“You don’t have to justify where you choose to live.”
She started to object, but he was right. She realized that after explaining repeatedly why she’d left her parents’ home, her defensive tone had practically become engrained. “You might be the only person in Montana who has that opinion.”
Lucas smiled. “If I were to ask about you in town, what would people tell me about Melanie Knowles?”
Her sigh turned into a groan. “I have a bad feeling you’re about to find out.”
7
“YOU SURE TOOK your sweet time getting here,” Mrs. Wagner said before she’d completely opened the front door. She cut short her sniff of disapproval the second she saw Lucas. “Who are you?” she asked, leaning on her walker and peering at him through her thick glasses.
“Do not be crabby with me,” Melanie said, even though the woman hadn’t spared her a glance. “You’ve been cooking. I can smell it.”
The acrid tang of smoke was in the air, all right. Lucas figured it wouldn’t be a bad thing to leave the door open and crank up a few windows. But the tiny elderly woman with the short snow-white hair hadn’t moved. She continued to stare at him and block their entrance.
“This is Lucas Sloan. He’s going to look at your sink. Now, may we come in?”
“I’m Gertrude,” she said, lowering her chin to take another look at him over her wire rims.
“Morning, ma’am.” He smiled and finished scraping the bottom of his boots on the upside-down welcome mat.
Curiosity lit a gleam in her faded blue eyes. “My, but you’re a handsome buck. Where did you come from?”
Melanie let out a short laugh. “Mrs. Wagner, do you want Lucas to think we have no manners here in Blackfoot Falls?”
“You think I care what anyone thinks? At my age, a body doesn’t have that kind of time to waste.” She cautiously stepped back, slowly moving the walker with her. Then, pausing, she frowned at Melanie. “Don’t you go calling my son to tattle. Dropping a slice of bread in a toaster ain’t cooking.”
As soon as she maneuvered the walker around, he and Melanie exchanged smiles. That wasn’t burned toast. Smelled more like overfried fish.
They stepped inside the small cluttered house with its garish blue walls, and Lucas closed the door behind them. “We should open a few windows,” he said, leaning close to Melanie so only she would hear.
She let out a little sigh of exasperation that carried her warm breath to the side of his neck. “Yes, but only the ones with screens or we’ll have a hundred flies in here.”
He studied the column of her slender throat down to her dainty collarbones visible just above her neckline. With her small pointed chin and wrists so tiny he could hold them both in one hand, she really was delicately put together. He couldn’t recall ever thinking of a woman in those terms. “I’ll go check the leak, then get my tools,” he muttered before he did something foolish.
“What are you two whispering about?” From over her shoulder, Gertrude frowned at them.
“We’re going to open some windows, Mrs. Wagner,” Melanie said. “Just for a little bit.”
“And let all that heat in?”
“It’s not that warm outside,” Melanie said and rolled her eyes at Lucas.
He held back a grin. “I’m following you, Mrs. Wagner, so you can show me the problem.”
“Call me Gertrude.” She gave him a once-over. “Or Gerdie,” she said, her wide smile displaying overly large dentures. With a little more spring in her step, she resumed pushing the walker toward the kitchen.
All he did was look at Melanie, and she hastily covered her mouth. “Do not make me laugh,” she mumbled. “I mean it.” She lowered her hand to shoo him. “Go.”
He watched her hurry to a window and struggle to lift it. Much as he wanted to help, he didn’t dare. Damn, but he’d never been turned on by a pair of collarbones and a giddy laugh before. With a mental shake, he went after Gertrude. The powerful burned smell led him directly to the dingy yellow kitchen. The tulip wallpaper was old and faded, and he could see where someone had tried to mend the cracks in the tan linoleum floor.
It still wasn’t safe for a woman relying on a walker. He could see places where the wheel might get caught. On the drive Melanie had given him the scoop on the elderly lady, whose age was somewhere between eighty-one and eighty-five. Gertrude had outlived two husbands and a daughter, was still sharp and stubborn as a mule and refused to move to Billings to live with her only son and his family. She’d grown up in this house and given birth to both her children in the same bedroom where she herself had been brought into the world. Gertrude Wagner wasn’t going anywhere. Not until they carried her body out on a gurney.
He stood in the doorway and watched her carefully skirt one of the worrisome cracks. “Better stay where you are,” he told her. “I can see where the floor is wet.”
She edged back. “The water is coming from underneath,” she said, leaning forward to peer into the sink. “It’s gone down some. An hour ago the backup dang near made it to the top.”
Using the toe of his boot, he pushed aside a pile of soggy rags so he could open the lower cabinet door. “Did you stuff something down the drain you shouldn’t have?”
She sniffed. “I know better than to do that.”
“You’re not supposed to be frying fish, either.” He looked over at her and watched her initial outrage fade to sheepishness. “I’m not trying to embarrass you, Gertrude. Just like Melanie isn’t being mean when she tells you to leave the cooking to her. It’s for your own safety.”
“I’m not an invalid,” she muttered and tightened her mouth.
He crouched down to check the pipe. “No, but I heard you’ve had a couple mishaps this year. Melanie worries about you.” He stuck his head in as far as he could. The pipe was old. He could fix the leak, but the repair would be temporary. Replacing everything was the right thing to do. He’d have to discuss it with Melanie first.
“No one needs to worry about me. Been taking care of myself since before my second husband passed,” she said with a huff. “Henry spent his last year abed, and I took care of him, too.”
“Yep, everyone needs help from time to time.” He pushed to his feet. “That’s why Melanie looks after you.”
Normally, it wasn’t his style to butt into another person’s affairs, and this feeling of protectiveness toward Melanie... He wasn’t sure where that was coming from, either. But he knew she was concerned about the woman, and for good reason. Trouble was, everyone seemed willing to let Gertrude delude herself, even at the risk of her own safety. She needed to pay attention to the boundaries her son and Melanie had set.
“I’m going out to my truck for some tools.” He found a clean rag to wipe his hands, then finally looked at Gertrude again, meeting her intensely curious eyes.
“Where are you from, Lucas? How do you know our Melanie?”
“Wyoming. Safe Haven.”
Gertrude snorted a laugh. “You’re a man of few words when the shoe’s on the other foot.”
He smiled. “Melanie worries. I doubt you want that for her.”
“No,” she agreed, sighing and leaning heavily on the walker. “The girl doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. She’d rather tiptoe around my stubborn pride than point it out. Truth be told, only reason I get to stay in this house is because of her. But then, Melanie’s a damn saint. Ask anyone.”
Lucas had to laugh at that. Gertrude didn’t appear to see the irony of using those two words together. “How about you sit for a spell?” He pulled out a battered oak chair from the kitchen table. The set was old but sturdy. “You can supervise me.”
She studied him with shrewd eyes, then let out a rusty chuckle. “Lord, I’ll have to go easy on the poor girl. She’s got her hands full with you.” Gertrude took he
r time getting to the chair and then wearily sank down. “Go on. I’ll be right here when you get back.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He pulled the walker out of her reach, and she gave him a cranky look.
Lucas just grinned. When he turned, he saw Melanie standing in the doorway watching them. Baffled by her sullen expression, he motioned for her to follow him outside. She couldn’t have overheard anything objectionable. Yet she looked as if she wanted to throw something.
* * *
MELANIE WAITED FOR HIM on the porch. If he dared to call her Saint Melanie he could go to dinner by himself tonight. Of all the names she’d ever been called, she hated that one the most. But of course someone at some point today would have to pull out the moniker and dust it off.
In the back of her mind she’d known it might happen if she brought Lucas with her. But within minutes of arriving in town? Jeez. All she needed now was for Mrs. Wagner to tell him how Melanie had followed in her sainted mother’s footsteps. Nothing to excite a man like being with the town martyr.
It was no surprise that two of Mrs. Wagner’s neighbors were peeking out from their kitchen windows. They didn’t recognize Lucas’s truck. She waved to Celeste Lindstrom, who waved back. Lillian Brown, the biggest gossip on the street, pretended she hadn’t been pressing her nose to the glass and slowly let the ruffled green curtain fall back into place.
Oh, let them talk.... She didn’t care. In fact, it was time she had a new image, so good.
“She needs a new elbow pipe,” Lucas said behind her. “I can fix this one temporarily, at least unclog the P-trap, but it’ll be leaking again in a month.”
“Oh.” She sighed. “Well, that is a problem.”
“Does the local hardware store stock plumbing supplies? It’s a common pipe. I can pick one up and do the job right now.”
“I honestly don’t know what Mr. Jorgensen carries along that line.” She stared at the rag in his hand. He had some scars near his knuckles that she hadn’t noticed before. “I didn’t expect this to be a big deal. You shouldn’t be wasting your time—”
“Relax, Melanie.” He touched her arm, then let the tips of his fingers trail down to her wrist. “I don’t mind helping.”
She moved her arm away and glanced over to see if Lillian was still at the window. “Only if I can pay you.”
“Pay me?” Lucas cursed under his breath, but she heard.
Startled, she turned to meet his gaze.
“Now, that really pisses me off.” He wasn’t kidding. He did not look happy.
“I’m sorry. I meant no offense.”
With an almost-imperceptible shake of his head, he stared past her toward the mountains, his expression dark and brooding like yesterday. He reminded her of Heathcliff on the moors. Mysterious and changeable. Cool, detached, his eyes distant, he seemed nothing like the man who’d changed the bus tire and kept Mrs. Wagner out of harm’s way.
The silence... She couldn’t stand it anymore. “Lucas?”
Rubbing a hand over his short hair, he exhaled. The tension seemed to slowly leave his shoulders but his gaze stayed on something in the distance. “You have shopping to do. I can drop you at the market while I check the hardware store. How’s that?”
“Look, can I just say again that I’m sorry?”
“No need.”
This time she touched him, and he finally looked at her...at least at the hand she’d laid on his arm. “I would’ve been upset, too,” she said, “if our roles were reversed. I wasn’t thinking. Forgive me.”
His short derisive laugh made her breath catch. “You don’t need my forgiveness.” He raised his gaze to her face, his eyes warming, and she felt her mouth relax into a smile. But he lingered too long on her lips, and instinctively she moistened them with her tongue.
“We should get going. I’ll tell Gertrude...” Melanie pulled back her hand, but he caught it, closing his fingers around her wrist.
His hold was gentle, his eyes unwavering. “Do you live on this street?”
Her gaze automatically went to the row of small houses with their neatly trimmed lawns and cheery little flower beds. She suspected someone had to be looking out their window, curious about the stranger standing on Mrs. Wagner’s porch and holding Pastor Ray’s daughter captive. “The next one over.”
Lucas loosened his grip but leaned closer. “Then I won’t kiss you.” A slight smile curved his mouth. “For now.”
The September air was far too warm for the shiver that raced down her spine. Every instinct told her to pull free, step away from him. Surely that was what he expected her to do. She surprised them both by holding his gaze even when he released her and moved away first. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“It felt as though you were testing me.”
He frowned. “How?”
Immediately she regretted her words. It was her. She’d overreacted to the saint reference. He wasn’t seeing how far he could push her. Not like Rusty Smith had done after the eleventh-grade dance in order to win a bet. She’d actually thought Rusty liked her. That night in the school parking lot still ranked number one as the most humiliating experience of her life.
“Wow, I’m on a roll today.” She briefly closed her eyes, then reluctantly looked at him. “Any chance we can just erase the last half hour?”
Lucas, bless him, gave her a slow easy smile. “I’ve never been one for dwelling on the past.”
“Good. Excellent.” She smiled back, earnestly looking forward to dinner at the Sundance with him. She didn’t have to worry about the McAllisters. They weren’t ones to judge. And after dinner? Thinking of the possibilities, she held back a sigh. “I’m going to grab Gertrude’s shopping list and tell her what we’re doing,” she said, backing toward the door.
He didn’t say a word, just nodded, his gaze running down her body. Not in a creepy or deliberate way. The appreciation in his eyes made her insides quiver. No man had ever looked at her like that before. Certainly no man as sexy and good-looking as Lucas.
It was a wonder she didn’t trip hurrying back into the house.
Hearing Mrs. Wagner’s voice, Melanie realized the woman was on the phone, probably talking to one of the Lemon sisters. Although she didn’t mean to eavesdrop, she couldn’t help hearing Lucas’s name and her own. And then Mrs. Wagner’s creaky laugh just before she lowered her voice.
Uh-oh. That wasn’t good.
All Melanie had to do was noisily clear her throat or walk over the loose squeaky floorboard near the kitchen entrance. Instead she just stood in the doorway.
“Heavens, but you should see them together. They’re just as cute as could be. Call her and invite them over. You’ll see.” Mrs. Wagner caught sight of her and straightened. “I have to go, Miriam. Talk to you later.” She hung up the ancient wall phone behind her and turned to Melanie. “So you’re still here. Figured you deserted me.”
“You know I wouldn’t do that. Where’s your grocery list?”
Mrs. Wagner felt around in the pocket of her faded blue housedress and pulled out a slip of paper. The weekly items rarely varied, but she adjusted the bifocals that still gave her trouble after she’d worn them for thirty years and rechecked the list.
“While I shop, Lucas is going to the hardware store for a pipe so he can fix your sink,” Melanie said, wondering if she should ignore what she’d guessed was going on or nip it in the bud. “Mrs. Wagner, I’m asking you very nicely—please don’t play matchmaker.”
She lifted her head, a puzzled frown on her craggy face. “What’s that?”
“Lucas is a very nice man, but he’s here on business. That’s all.” Melanie couldn’t decide if the confusion on the woman’s face was genuine or not. “No matchmaking, okay? I mean it.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake.” She waved a hand.
“The thought never entered my mind. Even I can see Lucas is too much man for you.”
The pronouncement hit Melanie harder than a round of buckshot. She drew in a slow calming breath, feeling as helpless as a bird whose wings had been clipped. Luckily, she didn’t have to put up a front. Gertrude had already gone back to reviewing her list. After all, the notion of Lucas and Melanie together was so absurd it didn’t warrant another second of her time.
* * *
THE SUNDANCE WAS bustling with activity. Tendrils of smoke from the barbecue barrels drifted toward the cloudless blue sky, and even with the truck windows up, Lucas could smell charred mesquite and grilled steaks. Although it was possible his imagination was responding to his empty belly. The burger he’d grabbed at the diner after taking Melanie to Safe Haven to get her car hadn’t been enough. Not after working all day.
He parked in the middle of a dozen or so rentals, cut the engine and turned to Melanie. Her attention was glued to a trio of women wearing skimpy sundresses and sipping drinks on the porch.
“You look really nice,” he said and waited for her to face him. She’d been acting strange ever since they’d left Gertrude’s, the first on a long list of stops they’d made throughout the afternoon. He’d expected her to bail on him tonight. That was why he’d insisted on bringing her with him.
She glanced down at her khaki shorts and stretchy blue tank top beneath an open white shirt. “Everyone’s wearing dresses.”
“That’s because they’re city folk and don’t know any better.”
Melanie looked at him and smiled. It faded as her gaze returned to the women. “Do you know most of them?”
“Me?” He picked up his Stetson. “Hell no. I got out of here as fast as I could this morning.”
Need You Now Page 8
