Jane's Gift

by Abby Gaines

  The crazy blaring of a car horn ended the kiss.

  Jane and Kyle sprang apart to see a Chevy truck shoot by, heading toward Frisco, the driver’s fist pumping out the window.

  “Anyone you know?” Jane tried to sound casual, as if that hadn’t been the best kiss of her life. She tucked her blouse back in her jeans, firmly, so her hands wouldn’t shake from unfulfilled desire.

  “Just a spectator, I guess.” Kyle was watching her movements, making her feel self-conscious. But he didn’t seem inclined to look away. “Jane...” He paused, forcing her to look up at him. “That was amazing.”

  Too amazing. Too good to be true.

  “It’s been a weird day,” she said. “An emotional one. I don’t think we should read too much into one kiss.”

  “We could do it again,” he said. “See if maybe it wasn’t a one-off.”

  She wanted to with a hunger that scared her. She took a step backward. “I don’t think so.” She glanced at her watch. “Hey, look, we’d better get back. Daisy will be finishing school soon.”

  The wry twist of his mouth said he wasn’t buying her lack of interest. But he strode back to the truck, held her door open for her.

  Jane kept her eyes firmly on the road for the remainder of the trip. She tried to ignore the way her lips burned for more of Kyle’s mouth.

  She should never have admitted to the existence of a spark.

  As any Coloradan knew, a spark was how forest fires started.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  DUE TO STOPPING for a make-out session at the side of the highway, they arrived back in Pinyon Ridge barely in time to collect Daisy from school.

  “I’ll get her.” Jane had her door open almost before Kyle stopped the car. He didn’t argue, since the parking lot was crowded and he needed to wait for a space.

  Besides, he needed some space himself to process what had just happened.

  Not even when he’d entertained thoughts about getting Jane out of those pajamas had it occurred to him that kissing her would be so damn hot. That unbelievable kiss had come out of nowhere.

  He didn’t know what the hell he should do about it. He knew what he wanted to do, he thought, as he watched Jane walking briskly through the stream of parents and children coming the other way.

  He wanted to do it again, but this time on a bed, and see what happened next.

  But that might not be the smartest idea. As Jane had said, they were in an unnatural situation. She’s Daisy’s biological mother, she’s living with me, she’s wearing those pj’s. Any guy facing those complications could get the wrong idea about what he really wanted.

  She’d asked him outright if he’d been attracted to her before, and he’d answered honestly. No. So if she’d still been just plain Jane Slater—not that there was anything plain about her—Lissa’s friend with the sleazy family, but no other connection, would he be attracted to her now?

  He would have liked to answer a glib no, but he couldn’t be sure.

  Besides, all those complications did exist. And they weren’t going anywhere.

  * * *

  CHARLES REVELED IN the familiarity of his granddaughter’s birthday party on Friday afternoon. The whole occasion was a balm to his increasingly, inexplicably tormented soul. The Happy Birthday banner Patti had painted when the boys were young, which still came out every year to be hung between the dining area and living room of Kyle’s cottage. The smell of frosting and candles. The shrieks of kids who’d likely be throwing up before the night was out. Kyle and Gabe ribbing each other over who was better at pin the tail on the donkey. Most of all, it was lovely to see Daisy with that big smile on her face.

  This was what Charles wanted. This was enough.

  Not everything was like the good old days. Lissa was gone, and Jane Slater was directing the proceedings like she owned the place.

  Someone had to do it, he conceded. And it was the kind of thing women seemed better at. He certainly wouldn’t have known where to start, with five of Daisy’s kindergarten friends invited, along with Charles and Gabe, and Barb and Hal.

  The kids had arrived at three, right after kindergarten, and would be gone by five. After that, the family would have a sit-down dinner—Gabe had volunteered to cook, since Jane was busy with the kids.

  Charles still couldn’t figure out whether or not there was something between her and Kyle. There was a— Well, he wasn’t the kind of man to say there was a crackle in the air. But there was something suspiciously like that when Kyle and Jane got within a couple of feet of each other. It was even more pronounced today than usual. Their eyes barely met, but he sensed that each knew where the other was at any given moment. That they were responding to cues no one else saw.

  It was worrying...if it was true. He hoped it was just his imagination, attributable to whatever bugbear was eating at him. Kyle was too sensible to get involved with a woman like that, he hoped, but one thing he’d learned as his boys grew up was that it always paid to keep tabs on them.

  If they’d let him. Truth to tell, Charles was starting to feel like a spare wheel around here.

  Best just to enjoy this family occasion, a warm reminder of what really mattered in his life. So what if he’d felt dissatisfied lately? He was a father, a grandfather and a respected citizen of Pinyon Ridge. What more could a man want?

  The kids had just finished a game of pass the parcel. Daisy seemed to be enjoying herself, which was something.

  “What’s next?” Charles asked Jane, since she was standing right next to him.

  “The kids get a choice of face painting or cupcake decorating,” she said.

  “How are you going to run both those at once?” he asked. “Because I can tell you, Kyle won’t be any use at either.”

  She laughed. Did her gaze soften as it landed on his older son? “I’m doing face painting. Micki’s teaching cupcake class.”

  “Micki!” The name burst from his lips. “I mean, she’s not here...is she?”

  “She will be—” Jane glanced at her watch “—any second now. Just as soon as she can get away from the café.”

  Almost before she finished speaking, a knock sounded on the front door. Before anyone could open it or call a “Come in,” Micki stepped inside.

  Charles lost his breath.

  She wore a skirt that sat just above the knee, giving him a look at her legs that he wasn’t sure he’d had before. On second thought, he knew he hadn’t. He would remember if he had—her legs were sensational.

  She looked completely different from the girl who made his breakfast every morning. This Micki wore makeup that made her eyes look bigger and drew his attention to her lips, courtesy of some kind of glossy lipstick. Her skirt turned out to be a dress, a sleeveless burgundy-colored thing with a high, Chinese-style collar but a vee that went so deep he could see cleavage.

  She looked amazing.

  “Evening, all.” She stopped in front of him. Smiled. “Hi, Charles.”

  “Hi.” Did he whisper, or shout? He wasn’t sure. “You look, uh, very nice.” For whose benefit was all this—this prettifying? Gabe had suggested she wasn’t involved with Kyle. Was that because she was with Gabe?

  “Thank you.” Her smile was downright mysterious.

  Or was she seeing someone else? Did one of these kids have a single dad?

  “Can I get you a drink?” Charles asked too abruptly.

  She didn’t seem to notice. “Is there anything that isn’t b
right pink and full of chemicals?”

  He chuckled, and it felt like their old camaraderie. “There’s tea in the refrigerator.”

  “Sounds good.” She followed him to the kitchen. A kid ran past her, and as she dodged him, her breasts grazed Charles’s arm.

  He almost had a heart attack.

  Instead, he sped up and raced to the refrigerator. By the time she got there he was ready to ward her off with a glass of tea.

  “Thanks.” She sipped it slowly, and Charles found himself watching.

  “I missed you at the café this morning,” he blurted. “I know you can’t always cook, and you don’t always have time to talk.” Although she used to always do both those things. “But today I didn’t even see you.” He sounded like a fool. An old fool.

  “I helped Jane decorate this place—I didn’t get into the café until ten.” Micki swept the room with her free hand. “She really wanted to get this party right.”

  It stuck in his craw to say anything decent about Jane Slater. Which he knew he should be ashamed of, but it was just the way it was. “That was good of her,” Charles said.

  “She’s...” Whatever the rest of her sentence was, Charles didn’t hear it. Micki had laid a hand on his arm and leaned in, as if she were confiding something for his ears only, and he couldn’t think about anything but the sensation of her touch.

  He should pull away, pull himself together...but he couldn’t move. He cast a wild glance around the room, seeking something that might stake a greater claim on his attention than Micki.

  There.

  Barb and Hal, who had withdrawn from the action in the living room, sat quietly in a corner. Barb looked haggard; Hal looked like death warmed over. Charles felt a surge of shame. These two good people had lost their daughter far too soon, were dealing with a debilitating condition, and here Charles was obsessing about a young woman touching his arm in what was surely the most platonic manner.

  I want her. He closed his eyes in frustration.

  “Charles, are you okay?” Micki asked.

  Hell’s bells, did he say that out loud?

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said.

  Not out loud, then. “No, it’s just I...uh...I— Excuse me,” he said, “I must go talk to Barb and Hal.”

  So much for this family gathering being all he could want. He pressed a palm to his forehead as he crossed the room, as if a window might have opened up, letting everyone see into his mind, see what a crass fool he was.

  “Barb, Hal,” he more or less croaked. They both smiled a welcome, too tired to talk, it seemed.

  He could tell already their company wasn’t going to fill the void. I need to find someone who can stop me thinking about Micki.

  I need a girlfriend.

  * * *

  THE PARTY WAS a roaring success, if the volume of the children’s shrieks was anything to go by. Jane had loved decorating the house and preparing the food, and she’d enjoyed painting lions, zebras and cats on children’s faces, while Micki helped them create frosting extravaganzas on the cupcakes she’d brought from the café. The kids had wolfed down a ton of junk food.

  And beneath the excitement of the party, another excitement had hummed. The electric tension between her and Kyle had added another dimension to the occasion. Purely because they’d left things up in the air after that kiss—one quick, rational conversation would probably deflate the whole thing. But they hadn’t had that conversation yet. Instead, they’d tried to carry on with the routine Jane had created...but there were subtle differences. While they were doing dishes, Kyle might brush past her. Their fingers would touch, linger, as they handed over coffee or a meal. They were exactly the kind of touches Jane had advised Micki to try on Charles. Touches that could be interpreted as interest.

  They were both doing a good job of pretending the touches weren’t happening. Which suggested Kyle was as unprepared as she was for that conversation they needed to have.

  Even though the sensible part of her knew this wasn’t going anywhere, the tension was undeniably thrilling.

  Now, it was time for presents. Daisy started with the gifts her friends from kindergarten had brought. Then Micki gave her a frosting set for future cupcake occasions. “I’ll teach you to use it,” she promised.

  Jane noticed how Charles hung on Micki’s every word, and took a while to look away after she finished speaking. Micki did look great in that burgundy color.

  Jane handed over her own gift, and was surprised how nervous she felt as Daisy neatly removed and folded the paper.

  Maybe she should have chosen a toy.

  Instead, she’d given one of her precious photos of her and Lissa, taken the weekend Lissa had dived headfirst through the men’s washroom window at that nightclub. Jane had set the photo in a pink glass frame that matched Lissa’s dress.

  Daisy lifted her eyes to Jane and said, “Mommy.”

  For one incredible, amazing, daunting, terrifying, exhilarating second, Jane thought Daisy was talking to her. Was calling Jane Mommy.

  Then she realized the shine in Daisy’s eyes, the slow widening of her smile, was because the picture was of Lissa.

  Of course it is.

  So there was no reason for this unbearable, stabbing chill in her heart.

  “That’s right,” Jane wheezed, aware of Kyle’s gaze, intent on her. “It’s your mommy.”

  To her shock, Daisy threw her arms around her and hugged her. Before Jane could remember to not get attached, her own arms went around Daisy and squeezed.

  She had to force herself not to cling too tight. Because it turned out Dr. Franks had spoken the truth: in some deep part of her, she thought of herself as Daisy’s mother.

  As Daisy pulled away, Jane was left reeling. Emotionally, and almost physically. It’s just biology. Not an emotional attachment. I can get past it.

  Barb took the photo from Daisy’s slackened grip. She stared down at Lissa’s laughing image. “I don’t think I’ve seen this one before.”

  “It was just after Lissa’s twentieth birthday,” Jane said.

  Tears glistened in Barb’s eyes. “Daisy, darling, you’re going to look just like your mommy when you grow up.”

  Jane couldn’t help an involuntary glance at Kyle...who was looking at her.

  Barb drew a sharp, shuddery breath. She handed the photo back to Daisy, who clutched it to her chest.

  “Are you okay?” Kyle asked in a low voice. He’d moved to stand next to Jane.

  She turned her head, forced a smile. “I’m fine.” I’m not fine. Daisy should be mine. Telling herself it was wrong to think that way didn’t change a thing.

  His hand touched her shoulder briefly, then he moved forward to help Daisy untie a knotted ribbon on her next gift.

  It was just past eight o’clock when Charles and Gabe offered to help Hal into the car on their way out. They made a head start while Barb gathered her purse and a handkerchief she’d misplaced. The older woman had grown increasingly quiet as the evening went on, and now her silence seemed tense.

  “I think Daisy had a nice time,” Jane offered. The little girl had gone upstairs to get ready for bed; Kyle had gone with her.

  “How nice could it be when her mother’s dead?” Barb demanded.

  Jane flinched.

  Barb shook her head. She brushed away a tear. “I’m sorry, Jane, that was rude after all your hard work. But I miss Lissa so much. The thought that I have to
face every day for the rest of my life with this—this vacuum...” Her voice cracked.

  “I’m so sorry.” Jane put her arms around Barb. “I can’t imagine.... If there’s anything I can do...”

  “There is.” Barb pulled away. “I wasn’t going to say this, but you did ask... Jane, it looks to me like you’re very settled here.”

  Jane tensed. “Kyle and I agreed I should stay on another month, but that’ll be up soon.”

  “And will there be an excuse to stay another month and another?” Barb asked.

  “I don’t understand.” But she was afraid she did.

  “I get the impression you can’t wait to step into Lissa’s shoes.”

  Even though she’d almost expected it, Jane gasped. “I didn’t— I’m not...”

  “It’s not surprising you should be drawn to the prospect of a ready-made family, given your own unhappy home life.” Barb spoke with unbearable kindness. “But Jane, this is Lissa’s family.”

  “You asked me to come here.” Jane blinked back tears of humiliation. “To stay here.”

  “For two weeks, that’s all,” Barb reminded her. “From what I saw tonight, you have your feet under my daughter’s table and you like it.”

  “I have no intention of taking Lissa’s place.” She forced the words out, suddenly unsure if they were true.

  “Then perhaps you’re not aware of how it looks, dear,” Barb said. “The way you and Kyle look at each other, how close he stands to you.”

  “Did I hear my name?” Kyle appeared in the doorway.

  Don’t say it, Jane willed her.

  But Barb wasn’t one to hold back in her views, just as she hadn’t the day of Lissa’s funeral. “Whatever’s going on between you and Jane,” she told Kyle, “it needs to stop.”

  Kyle advanced into the room. “Excuse me?”

  “It’s not good for Daisy, seeing her dad interested in another woman when her mother’s barely cold in her grave.”