Home to Sparrow Lake (Harlequin Heartwarming)

by Lynn Patrick

  He pulled out a chair for her. “Please sit. Would you like some champagne?” He pulled a bottle from a bucket of ice.

  “Of course. Wow, you’ve gone all-out.”

  He popped the cork and poured the champagne into graceful flutes. Handing her one, he offered a toast. “To the future.”

  “I’ll drink to that.”

  “Things are looking pretty good.”

  She hoped so, but couldn’t help thinking of Brian. “If only my little brother will straighten out. Do you think being the youngest in our family might have influenced his misbehavior?”

  “There are a variety of reasons for teenage angst,” said Alex, sitting down. “Take Matt Stapleton. When we talked to his parents, his father really got on his case. I think Matt believes he’s a failure because of his dad. Stapleton actually asked the kid if he thought becoming a criminal would make up for not being a first-string athlete. This, right in front of Owen and me. I felt sorry for Matt. He’s not the only one who needs counseling.”

  “That’s terrible,” Kristen agreed, frowning. “I hope we haven’t made Brian feel that he’s a failure.”

  “I don’t think so. He excelled in school, right? And I haven’t heard you putting him down.”

  “His new stepfather and he have had disagreements, but I think it’s been more about personality differences. At least, according to my mother.”

  “Yeah, remarriage and stepparents can be stressful.”

  “Plus moving to a new state.” Kristen sighed. “And I’ve come to realize I may not have been there for my brother when he needed someone. I left home for my last two years of college and…”

  “You’ve been working.”

  “I guess my work has taken its toll on everyone.”

  “Come on. It’s your choice. You have a right to a good career.”

  “I thought so.” Though Kristen was starting to wonder. Her sister had complained about her too-diligent work habits. Had she been selfish? she mused. Then she realized they’d gotten onto worrisome topics again.

  “I’m sorry, enough of that. What are we having for dinner?”

  “Well, the first course is salad.” Alex put his drink down to light the candle. “I know the French eat salad last, but I prefer my greens the American way.”

  “Salad sounds good to me. What’s the main course?”

  “Grilled lobster.”

  “Double wow.” And fancy. She joked, “Did you catch it in Sparrow Lake?”

  “I had them shipped in from a fish place John recommended.”

  He took a big salad bowl from the refrigerator and placed it on the table, along with some French bread. Then he placed a serving for each of them in smaller bowls and took a seat.

  “I’m going to have to be getting up and down for a while here,” he told her. “When I put the lobster on, it’ll cook fast.”

  Kristen sampled her salad. “Delicious.” And admirable. Jason had never taken this much time to impress her. If they ate at his apartment, they’d ordered out.

  “So, do you do a lot of cooking?”

  “A fair bit.”

  “I’m impressed. Did your mom teach you?”

  He shook his head. “I learned on my own. I like to eat, and while the Busy Corner is good for a quick breakfast or lunch, it has its limitations.”

  They made small talk until Alex rose to place the lobster and asparagus on the grill. At the same time, he stirred something into a pot of rice on the kitchen stove.

  “Need some help?” she asked.

  “Please sit. I want to wait on you.”

  As expected, the lobster and asparagus cooked quickly. Alex put the latter into a serving bowl and topped it with butter, then finished the lobsters in a sauté pan on the stove. When they were done, he slid each lobster onto a large dinner plate.

  Kristen smelled something burning. “I think you may be overcooking the rice.”

  Alex grabbed the pan from the burner. “Oh, no!” He took off the lid and peered inside. “So much for the rice pilaf.”

  “We’ll have plenty to eat anyway,” Kristen assured him as he dumped the contents of the pan into the garbage. “Besides, it makes me feel better to see that you can’t do every single thing perfectly. You have flaws.”

  Alex brought the dinner plates to the table. “You thought I didn’t have flaws? That’s a compliment coming from a woman like you.”

  “I guess we both do have high standards as far as work is concerned.” Kristen hadn’t thought about that before now.

  “I like people with high standards and a work ethic, people who are responsible.”

  He sat down and they dug into the perfectly cooked lobster.

  “Yum.” Kristen wiped a dribble of butter from her chin with her napkin. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten lobster grilled, but this is fabulous.”

  “Glad you like it. How’s the asparagus?”

  “Also yummy.” She helped herself to another forkful, musing about work ethics and standards. “I wonder why some people work hard and others don’t?” For herself, she’d always wanted to do the very best she could so she’d never be like her father. “I’ve always been ultraresponsible.”

  He looked thoughtful. “Then again, there are different ways to be responsible.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How about emotional responsibility?”

  Kristin quirked her brows.

  “Some of us believe we’re our brother’s keeper,” said Alex. “I thought about how important it was to keep the peace when I became a cop.”

  She nodded. “You’re serving and protecting society.”

  “Makes me feel useful to help others. I have a social conscience.”

  Social conscience? She considered that claim. His concern with the community was one of the things she liked about Alex. “I don’t know that I can exactly say the same. I try to have a conscience for the members of my family, I guess. And I feel of use, too. Even if I’m working for a company, I’m helping them provide services to others.”

  “And helping them make money.”

  “Making money isn’t a bad thing,” she insisted, “as long as you don’t trample others to get it.”

  “I agree. It must feel a little different when you’re helping someone you love make a living, though. Running Sew Fine is more personal than working at some corporation, don’t you think?”

  She hesitated. “I haven’t seen it that way, exactly.”

  “You just said you try to have a conscience for your family. You obviously like helping them or you wouldn’t go looking for your brother or babysit for your sister…or come back here when your aunt asked you to.”

  “How do you know she asked me?”

  “Oh, we were talking one time,” he said.

  “I also came back here for myself.” She felt it necessary to admit the whole truth. “I needed to regroup, recharge.” Plus, she’d had few other places to go.

  Alex’s warm gray eyes met hers across the table. “But now that you’re here, you’ve made a big difference, to your aunt, your sister…even Brian, though he won’t admit it yet. Doesn’t that make you feel good?”

  “Well, yes…” She pondered the job interview she’d set up for next week.

  “You sound ambivalent.”

  “I just never thought about the helping people angle. As you know, I’ve had to get some help myself recently.”

  He laughed. “Whether you wanted it or not. Those twins can definitely put you through the wringer. Speaking of the twins, did their mom find out what went down that night of ten thousand bubbles and a pack of dolls?”

  “I don’t think so. She hasn’t said anything,” Kristen admitted, “Of course, we’re not talking all that much lately.”

  “Too busy?”

  Kristen thought about the way her sister had been acting lately. About her threat to quit school. Now that worried her.

  “I think Heather’s frustrated with her schedule. She has too many thing
s on her plate.”

  “She must have appreciated your being willing to babysit.”

  “Well, yes. But she normally would have had a babysitter anyway. It’s my marketing plans that are getting on her nerves.” She put down her fork, feeling comfortably full. “I’ve been drumming up more business. I told you about that reporter from Milwaukee who interviewed me—it seems she knows about a bus tour that’s interested in putting Sew Fine on their itinerary.”

  “That sounds great.”

  “And I’m setting up a web page with links to an online ordering system.”

  “Also great. What’s Heather’s problem?”

  Kristen sighed. “She’s a mother, a college student and the manager of the store at the moment. She doesn’t think she can handle more business.”

  “With your help, she can. Just ask if she’d rather you take on the duties of manager. From the sounds of the situation, your sister will be all for it.”

  Manager of Sew Fine? Kristen felt uncomfortable. She wasn’t staying on in Sparrow Lake, and surely Alex wasn’t expecting her to do so. Something told her not to get into that subject with him.

  Instead, she insisted, “It will work out. It just has to be organized well, and we need more employees.”

  “Sure. If business is picking up, I say go with it.” He looked at her plate and the chunk of lobster remaining on it. “You aren’t finished, are you?”

  “I don’t think I can eat another bite.”

  “I can wrap it up for you to take home, I guess, but I can’t make one of those fancy foil take-home things.” His own plate was clean. “Want some sorbet?”

  “Not right now, thanks.”

  He picked up both dinner plates and took them to the kitchen. “You like what you’re doing, right?”

  “What do you mean? Do I like doing the marketing for Sew Fine?”

  “Right. Rebuilding an existing business, one in which you have a personal stake.”

  She had to admit she’d been excited by all the improvements she could make. “I’ve truly enjoyed it.”

  “I get the idea you’re even beginning to like quilting.”

  “I like the preciseness of it, sewing all the strips or blocks together to make a pattern.” Though she couldn’t say she was all that creative.

  “See? Managing Sew Fine is a perfect fit for you.”

  If it were only that simple, she thought, telling herself not to be annoyed with Alex trying to find a solution that would fit them all.

  Hearing some movement from the opposite side of kitchen, she glanced that way and caught a blur of movement. “Was that Spike, or do you have him locked up somewhere?”

  “Nah, he goes where he pleases. That was him sneaking around the corner. He was probably hiding under the bed until he made sure you weren’t dangerous.”

  “You have a shy guard dog?” she asked, surprised that he hadn’t barked at a stranger.

  Alex laughed. “Wait right here, it’s time you met tough old Spike.”

  He disappeared into the living room, saying, “There you are.” After some scrabbling noises, he appeared again, a big, fluffy, cream-colored cat in his arms. “Meet Spike.”

  Kristen had to laugh. There was something incongruous, if adorable, about a tall, strong man holding a cute, fuzzy cat.

  “What’s so funny?” Alex grinned at her.

  “And here I thought you had a German shepherd!”

  “Hey, don’t insult Spike. He looks unassuming, but he works undercover.”

  “Under covers is more like it, I bet.”

  “That, too.” He moved closer. “You aren’t allergic, are you?”

  “No.” Kristen reached out to take the cat, who struggled a little but allowed himself to be held. She stroked his soft head and admired his big, blue eyes. “Hi, Spike. You’re very handsome.” She told Alex, “I always thought about getting a cat myself. I just wasn’t home enough for any kind of pet.”

  “Well, I didn’t ‘get’ this cat. He started hanging around and I fed him. I put up notices, but nobody claimed him. I took him to a vet but he doesn’t have a chip. What could I do? He moved in, and I didn’t have the heart to kick him back out to the street.”

  Another thing to like about Alex—his soft side.

  “This guy looks like he might be a purebred, maybe Himalayan,” she said. “They’re expensive. It’s odd that he’d be a stray. Maybe he got outside and wandered away.”

  “If he belongs to anyone in town, they should have said something.”

  “Because you’re not giving him up now?”

  “He’s weeks into training. He’s a valuable addition to the police force.”

  “I’m sure.” Kristen laughed again. “You ought to buy him a black leather collar with spikes so he looks tougher.”

  She put the cat down and picked up the salad bowls and stray silverware, taking them to the kitchen to be loaded into the dishwasher.

  “You shouldn’t be doing this,” he told her. “Customers don’t work at classy restaurants.”

  “Well, this is a more homey, classy type of restaurant.”

  “Since you insist.”

  Between them, they made short work of clearing the rest of the table.

  “I truly loved the meal,” she told him. She also thoroughly enjoyed his company. Alex was not only good-looking but intelligent and intriguing. With his dry sense of humor and unusual ideas, he always managed to surprise her. Now she realized he was also something of a homebody, a trait that attracted her, as well. He would be the perfect man to settle down with…for someone.

  The evening was darkening as they sat on the enclosed porch. The candle on the table between them flickered and the wind murmured through the backyard trees. Although there must be lights in the windows of some nearby houses, trees and bushes obscured them so that Kristen could feel as if she and Alex were alone. A very nice feeling, indeed.

  “That must be east over there,” she said, motioning. “That glow. The moon is rising.”

  “Oops, I almost forgot. We don’t want to be late for the show.” He got up and held out his hand. “Come on, we’re taking a drive.”

  Outside, Alex helped Kristen into the car and took off. Soon they found themselves on the road that circled the lake. The June air was fragrant but cool and Kristen shivered, wishing she’d brought a sweater.

  She barely noticed the dark and twisty path leading off the main road until Alex turned the car onto it. Nosing upward, their headlights searched the opaque darkness and gravel crunched beneath the tires. The car bounced over ruts as it climbed. Tree branches hung so low and thick that they seemed to be driving through a leafy tunnel.

  “Where on earth are we going?”

  “To get the best seat.”

  Whatever that meant.

  A little farther on, they exited the tunnel of foliage and came out onto a rise overlooking the lake. The gravel road widened into an area a little bigger than a turnaround. On one side was a sheer drop, offering a sprawling view. Alex pulled up to the small barrier near the edge, parked and turned off the engine.

  “The show,” he said, with an expansive gesture. “Much bigger than anything Hollywood has ever produced.”

  Taking in the scene before her, Kristen had to agree. A vast canopy of stars twinkled overhead, as well as below, where the starlight became liquid pinpoints in the water. More gentle lights flickered from houses near the lake on the other side.

  “Fantastic,” she breathed.

  “You won’t see this in a city. Not all these stars.”

  “The city lights blot them out,” she agreed.

  To the east, the dark horizon smoldered.

  “And here she comes,” said Alex. “We’re just in time.”

  As they watched, the moon suddenly slid up into the sky, a silvery orb above the dark shapes of hills and trees.

  “She? What happened to the man in the moon?”

  “I see the moon as a beautiful woman.” He turned toward he
r and, though she couldn’t make out details in the moonlight, she knew his eyes were intense and warm. “Like you.”

  She shivered, partly from the power of his gaze, partly from the beauty of the night and partly because she was cold.

  “Hmm, you didn’t bring a sweater, did you?” he murmured. “Guess I’ll just have to help you out.” He slid a warm arm around her shoulders.

  She leaned back against him. “Feels good.” The whole night felt good, better than any in recent memory.

  “Now listen,” he told her. “We have a concert, too.”

  Both remained silent, letting the sound of night insects and birds permeate the air. The wind moved the branches of trees, making leaves whisper. There was a light splat of water below the rise where the car was parked—probably a frog or a night bird.

  Feeling at peace and warmed all the way through by Alex, Kristen took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh scents of water and growing things.

  “Smells good, doesn’t it?” He leaned closer to nuzzle her neck, his lips gentle but seeking. “But not as good as you.”

  Tracing a path from her throat to her mouth, he covered her lips with his own. Contrasted with the hardness of his chest, they were unbearably soft. She wrapped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes, losing herself to sensation. His breath tasted of lemon and champagne. His skin was smooth with a little rough stubble on the lower part of his face. He was the warmth at the center of darkness, night sounds and circling breezes. The embrace went on and on, and she had no desire to cut it short. He held her against him so that she could feel the rapid beat of his heart. Surely her heart was pounding just as quickly.

  Slowly, she became aware of other noises in the background, crunching sounds. Like tires on gravel? Accompanying the crunching was a low growl. A car engine?

  Alex must have heard it, too, because he broke their kiss to glance over his shoulder. A car emerged from the shadows, its lights off. It pulled up to park beside them. A startled young face gazed out the window at them. Alex waved.

  The person in the car window waved back halfheartedly, as if he or she were timid. Then, just as quietly, the car backed up, turned around and left.

  “They didn’t like sharing this view with us, huh?” said Kristen.

  “Actually, they probably got nervous seeing the police chief in the Sparrow Lake make-out spot.”