by Joan Kilby
“Do you know anyone around here named Chernoff?”
“No, never heard of that name locally.” Her mother eyed her over the rim of her coffee cup. “I noticed a pair of men’s trunks on the veranda railing yesterday. Zoe’s still in Grand Fork.”
“Alex came over for a swim.”
“Is he the guy in the sports car?”
“Yep.” The toast popped. Emma started to spread on honey. She could feel her mother wanting to ask more questions but she resisted elaborating.
Nothing was going to come of this ‘friendship’ or whatever it was. Alex had kissed her, yes, but she wasn’t taking it further, no matter how tempting the prospect. He was turning out to be more complicated than she’d initially thought. She got a sense he had bigger fish to fry in Cherry Lake than a flirtation with a hometown girl. To him, she was a distraction from his real problems, whatever they were.
“Be careful,” her mom said, brushing crumbs off her hands onto her plate. “Men like that use women and then throw them away like a soiled tissue.”
“Not if I use him first,” Emma said cheerfully and bit into her toast. She enjoyed shocking her mother even if she was just bluffing. She was too much of a chicken shit to try to get the better of Alex in a game of romance.
“Emma Jean!” Her mom’s jaw dropped predictably. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m twenty-eight years old, mom. I’ve been studying and working my butt off for years. What have I got to show for it in my personal life?” When she heard the slight bitterness in her voice she realized a grain of truth was coming out.
“A good job, a decent car,” her mom said. “Security—”
“Security doesn’t keep me warm at night.” All her life she’d worn those sensible shoes and until Alex she hadn’t thought twice about it. She wanted more. Oh, not Alex because he wasn’t a good bet and she wasn’t stupid but she wanted…something. “Zoe thinks I should live a little, have some excitement—”
“Zoe isn’t as trusting and soft-hearted as you are, Em,” her mom said. “She’s got an armor on her that hardened when your daddy left. You were too young to know any better.”
As usual the conversation had segued to her mom’s warnings about trusting men. Emma put down her half-eaten toast. “You took a chance on handsome men.”
“And look what happened.”
“You got Zoe and me. It wasn’t all bad, was it?”
“You girls are my pride and joy. But I struggled for years and cried myself to sleep more times than I like to admit.” Karen bit her lip. “I worry about you and Zoe. Your sister doesn’t listen to a word I say but you used to.”
Emma took pity. “I was just pulling your leg. I’m not about to leap into a casual affair. Nothing’s happening between me and Alex. He’s only in Cherry Lake for a week, max.”
“Good, because I don’t want you hurt.” Her mother gave Emma a hug. “Enjoy spending time with him if that’s what you want. But don’t give your heart away.”
“I have no intention of that. My heart belongs to Cherry Lake.”
“If you’ve got spare time you could work on the tea towels and aprons for our stall at the festival.” Her mom nodded at the stack of cherry appliquéd cloth items next to the sewing machine that she and Zoe had been working on for months. All profits went to a women’s shelter in Billings.
Emma made a face. Not even a worthy cause could induce her to sew voluntarily, a task even more daunting than cooking, in her opinion. “I’ll help out in the stall but you’d be better off hiring a trained monkey than trusting me to sew a straight seam.”
She forestalled any further discussion with a pointed glance at the clock. “I’ll get dressed then drive you over. On my way home I’ll stop at Damon’s garage and talk to him about fixing your car.”
Her windshield wipers swished away the light rain on the drive through town to the Lake View Motor Inn. She pulled into the big circular drive and drove around the back to the housekeeping office. A trolley loaded with folded clean linen, towels and toiletries waited outside on the concrete path beneath the overhanging roof.
“Lisa’s here already,” her mom said, referring to her assistant. She gathered up her purse and bag lunch. “Thanks.”
“See you later,” Emma said. “Call if you need a ride home.”
“I’ll see if Margery can take me back.” Her mom got out and ran for the open door, her flat black purse shielding her head from the rain.
Emma pulled away slowly, her gaze seeking a shiny silver sports car. It wasn’t at the double story units… Ah, there it was, down by the lake, next to the last cabin in the row. Will must have let him know not to come in this morning because of the rain.
She checked her watch. Eight a.m. She could go hang out at the Cherry Pit and have coffee for half an hour until Robert was at the realty office. If he was well enough to come in to work today, that is.
Instead, inexplicably after what she’d told her mom, she found herself knocking on Alex’s door. No answer. Maybe he was still sleeping. Bracing a hand on the doorframe she pressed her ear to the door and listened for footsteps or dishes, running water, anything to indicate he was awake and up.
The door opened so suddenly she overbalanced and fell against him. His arms closed around her. She got an impression of clean cotton, hard muscles, warmth, strength and aftershave with subtle woodsy notes.
He hauled her upright, eyes twinkling. “A little early for spying on the tourists, isn’t it?”
Emma disengaged from his embrace and took a step back, tugged down her top. Heat flushed her cheeks. “I was listening to see if you were up. I don’t want to disturb.”
“Hence the knock.”
“You’ve been up for a while.” The imprint of his warm hands seemed to have branded her bare arms. And she had the urge to press her face into his shirt and breathe more of his delicious scent. To her horror she could feel her nipples pebble. She crossed her arms but that only made things worse by pushing her breasts up and out. “I dropped my mom off at work and thought I’d let you know that there’s no picking this morning.”
“Will called.” He gestured inside. “Want to come in? I can offer you instant coffee.”
She bet he could offer her something a whole lot more tempting if he wanted to. He seemed to have the same thought and for a moment the air between them shimmered. “Or you could join me for a latte at the diner.”
“Now you’re talking.” He grabbed his car keys off the table next to the window and shoved his feet into leather sandals. “I could use breakfast, too. I forgot to get in supplies.”
“My car or yours?” she asked as they left the cabin. They could take both but where was the fun in that?
“That’s not even up for discussion.” He unlocked his car and opened the door for her. “I need to tank up, anyway.”
The powerful purr of the engine thrummed up her spine and into her breast bone as he pulled out of the motel driveway onto the lake road. She almost felt like Zoe, riding around town with the top down and the wind in her hair.
“Don’t go there,” she said as he signaled to enter Reg’s service station across from the motor inn. “Go to Damon’s garage on Main and Fourth. He’s cheaper. And better,” she added because Alex probably didn’t care about price when it came to his car.
While he filled up, she told Damon about her mom’s car.
“I’ve got a used starter motor in the shop,” he said. “I could stop in after I finish work and install it for her. I go right past her place on my way home.”
“Thanks, I’ll let her know.” Emma waved to Jess, standing in the doorway to the station.
Then, seeing Damon move across to talk to Alex about his car, she decided to go say hi to her old school friend. Noting the sparkling windows and freshly cleaned surfaces, Emma said, “I love what you’ve done with the place. I can actually see the color of the counter now. Who knew it was red with black flecks? I always thought it was plain black.”
Jess laughed and twirled a blonde curl around her finger. “Gotta earn my keep around here or Damon’ll let me go.”
“He’d be nuts to,” Emma said. “This place has never looked so good.”
Pink flooded Jess’s cheeks. “You don’t think I’m going to stay in this two-bit town forever, do you? I’m just here till summer’s over then I’m outta here.”
“That’s too bad. It’d be nice having you around. I might be moving back soon.” She tugged on her braid, dying to tell someone about the house. It would make it more real but also might jinx her. She might be a scientist but she had a strong superstitious streak.
“Thanks, but I don’t know…” Jess traced a manicured thumbnail along the edge of the Formica counter. “Hey, are you going to the a dance this Saturday at the Montreau? Jacie’s done an awesome job of renovating the upstairs and the owners have offered the festival organizers the use of the lobby.”
“Cool.” Emma picked up a roll of mints from the display and put it down again. “I can’t believe she has a nine-year-old daughter. It seems like only yesterday we were all graduating from high school.”
“I know.” Jess sighed. “So much has happened in between. Some days I feel like a hundred years old.”
Emma touched her arm. “I don’t know if I ever got a chance to say, but I’m really sorry about your husband.”
“Thanks.” Jess looked so grateful that Emma felt bad she’d never offered her condolences before. “We weren’t actually married.”
Emma shrugged. “Partners, then. Same thing.”
“Speaking of partners…” Jess glanced out the window to where Alex was showing Damon under the hood of his car. “Is that your boyfriend? He’s hot.”
Emma felt the heat creep into her cheeks and snorted to cover her embarrassment. “As if. He’s a hot shot marketing guy from Seattle amusing himself by taking a vacation in the country and picking cherries with the hicks.”
Immediately she felt bad for disparaging him to Jess. It was one thing to scoff at him in her mind as self-defense but to say mean things aloud to someone else wasn’t right. “He’s a good worker, though. And a good swimmer.” Good kisser. “Pretty nice guy, really, for a city fella.” She leaned closer. “Don’t tell him I said that, though. Or he’ll get all smug.”
Jess’s blue eyes twinkled. “Bring him to the dance on Saturday.”
Emma’s gaze drifted back to Alex, his long legs akimbo, his arms crossed across his chest as he listened, a slight frown on his face, to whatever Damon was telling him about the engine. Bring him to the dance? That would constitute a date. A deliberate intention to spend time together at a social event. In public. With everyone wondering how two such mismatched people had gotten together. Maybe pitying her because he would be bound to leave her in the lurch. Like her father left her mother. No one would believe she wasn’t interested in him romantically. Okay, she would admit to sexual attraction. She’d have to be blind and half-dead not to feel Alex’s animal pull. But romance? Not a chance. She was her mother’s daughter, after all, and knew better.
“He might not be in town on the weekend,” Emma said. Outside, Alex closed the hood and wiped his fingers on a paper towel from the dispenser attached to the pump. “Looks like they’re done. I’d better go.”
“Maybe I’ll see you at the Jacksons’ on Friday,” Jess said. “They’re putting on a barbecue for the pickers and have invited the family.”
“Probably. Nice talking to you.” Emma smiled in farewell and went out as Alex came in to pay. Damon had returned to working on a car inside the service bay so she paced aimlessly outside while she waited for Alex. Hearing him chatting to Jess through the open door she felt a pang of jealousy. Jess was so pretty. Any guy would be interested in flirting with her—
God, what was wrong with her? She kicked one of his tires in frustration. She didn’t usually feel insecure about herself. She was no beauty but that didn’t bother her. She had plenty of good qualities—brains, bravery and resilience, not to mention physical strength and agility. Hm, she sounded a bit like a hunting dog. A laugh at her own expense ended the moment of angst.
And then she noticed something. Alex wasn’t flirting with Jess. He was suggesting that Damon should have a sign with his name on it and the name of the garage prominently displayed. Jess wasn’t flirting either, just quietly asking questions about advertising options and what worked best.
Was Emma nuts or what? Alex had her all twisted inside out, behaving like a jealous fool. Not because of anything he did, just because of who he was. Did she have the guts to ask him to the dance? Or would he scorn a small town shindig and a date who looked like Pippi Longstocking on a bad hair day?
Alex came back and they got back in the car. While Alex idled at the exit, waiting to enter the street, Robert drove past in his white SUV.
“Oh,” Emma said involuntarily. “I need to talk to him.” She glanced across at Alex. His hands had tightened to white knuckles on the wheel and a muscle ticked in his tight jaw.
“I need to talk to him, too.” Alex pulled out after Robert. “Where would he be going, do you know?”
“To his realty office. Take a right on Swan Street and it’s on the left about half a block up.” She paused. “I’m glad to see he’s feeling better this morning. Mind you, nothing short of a stroke would stop him from going to work.”
Alex put his indicator on and followed Robert around the corner. “What are you talking to him about, if I might ask?”
She threw him a shrewd glance. “You go first.”
“Mine’s personal.”
“So’s mine.” She didn’t feel like explaining she didn’t have enough money to put a down payment on a house to a man who must have paid a hundred grand for a car.
Stalemate.
Robert slowed and turned into a lane that led behind the realty office. Alex went past the lane and pulled into a diagonal parking spot on the street. He turned to Emma. “How long are you going to be?”
“Half an hour. I might have to come back later.”
He drummed the wheel. “Okay. Go ahead.”
“How long will you be?”
“Could be two minutes. Could be two hours.”
“O-kay. That’s a pretty big range.” Through the office window she could see Robert talking to his receptionist, Teri. “He might have an appointment with someone else for all we know. Why don’t I go in and ask him about my thing? If he can help me now, you could come along and nab him when I’m done. If he’s busy we can both arrange a time to see him later.”
“Sounds reasonable.” Alex paused. “Does he work regular hours here? How does he manage that with the orchard?”
“He divides his time. He started the realty when Will went to work full time in the orchard just to have another finger in the community pie.” She unbuckled her seat belt. “Right, I’m going in. Wish me luck.”
“Do you need luck?” He eyed her curiously.
“Yeah, I kind of do.” She got out and then poked her head back in. “Do you want me to tell him you’re out here? Or is the matter…delicate?”
He thought for a moment. “You can tell him. But…” Something passed across his face. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to Will or Linda or the girls.”
Wow, that was an admission of something, she wasn’t sure what. Also an acknowledgement of a level of trust. “Sure. You can count on me.”
*
Alex was too restless to sit in the car after Emma went inside so he checked out house listings in the window, hunching his shoulders against the drizzle. Properties ranged from super cheap to multi-million dollar. There was a nice ranch house on the outskirts of town with a view of the lake. For a moment he allowed himself to fantasize—reconciling with his father, becoming part of the Jackson family, spending summers in Cherry Lake, taking part in the harvest…
Seeing Emma.
Really? Back in Seattle he wouldn’t walk across the street to see her. Oh,
she was pretty in a wholesome, homespun way. And kissing her had given him a surprising jolt. He found himself thinking about her—a lot. But probably that was simply because she was different. When you’re not with the girl you love, love the girl you’re with, yada, yada…
Except that he didn’t love anyone. Looking past the photo of a house, he saw his reflection in the window and it seemed to be that of a little lost boy.
He shook his head and cleared the vision from his brain. Ridiculous. He was Alex Chernoff, partner in Marketing Strategies, Ltd. He didn’t have time to go looking for love. When the time was right, he’d meet a woman with similar interests and values, a woman who would fit into his lifestyle.
Until then he was fine being a lone wolf.
His stomach growled. A hungry wolf. A glance at his watch told him it was after nine. Confronting his father on an empty stomach didn’t appeal. The diner was just around the corner. He could get a couple of breakfast sandwiches and coffee for himself and Emma and be back in minutes.
He turned away from the window and bumped into a seventyish woman with long gray hair juggling an umbrella, a big purple purse and a bulging shopping bag. In her flowing Batik skirt and peasant style top she looked like an aging hippie but was surprisingly—well, sexy might be overstating it—but she was attractive for a woman her age.
He put out a hand to steady her. “Sorry. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She glanced up from her shopping bag and did a double take. “Oh, my.” Then she blinked and peered at him then gave a breathy laugh. “Seeing you, for a moment I thought I was thirty years younger!”
“If only I was thirty years older,” he said gallantly.
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean that. It’s just that you look like—” She cast a glance at the realty office and gave him another shrewd look. “Never mind.” She held out her hand. “I’m Pansy Oppenheimer but everyone calls me Aunt Pan.”
“Alex. Nice to meet you, Ms. Oppenheimer.” There was no way he was calling a complete stranger Aunt Pan.
