“What’s that?” she asked, dropping the change in her coin purse.
“That you have dinner with me.”
Her first inclination was to refuse. She wasn’t interested in dating and hadn’t been in months. She’d told him as much. She wasn’t ready to get involved in a relationship, not even with a man who was a tourist and who’d be out of her life in a few weeks. Besides, he was a stranger. Other than his name and a few other details, what did she know about him?
He must have seen the doubt in her eyes.
“You choose the time and place and I’ll meet you there,” he suggested. “You’re wise to be cautious.”
Still she hesitated.
“I promise I won’t stand you up the way Todd did.”
“Tony,” she corrected. “And that’s not exactly—” She stopped, amused and frustrated that she found herself wanting to defend Tony.
“One dinner,” Chase added. “All right?”
Lesley sighed, feeling herself weakening. If she declined, she’d be stuck watching Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks in her sweats in front of the TV—and probably gobbling ice cream straight from the container, despite the pie she’d just had. The image wasn’t a pretty one.
“All right,” she said, with a decisiveness she didn’t feel. “Six o’clock, at Salty’s at Redondo Beach.”
“I’ll make reservations.”
“No,” she said quickly. “Not Salty’s.” That had been her and Tony’s restaurant. “Let’s try the Seattle waterfront. I’ll meet you in front of the aquarium at six and we can find someplace to eat around there.”
His smile touched his eyes as he nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Two
Chase Goodman stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. He’d turned on the television and was standing in the bathroom doorway listening to snippets of news while he dried his hair.
He dressed in slacks and a crisp blue shirt, hoping Lesley didn’t expect him to wear a tie. Gray slacks and a decent dress shirt was as good as he got. A regular tie felt like a hangman’s noose and he’d look silly in a bow tie. He didn’t usually worry about what a woman thought of his appearance, but he liked Lesley.
That was the problem. He liked her, really liked her. The hollow feeling hadn’t left his stomach since the moment they’d parted. It was the kind of sensation a man gets when he knows something’s about to happen, something important. Something good.
He liked that she was tall and not the least bit apologetic about it. He preferred a woman he didn’t have to worry about hurting every time he held her. His size intimidated a lot of women, but obviously not Lesley. She had grit, too; it wasn’t every woman who’d race after a mugger.
Objectively, he supposed, Lesley wasn’t stunningly beautiful nor did she have perfect features. Her face was a little too square, and her hair a dusty blond. Not quite brown and not quite fair, but somewhere in between. Maybe it wasn’t the conventional pale blond most guys went for, but it reminded him of the color of the midnight sun at dusk.
Her eyes appealed to him, too. He couldn’t remember seeing a darker shade of brown, almost as dark as his own.
Chase was physically attracted to Lesley and the strength of that attraction took him by surprise. It confused and unsettled him. He’d come to Seattle to find himself a wife, had gone about it in a direct and straightforward manner. You couldn’t get more direct than renting a billboard! And yet he’d met Lesley by complete chance. Not only that, his billboard clearly hadn’t impressed her, he thought wryly.
Nonetheless, he wanted to develop a relationship with Lesley, but he was worried. Lesley was vulnerable and hurting just now. If he romanced her, even convinced her to marry him, he’d never be certain he hadn’t taken advantage of her and her battered heart. Even worse, she might feel he had. Regardless, nothing could dampen his anticipation of their evening together. That was all he wanted. One evening, and then he’d be better able to judge. Afterward he could decide what he was going to do. If anything.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Chase reached for the TV remote and turned up the volume, hoping the newscaster would take his mind off the woman who attracted him so strongly. Not that it was likely. Not with that swift emotional kick he’d felt the minute he saw her.
* * *
“Hiya, doll,” Daisy Sullivan said, letting herself into Lesley’s place after knocking a couple of times. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Daisy lived in the house adjacent to Lesley’s rental and had become one of her best friends.
“Sit down,” Lesley said, aiming an earring toward her left ear. “Do you want some iced tea?”
“Sure, but I’ll get it.” Lesley watched as her neighbor walked into the kitchen and took two glasses from the cupboard. She poured them each some tea from the pitcher in the fridge. “I’m glad to see you’re going out,” Daisy said, handing Lesley one of them. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to spend this evening alone.”
Lesley felt warmed at this evidence that someone had remembered today’s significance. “The date slipped by Jo Ann and Lori.”
“So what are you doing? Taking yourself out to dinner?” Daisy was nothing if not direct. Her neighbor didn’t have time to waste being subtle. She attended computer classes during the day and worked weekends as a cocktail waitress. Lesley admired her friend for taking control of her life, for getting out of a rotten marriage and struggling to do what was right for herself and her two boys.
Her neighbor was a little rough around the edges, maybe a little too honest and direct, but she was one heck of a friend. Besides school and a job, she was a good mom to Kevin and Eric. Daisy’s mother watched the boys during the daytime now that school was out, but it wasn’t an ideal situation. The boys, seven and eight, were a handful. A teenage girl from the neighborhood filled in on the nights Daisy worked; Lesley occasionally helped out, as well.
“How does this dress look?” Lesley asked, ignoring Daisy’s question. She twirled to give Daisy a look at the simple blue-and-white-patterned dress. The skirt flared out at the knees as she spun around.
“New?” Daisy asked, helping herself to a few seedless red grapes from the fruit bowl on the table. She held one delicately between manicured nails and popped it into her mouth.
“Relatively new,” Lesley said, glancing away. “I’ve got a date.”
“A real date?”
“Yes, I met him this afternoon. I was mugged and Chase—that’s his name—caught the thief for me.”
“In other words, Chase chased him.”
“Exactly.” She smiled at Daisy’s small joke.
“You sure you can trust this guy?”
Lesley took a moment to analyze what she knew about Chase Goodman. Her impression was of strength, eyes that smiled, a gentle, fun-loving spirit. He was six-four, possibly taller, his chest was wide and his shoulders were broad. Despite his size, he ran with efficiency and speed. Her overall impression of Chase was of total, unequivocal masculinity. The type of man who worked hard, lived hard and loved hard.
Her cheeks flushed with color at the thought of Chase in bed.…
“I can trust him,” Lesley answered. It was herself she needed to question. If she was still in love with Tony, she shouldn’t be attracted to Chase, but she was. She barely knew the man, yet she felt completely safe with him, completely at ease. She must, otherwise she wouldn’t have blurted out the humiliating details of her broken engagement. She’d never done that with anyone else.
“I’m meeting Chase at the Seattle aquarium at six,” Lesley elaborated.
“Hmm. Sounds like he might be hero material,” Daisy said, reaching for another cluster of grapes after she stood. “I’ve got to get dinner on for the boys. Let me know how everything goes, will you? I’ll be up late studying, so if the light’s on, let yourself in.”
“I will,” Lesley promised.
“Have fun,” Daisy said on her way out the door.
That was something Lesley intende
d to do.
* * *
At 6:10, Lesley was standing outside the waterfront aquarium waiting. She checked her watch every fifteen seconds until she saw Chase coming toward her, walking down the hill, his steps hurried. When he saw her, he raised his hand and waved.
Relief flooded through Lesley. The restless sensation in the pit of her stomach subsided and her doubts fled.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, after dashing across the busy intersection. “I had a problem finding a place to park.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Lesley said, and it didn’t now that he was here. Now that he was grinning at her in a way she found irresistible.
He smiled down at her and said in a low, caressing voice, “You look nice.”
“Thank you. You do, too.”
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“A little. How about you?” Pedestrian traffic was heavy and by tacit agreement, they moved to a small fountain and sat on a park bench. She didn’t explain that her appetite had been practically nonexistent ever since she’d lost Tony.
“Some, but I’ve never been to the waterfront before,” Chase said. “Would you mind if we played tourist for a while?”
“I’d like it. Every year I make a point of bringing my class down here. They love the aquarium and the fact that some of the world’s largest octopuses live in Elliott Bay. The kids are fascinated by them.”
They stood and Chase reached for her hand, entwining their fingers. It felt oddly comfortable to be linked to him. They began to walk, their progress slowed by the crowds.
“Other than the aquarium, my kids’ favorite stop is Pier 54,” she said.
“What’s on Pier 54?”
“A long row of tourist shops. Or in other words, one of the world’s largest collections of junk and tacky souvenirs.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“To third-graders it’s heaven. Imagine what their parents think when the children come home carrying a plastic shrunken head with Seattle stamped across it. I shouldn’t be so flippant—it’s not all like that. There’s some interesting Northwest Indian and Eskimo art on display, if you want to walk there.”
“Sure. Isn’t that the ferry terminal?” he asked, pointing toward a large structure beyond the souvenir shops.
“Yes. The Washington State Ferries terminal. Did you know we have the largest ferry system in the world? If you’re looking for a little peace and some beautiful scenery, hop on a ferry. For a while after Tony told me about April, I used to come down here and take the Wins low ferry over to Bainbridge Island. There’s something about being on the water that soothed me.”
“Would you take a ferry with me sometime?” Chase asked.
“I’d like that very much,” she replied. His hand squeezed hers and she congratulated herself on how even she managed to keep her voice. Countless times over the past few months she’d ridden the ferry, sat with a cup of coffee or stood on the deck. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was about being on the water that she found so peaceful, but it helped more than anything else.
They walked along the pier and in and out of several of the tourist shops, chatting as they went. It’d been a long time since Lesley had laughed so easily or so often and it felt wonderful.
As they strolled past the ferry terminal, Lesley asked, “Have you been to Pioneer Square? There’s a fabulous restaurant close by if Italian food interests you.”
“Great!”
“I’ll tell you all about Pioneer Square while we eat, then,” Lesley said, leading the way. The restaurant was busy, but they were seated after a ten-minute wait.
No sooner were they handed menus than a basket of warm bread appeared, along with a relish tray, overflowing with fresh vegetables and a variety of black and green olives.
“Pioneer Square is actually the oldest part of Seattle,” Lesley explained, somewhat conscious of sounding like a teacher in front of her class—or maybe a tour guide. “It was originally an Indian village, and later a rowdy frontier settlement and gold rush town.”
“What’s all the business about mail-order brides?” Chase asked while dipping a thick slice of the bread in olive oil and balsamic vinegar.
“You heard about that?”
“I wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for a TV documentary I saw. I only caught the end of it, though.”
“The brides are a historical fact. Back in the 1860s, Seattle had a severe shortage of women. To solve the problem, a well-intentioned gentleman by the name of Asa Mercer traveled East and recruited a number of New England women to come to Seattle. These weren’t ladies of the night, either, but enterprising souls who were well-educated, cultured and refined. The ideal type of woman to settle the wild frontier.”
“What would Asa Mercer have said to induce these women to give up the comforts of civilization? How’d he get them to agree to travel to the Wild West?” Chase asked, setting aside his bread and focusing his full attention on her.
“It might surprise you to know he didn’t have the least bit of difficulty convincing these women. First, there was a real shortage of marriageable men due to the Civil War. Many of these women were facing spinsterhood. Asa Mercer’s proposition might well have been their only chance of finding a husband.”
“I see.”
Lesley didn’t understand his frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he was quick to assure her. “Go on, tell me what happened.”
“The first women landed at the waterfront on May 16, 1864. I remember the day because May 16 is my birthday. Seattle was a riproaring town and I imagine these women must’ve wondered what they were letting themselves in for. But it didn’t take them long to settle in and bring touches of civilization to Seattle. They did such a good job that two years later a second group of brides was imported.”
“They all got married, then?”
“All but one,” Lesley told him. “Lizzie Ordway. Eventually she became the superintendent of public schools and a women’s activist. It was because of her and other women like her that Washington State granted women the right to vote a full ten years ahead of the constitutional amendment.”
“Now you’re the one who’s frowning,” Chase commented.
“I was just thinking that… I don’t know,” she said, feeling foolish.
“What were you thinking?” Chase asked gently.
She didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to voice the fears that gnawed at her. That she was afraid she’d end up like Lizzie, unmarried and alone. These few details were all Lesley knew about the woman’s life. She wondered if Lizzie had found fulfillment in the women’s suffrage movement. If she’d found contentment as a spinster, when her friends had married one by one until she was the only one left. The only one who hadn’t been able to find a husband.
“Lesley?” Chase prompted.
“It’s nothing,” Lesley said, forcing herself to smile.
The waiter came just then, to Lesley’s relief, and they ordered. Their dinner was wonderful, but she’d expected nothing less from this restaurant.
Afterward, they caught the streetcar and returned to the waterfront. On the short ride, Lesley regaled Chase with the history of the vintage streetcars, which had been brought from Australia.
“This is Tasmanian mahogany?” Chase repeated.
“And white ash.”
“I’m impressed by how well you know Seattle’s history,” Chase said when they climbed off the streetcar.
“I’m a teacher, remember?”
Chase grinned and it was a sexy, make-your-knees-weak sort of smile. “I was just wondering why they didn’t have anyone as beautiful as you when I was in school. I only ever seemed to have stereotypical old-maid teachers.”
Lesley laughed, although his words struck close to home. Too close for comfort.
“How about taking that ferry ride?” Chase suggested next.
“Sure.” Lesley was game as long as it meant their evening wouldn’t end. She didn’t want it to be
over so soon, especially since she’d done most of the talking. There were a number of questions she wanted to ask Chase about Alaska. Normally Lesley didn’t dominate a conversation this way, but Chase had seemed genuinely interested.
As luck would have it, the Winslow Ferry was docked and they walked right on. While Lesley found them a table, Chase ordered two lattes.
He slid into the seat across from her and handed her the paper cup. Lesley carefully pried open the lid.
“I’ve been doing all the talking,” she said, leaning back. “What can you tell me about Alaska?”
“Plenty,” he murmured. “Did you know Alaska has the westernmost and easternmost spots in the country?”
“No,” Lesley admitted, squinting while she tried to figure out how that was possible. She guessed it had to do with the sweep of islands that stretched nearly to the Asian coastline.
“We’ve got incredible mountains, too. Seventeen of the twenty highest mountains in the entire United States are in Alaska.”
“I love mountains. When we’re finished with our drinks, let’s stand out on the deck. I want to show you the Olympics. They’re so beautiful with their jagged peaks, especially at this time of night, just before the sun sets.”
A short while later they went onto the windswept deck and walked over to the railing. The sun touched the snowcapped peaks, and a pale pink sky, filled with splashes of gold, spilled across the skyline.
“It’s a beautiful night,” Lesley said, holding on to the railing. The scent of the water was fresh and stimulating. The wind blew wildly around her, disarranging her hair. She tried several times to anchor it behind her ears, but the force of the wind was too strong.
Chase stood behind her in an effort to block the gusts. He slipped his arms around her shoulders and rested his jaw against the top of her head.
Lesley felt warm and protected in the shelter of his arms. There was a feeling of exquisite peace about being in this place with this man, on this day. This stranger had helped her more in the few hours they’d been together than all the wisdom and counsel her family and friends had issued in months.
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