don’t believe that.” He studied her for a long moment. “You’re sick, aren’t you?”
“I’m fine.” She sighed again and slanted him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Austin. This is such a lovely meal. It’s just—
”
“You can’t fool me,” he said, rising suddenly, moving to her side of the table. He held his hand on her forehead. “I may be a vet, but I can also tell when a member of the human species isn’t well. You’re running a fever. And your skin is pallid. Off to bed. Off right now. I’ll get the aspirin and a glass of water.”
“No, that’s not necessary. It’s nothing more than a little cold.”
“Fine then. And the best cure for your little cold is bed rest. He scooped her up into his arms, his voice teasing, as he carried her away from the table. “Doctor’s orders.”
“No!” She struggled to get free, but he only clasped his arms more tightly around her. “Austin, please! Put me down. I’ll rest on the sofa. It’ll be better in no time.”
He raised one eyebrows. “And you’ll still take the aspirin?”
“Yes, Just put me down.”
“All right then.” His voice was firm, but gentle as he released her onto the thickly cushioned sofa and plumped up the oversize throw pillow behind her head and upper back. There. Comfortable?”
“Yes. Very.”
“Now just rest. I’ll get you some juice and a blanket too. I won’t be long.” He crossed the family room to the Anchorhold , adjusted the volume to low, then disappeared out of sight.
She sighed, knowing he was right. Judging from the intensity of her chills, her fever was getting higher. But why? Why on the eve of the cleanup?
She lay there, propped against the pillow, half reclining, feet drawn up. As she stared absently at a dark speck on the ceiling, she heard Austin’s footsteps retreating into the kitchen. Then came a thud as he opened a cupboard door, and the swish of running water at the kitchen sink.
She closed her eyes and lifted her fingertips to her temples in an attempt to still the pounding in her head. She had to admit it was nice having someone to pamper her right now. I seemed an eternity since she’d first found herself frightened and alone, then learned how to cope as a young widow—though barely. But Austin’s stay was only temporary—and so was this virus, or whatever she’d picked up. Meanwhile, why not let him bring her aspirin and juice and a cozy blanket? Why not take refuge in his comforting presence when outside the wind was howling even louder, the rain pelting harder, like the flood for which Noah had built the ark.
“Whoa!” Austin’s exclamation sounded from the laundry room, cutting through her muse. His deep laughter soon followed.
Her eyes flew open. “What happened?” she called. A blur of calico-colored fur whizzed in front of her, then vanished. Whatever it was, it must’ve startled the cat too.
Austin was still chuckling as he strode back into the room. “Does your cat always hide in the closet where you keep your extra blankets? I don’t know who was more surprised, the cat or me?”
Joanna giggled sleepily, then yawned. “After seeing Silky streak by a second ago, I’d venture to say she was. And no, the only time she hides out like that is when good-looking strange men are lurking close by.”
“Ah. So I see.” He grinned crookedly as he shook out the blanket and tucked it around her then helped her sit up while she swallowed the medication. What a relief. At least she’s still up to a little teasing, he struggled to reassure himself—but to no avail. Truth was, her skin felt even hotter than it had a few minutes ago and her eyes were now glazed with the fever.
“I’m so tired...” Her voice drifted off.
“Then sleep, Jo. I’ll be right here if you need anything else.”
Nodding, she closed her eyes.
He sat down on the empty spot at the end of the couch and hunched forward, his head in his hands. He’d heard a tough strain of flu would be prevalent this season, a flu that was often hard to lick and could lead to serious complications. If that’s what was ailing Joanna, he might need to stick around even longer than he’d first planned.
He looked up, stared ahead unseeingly, and dragged a hand through his hair. How in good conscience could he leave her alone if she was still sick? And if this storm didn’t let up and he couldn’t get started on the roof this weekend, then that spelled double trouble. Damn! He was getting more locked in with each passing day.
“And now for the update about the Oregon Coast beach cleanup,” the TV news announcer said, interrupting Austin’s anxious thoughts. He straightened. Joanna opened her eyes and raised up on one elbow, leaning forward. “Officials from the Oregon State Parks Department and the U.S. Coast Guard have determined—”
The room went silent. The lights flicked off.
“Oh, no...” Joanna moaned. “What else can go wrong?”
“Do you have an old transistor radio?” Austin asked. Except for the faint glow of the candle on the dining room table, everything was black. “Most likely we can get the announcement on the radio, too,” he added.
“I’m completely out of batteries. I meant to pick them up at the store, but I forgot.” She sat up. “Maybe I should go out and get some.”
“No, that’s ridiculous. Not in your condition. Besides, I don’t think it’s wise for either of us right now. There could be power lines down too. And you know what they said about the roads flooding.”
She yawned again, lying back down. There was no use arguing. His reminder made good sense. What was more, she’d almost fallen asleep.
She felt the sofa sag as he shifted his weight. “What about Trudy?” he asked. “She’s probably listening right now too. I bet the electricity’s still okay in her end of town. Maybe I should give her a call.”
“Good idea. Her number’s posted next to the kitchen phone. Probably wouldn’t hurt to call Aunt Marcella also and make sure everything’s all right. There are some tall evergreens growing close to her house. A wind like this could easily take one down.”
Sometime later—she was too drowsy to know exactly when—he’d returned from the kitchen where he’d tried to place the calls. “More bad news.” His voice barely penetrated her fog. “Your phone’s out also.”
“Hmmm...” She felt his hand on her forehead again.
He tucked the blanket more snugly around her. “No matter. No matter now,” he said in an infinitely tender voice. “Your fever’s coming down. That’s what’s most important now.”
He was near. Very near. Perhaps he’d drawn up a chair, or was sitting on the floor alongside her.
“’Night, Austin.”
“Rest well, Jo...”
She felt him stroke back her hair, his touch feather-light. Then he pressed her knuckles against his lips as she slipped into a warm, fuzzy sleep.
***
Joanna stretched stiffly and coughed. A ribbon of daylight fell beneath her bedroom curtains, showing the first traces of a soft gray dawn. It sounded as if the rain had stopped. Against her feet she felt a familiar cat size weight, and heard Silky’s purring.
She rolled over to one side. The digital clock flashed on and off. She blinked twice and looked down. She was still wearing her T-shirt and sweats. How did she get here? Hadn’t Austin left her last night bedded down on the couch? Wherever she’d slept, all she remembered was that she’d tossed restlessly all night long.
She felt exhausted. Drained. And though her headache had improved some, her muscles still ached. She coughed again, this time harder.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty!” Austin poked his head in through the opened door. He put on a broad smile that belied his gnawing concern. “I thought I heard you stirring.”
“Hi. When did you come back?”
As he took a couple of steps closer, Silky opened one cautious amber eye and held her gaze steadily on him.
“Actually, I never left,” he replied.
“Oh?”
“After you fell asleep on the couch, I sat there with you for a while, waiting to see what was going to happen with the weather. But you didn’t appear comfortable, so I carried you in here.”
“And you stayed here all night?”
He hesitated. “I... I didn’t want to leave you alo
ne. I slept on the sofa.”
She slid to the edge of the bed, planted her feet on the ground, but her knees felt wobbly. She started to sway. “W—what time is it? Are the phones working now? Have you tried to call Trudy?”
“It’s six-fifteen and time you got right back in bed. And yes, I phoned Trudy. Ted Ashelman too.”
“And?”
His hand was firm on her shoulder. “I’ll tell you after you get back into bed.”
“Oh, all right!” she huffed weakly. Why did he insist on bribing her like this? Couldn’t he see she was perfectly capable of resuming her normal activities?
Reluctantly, she crawled back beneath the covers. Austin sat on the side of the bed. An apparently annoyed Silky leapt down, then disappeared.
“The rain stopped shortly after midnight,” he explained, “so there was no flooding as previously expected. The winds died down around that time also.”
“So the beach cleanup’s still on?”
“Yes. According to Trudy, the announcement we missed last night said the decision would be postponed till the early morning hours. I’ve been listening to the radio since five, and the event is definitely going to happen.”
“Terrific!” Her spirits soared. “Didn’t you say it’s a little after six? That gives me less than two hours to get ready...
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jo.”
“But why not? I’m fine now. Perfectly fi—” She stopped short, coughing. This time the cough wracked her entire body.
He handed her a glass of water and she accepted it gratefully.
The coughing stopped.
“Listen, Jo,” Austin said, taking her hand in his, working his thumb gently across her palm. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’ve got everything under control. I told Trudy I’d man your coordination site and do all the other things you were supposed to do. Ted is going to help and he’ll fill me in on the details. He’s worked at other cleanups and was planning on pitching in anyway.”
She smiled at him, overcome with mixed emotions. Relief that the storm had stopped. Gratitude for his willingness to take over. And bitter disappointment that she would have to miss out.”
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