by EC Sheedy
She was nearly out the door when he spoke.
"The door to your room is down the hall, Evan. That one"—he nodded in the direction of the adjoining door—"locks from your side. Now that we understand each other, maybe we can start over. I still need someone to fill in for Maud, and you still want the cabin. Right?"
She hesitated, gave him an openly dubious look. "You honestly think we can salvage a working relationship out of a tasteless pass and a hard right to the jaw?"
"We can try." He offered his hand.
She looked at it; at the long fingers, wide palm, deeply furrowed line of fate. Wordlessly she slipped her hand into his. Sensation and heat eddied up her arm with a swiftness that caught her off guard. She reclaimed her hand. It wasn't so easy to reclaim her calm. Avoiding his eyes, she opened the door. "I hope this works," she muttered, half to herself, half to him, as she stepped through the door.
"It will. And I promise no more tasteless passes," he said, closing the door.
Chapter 2
Evan caught glimpses of Linc throughout the rest of the day, but they never spoke. He kept busy with the endless procession of trades people, while she, unable to get her own house in order, helped Maud organize Linc's. Jenny trailed after Cal with the diligence of a trained hound. And while Cal didn't quite know what to do with her, he was male enough to respond to female adoration even if it did come in a too-small package. Right now, at Jenny's insistence, they were off touring her playhouse.
"What about this, Maud?" Evan held up a large serving plate. They were emptying the last of the boxes in the kitchen.
"Can you reach the top shelf? Anywhere up there will be fine," Maud replied, stuffing paper back into an empty carton. She stood, rubbing her lower back. "I'm for a cup of coffee. What about you?"
"Sounds good." Evan stepped down from the chair she was standing on and turned to smile at the older woman. She liked Maud, admired her air of quiet sophistication. It struck Evan as odd that Maud was here, housekeeping and baby-sitting for Linc Stewart. Somehow, she didn't seem like an employee. "And I'll make the coffee," she volunteered, heading for the cluttered counter. "You sit for a while. You haven't stopped moving since I got here this morning."
"And thank heaven you did. You've been such a wonderful help. I don't know how I'd have managed without you." Maud took a chair near the window, sinking into it with a grateful sigh as Evan set about making the coffee. "I've been meaning to ask, did Lincoln explain why you're needed here?"
"Not in any great detail. Just that he wanted someone to back you up in case you need to leave unexpectedly."
Maud leaned forward. "It's my mother. She's ninety-three years old and, I'm afraid, nearing the end of her days."
"I'm sorry. It must be difficult for you." Evan sometimes wondered if her own mother was still alive. There was no one to tell her one way or the other, and after sixteen years she hadn't heart to look for her—only to be rejected. Again. Nor did she want that for Cal.
"Thank you. But we—my sister and I—are prepared for it. As is Mother. She lives with Marion about an hour's drive from here. Now that Lincoln, Jenny, and I are back in Victoria, I'd like to spend two or three nights a week with her, if I can. Lincoln is usually home for Jenny, so it shouldn't be a problem. It's only when he's away or has a meeting you'll be needed. It shouldn't pose much of a hardship. We'll try to give you as much notice as possible, dear, so your own plans won't be disrupted."
"That's good of you, but I'll probably be here every night anyway. I don't go out much."
"No beau?"
"No beau," she said, amused by Maud's word choice. "Cal and me. That's the whole package."
Maud's expression turned serious. "He's a wonderful boy, Evan. So grown-up for his age. You must be proud."
"I am. Very. I was so young when I had Cal. He's had to grow up fast, like his mother."
The expression in the older woman's eyes made Evan stop talking. "I know that look, Maud, sympathetic, maybe even a little sad, but neither Cal nor I need sympathy. We've made it through, and from now on, there's no way to go but up." Evan went over and handed her a steaming mug of coffee. "First, Cal goes to college, then I'll..."
"Go on."
"I'll do whatever I want." Evan decided she'd shared enough confidences for one day. Besides, didn't her simple answer say it all?
"And do you know what that is?"
"More or less." She didn't mean to be evasive, but she'd dreamed about "her time," as she'd come to call it, for so long, she rarely tempted fate by talking about it. Scary to think it was as close as next year. No way did she want to blow it.
Maud gave her a thoughtful look and sipped her coffee.
"Yo, Mom." Cal came in the kitchen door, Jenny in tow. "This place is wild. Mr. Stewart has five cars—count 'em, five, and"—he gave a full-house grin—"a Harley. He doesn't even ride it," he added with amazed disbelief. "And you should see Jen's place. She's got this cool little house her dad built for her. It's got four rooms. And he had it shipped here all the way from—where was it again?" He glanced at Jenny.
"Paris, London," Jenny answered with a note of importance.
Cal chuckled. "Yeah. Right."
Evan looked down at Jenny. The girl's grin was as wide as Cal's. "You can live there if you want," she said to him, obviously delighted at the prospect of giving her hero his heart's desire. Cal lifted his brows at his mom.
"It's okay, Jen. You keep it, but I'll come and visit you sometime, okay?" he said.
"Tomorrow?" Jenny was not about to let him off the hook.
"Yeah, tomorrow." Cal's attention made a rapid shift. "Mom, I'm, uh..." He stopped uncertainly and looked nervously at Maud. She smiled.
"Hungry, unless I miss my guess." Maud rose from her chair, looking at her watch as she did so. "It's almost six for heaven's sake. Want to help?"
"Sure, Mrs. Cahane. What can I do?"
"You can call me Maud to start with, Mister Calvin North, and you can get me the ground beef from the fridge. I think I can rustle up some burgers at least."
"You got it," he said.
"Never mind, Cal," a deep voice said from the doorway. "We're going out to eat. Maud's done enough for today. I was thinking Chinese."
At the sound of her father's voice, Jenny piped up, "Pizza, Daddy. I want pizza." Linc gave his daughter a smile that took Evan's breath away and held out his arms. Jenny leaped into them and he swung her high. "If you want pizza, darlin', pizza it will be."
* * *
Three hours later they were back at the house. Evan was in shock; Maud was exhausted; and Cal was disgusted. That left two people who seemed to think everything was perfectly normal.
"I'm for bed," Maud said the minute they were in the house. "Come on, Jenny. Let's go."
"I don't want to," Jenny protested, clutching her father around the neck. "I'm not tired."
"Of course you are, darling." Linc set her on her feet. "It's after nine. Go along with Maud now."
Maud took the little girl's hand and started her up the stairs, and gave Evan an odd look. Some message in it. Like, be careful. Evan glanced up at Linc and was surprised to find him looking at her, his expression thoughtful.
"Thanks for dinner. It was a pleasant evening," she lied.
"No further comment?" he asked. His look was brooding, distrustful.
She tilted her head in a question. "Comment? About what?" she asked, straining to appear innocent.
"About how I choose to raise my child."
"She's your daughter. If you want to indulge her, that's your business."
Her answer didn't seem to appease him. "Spoil her, you mean." He looked angry now. "That's what you're thinking, isn't it? That Jenny is spoiled and willful."
Evan's glance fell to study the newly laid carpet. If she were to criticize Jenny's behavior or Linc's child-rearing techniques—or lack of them—it could cost her the cabin.
"I'm tired. How about we talk about this another time?" Or better yet, nev
er.
"No. We'll talk about it now. I watched you tonight." He gave her a hard stare. "You don't like Jenny."
"Don't like..." Evan was stunned. When she found her voice, she went on. "Jenny is a beautiful, bright child. It is not about liking her."
"What is it about then?"
She wasn't going to escape this. He wasn't going to let her. God, she'd been in the house less than twenty-four hours, and she'd already had two arguments with the man. Not a good omen. She couldn't understand it. She never fought with anyone. She chose her next words carefully.
"It's a question of child-rearing, uh, philosophy." Good girl, she told herself, pleased that she'd found exactly the right phrase.
"Bull! That remark leaves you treading water. I want to know how you feel about Jenny."
"I told you. I like Jenny. It would be impossible not to."
"Oh-huh. So you like Jenny. And?"
She sighed. He wasn't going to let it go. "Okay. I admit to being shocked when you allowed her to crawl over the back of the seat into the next booth."
"She was restless. Jenny gets like that."
"You ordered three different pizzas just for her, Linc. One—the first one she ordered—should have been enough."
"She's young. She has trouble making up her mind. How in hell is a four-year-old going to know she doesn't like pineapple?" He sounded defensive.
"You might have stopped her from complaining long and loud enough to disrupt the whole restaurant, and besides, she didn't have to eat the pineapple. And—" Enough said.
"And?" His blue eyes locked on hers.
Cursing her big mouth, she lifted her eyes to his and steeled herself. "She was... bratty. I didn't see any of that behavior today—when you weren't around. It's as if the child knows she can get away with anything as long as Daddy's there."
"She's high-spirited and—"
"Jenny's restless, young, high-spirited. Yes, she's all those things, but she's also a little girl. You're the adult. If you choose to let her run over you like a pint-sized steamroller, that's your business. I'm merely suggesting she needs a firmer hand."
"Yeah, that's what her mother said," he drawled, his voice hard and low. "Before she backhanded her across the room. And here I always thought women were the gentler, more loving sex."
Evan looked at him in stunned disbelief. "Jenny's mother abused her?"
He moved away from the door and went to lean on the balcony rail, hands wide apart, head hanging low between his broad shoulders. "She didn't get the chance. That blow was the first and the last. Fortunately for Jenny, her mother wasn't around much. Moira preferred high living to her daughter's company. Mostly, Jenny was in the care of, as her mother put it, 'cool, objective professionals.' " He stopped talking suddenly and looked at her. She'd come up beside him and was also leaning against the rail.
He went on. "The funny thing is, I was the one who insisted Moira stay home more, make a real home for Jenny. I thought it would be better for Jen. Wrong. Moira wasn't cut out for motherhood. Oh, she made a stab at it for a while, but it was clear, damn fast, she didn't have the temperament for it. Apparently, she had loftier goals." He almost snorted this last comment before continuing. "The day she hit Jenny was the day we left. I didn't expect a custody battle, and Moira didn't disappoint me. A fat check took care of everything. That was two years ago."
"I'm sorry," Evan said, not knowing what else to say.
Linc straightened, gave her a sharp look. "Don't be. It was the best decision I ever made, and long overdue. I don't want your sympathy. I want your understanding—for Jenny's sake. What she needs is love, attention. What she doesn't need is another firm hand. Do I make myself clear?"
"Perfectly." And he had but... Her doubt must have shown on her face.
"But you don't agree with me?" His expression hardened.
"It's not up to me to agree or disagree. I've raised Cal my way. You're entitled to raise Jenny any way you see fit. It's not my place to interfere."
"Good. I'm glad you see it my way."
"Can I say one more thing?"
He eyed her warily before giving a crisp nod.
"Like I said, I won't interfere, but I think being permissive with a child can be damaging, too. A firm hand can be loving as well as harsh." As if to prove her point, she touched his hand briefly. "But thank you for telling me about Jenny."
* * *
Once in his bedroom, Linc headed directly for the shower. He was tense, frustrated, and angry. Who the hell did she think she was anyway? Miss Evangeline North. When he wanted her opinion, he'd ask for it. And she damn well better live up to her promise not to interfere. There'd been enough cold-hearted women in Jenny's young life—and his. She didn't need another. And he damn sure didn't.
He stopped mid-stride on the way to the bathroom. Hard to think of Evan as cold-hearted.
Her brief empathetic touch wasn't cold. Those marvelous green eyes weren't cold. They were warm and, except when she was looking at him, filled with laughter. Her smile was warm, even when she smiled at him, which was rare. He liked her smile. Damned if he didn't like the whole woman. Tough, honest, with a breezy friendliness at odds with her stubborn jaw and steely determination. She'd wanted to walk out on him this afternoon. He was sure of it. But she'd wanted that hellish cabin even more. One thing was certain: women always wanted something. The trick was to figure out what.
He unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it on top of the laundry hamper in the bathroom; jeans followed, then briefs. Naked, he turned on the shower and stepped in. Arms wide, he braced himself against the shower wall and let the water pound over the tight muscles in his back. He closed his eyes and thought about Evan's firm but loving hand.
He swore. Right now any loving hand would do. He was as horny as a kenneled stud. Disgusted with himself, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. He was barely dry before he pulled back the sheets and stretched himself across the bed. He leaned over to turn out the light and, in the enfolding blackness, rested one arm across his forehead.
He didn't like talking about Moira. Hell, he didn't like thinking about the conniving bitch, but it was necessary. Evan needed to know for Jenny's sake. He remembered the way she'd cocked her head to listen, the intensity of her gaze, how she'd tapped her chin, then shook her head. If he didn't know better, he'd think she cared.
With an abrupt movement, he got up and walked over to the highboy near the window. He rifled through the top drawer and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He took one out and headed for the outdoor balcony, then stopped. He was naked, and Evan was in the next room. Their balconies adjoined. He pulled on some jeans, lit his second cigarette of the day, and stepped out the French doors.
The moon, poised over the water, looked like an antique coin, full and mysteriously shadowed. A ribbon of yellow glowed over the silent but rippling ocean. The night was pure sapphire, clear and bright. Linc rubbed the back of his neck. God, he hoped it wasn't going to be another night spent staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. He took a long pull on his cigarette, exhaled, and watched the small curl of smoke obscure the moon.
"Those things will kill you." It was Evan. She'd stepped onto the balcony from her room. She wore a long, soft robe. Green. Linc liked green.
"So they say." He took another drag, then flicked the cigarette off the balcony.
She shook her head, smiled at him. "Not content with lung disease, the man now tries to set his house on fire." Running her hands along the balcony rail, she lifted her head to look at the moon. "It's an amazing night, isn't it?" She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them to look at him directly. "I've never been anywhere this beautiful, you know."
He studied her. She was being far too nice for someone he'd argued with less than an hour ago.
"Where have you been?" He was curious. More so than he expected to be.
"The prairies mostly—that's where I was born—then west to Vancouver. That's about it. Not exactly a world traveler."
&
nbsp; "What brought you to Victoria?"
"First off, a job—the company I worked for in Vancouver opened an office here a few months ago. They asked me to transfer, and I jumped at it. And the University. U Vic has a solid reputation. I think Cal will like it there." She took a deep breath. Her next words were for herself more than him. "Everything's going to be perfect, absolutely perfect."
Linc stared at her. If hope and optimism were to be found in a bottle, she'd been drinking it. "Perfection can be elusive," he said.
She stopped, obviously flustered. "Sorry. I get carried away at times. Must be the full moon. I should go in now."
Yeah, full moons. A guy could blame a lot on the full moon. Like his taking a step toward her and lifting her chin. He wanted a clear view of those wide, green eyes. "I hope it all works out for you, Evangeline North. I do." And while that full moon had riled up his body and filled his head with the idea of kissing her—really kissing her—he didn't. Instead, he planted an uncle-like kiss on her forehead and stroked her hair.
She shivered. The cool air or his touch?
"You're right, " he said. "You'd better go in."
She nodded, and without a word, walked into her room and closed the door behind her.
Linc let out a long-held breath, went to the phone, and called Natalie. He made a date for the following evening and spent the rest of the night regretting it.
* * *
The next morning, Maud made a huge Sunday breakfast. Cal devoured a half-dozen pancakes in less time than it took to make them. Linc sat at the head of the table with his head buried in the Sunday paper. He'd barely said a word since they'd sat down.
"That was great, Maud. Super great." Cal finally pushed himself away from the table. "I'm stuffed. Totally."
"Thank you. I'm glad you liked it." Maud poured herself coffee and sat down. When Cal started to gather up the dishes, she protested. "You don't need to do that, son. I'll have this coffee and get to it later."
Cal looked at his mother.
"Whatever you think is right, Cal," was all she said.
He looked back at Maud and grinned. "That means she'll pull out all my fingernails if I don't help out."
