He took a deep breath. “Something smells great. Let me go get changed into jeans and then you can tell me all about dinner.”
He left the room before she could ask if it was okay for her to watch him undress. Angela sighed. “For a pregnant woman, you seem to have a one-track mind,” she murmured to herself.
She didn’t remember ever thinking about sex as much as she had in the past three days. She’d even read through a couple of the prenatal books she’d brought with her from Houston. In them the authors had assured the reader that making love was perfectly safe unless the couple had been told otherwise by a doctor. Angela knew she was about as healthy as she could be, so maybe her urges weren’t so unnatural, after all. The problem was, she seemed to be the only one having them. As far as she could tell, Shane wasn’t even thinking about their kiss anymore, let alone wishing they would do it again. Maybe his long sleepless night had gotten it out of his system.
She took a seat in the kitchen to wait for him to return. She knew exactly what was going to happen then, too. She would take one look at him in worn jeans and a long-sleeved flannel shirt and her heart rate would climb to triple digits. It had happened every evening so far, so there was no reason for her to think it would change. The worst of it was, she hated flannel shirts. So why did Shane’s look so good on him?
About two minutes later he walked back into the kitchen. As she’d predicted, her heart kicked into over-drive and her breathing increased. At least she was sitting so she didn’t have to worry about her knees giving way.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said.
It took her a moment to realize he was holding a pile of clean laundry in his hands. Laundry that she’d left on his bed. He wasn’t talking about her overreaction to his flannel shirt.
“You’re here because I invited you,” he told her. “Not to be my housekeeper.”
Angela smiled at him. It was the same friendly, open smile she always gave him, and as usual, it hit him low in the gut. Shane stifled a groan.
“I have to do something to fill my day,” she said. “I’ve never been much for daytime television, so the hours can get pretty long. Beside, a couple of loads of laundry hardly equal your hospitality.”
“You’re cooking, too,” he reminded her.
She was taking care of him. That’s really what had him rattled, he admitted to himself. No one had done that before. While they’d been dating, Mary had gone out of her way to prove that she was an independent woman, and not any man’s slave. They’d never lived together, so there had been no sharing of domestic duties. While he’d been in foster care, most of the mothers had worked at least part-time. He’d been expected to take care of himself and do things such as his own laundry.
“All right, you caught me,” Angela said with a laugh. “I’m paying for my keep with services. Is that so bad?”
He couldn’t answer. Mostly because he had a vision of a different kind of service…one they could perform on each other. An intimate kind of— Don’t go there, he warned himself. It was ten kinds of trouble.
He set the laundry on the far kitchen chair, then pulled out the one next to her and sat. “I guess not. But don’t overtire yourself. You have to think about the baby.”
“I do. Constantly. Look at it this way, Shane. Right after the holiday break in January, I’m going to be teaching full-time. Compared to that, doing a little laundry is nothing.”
He leaned toward her. “You’ll be teaching? You heard from the principal?”
She nodded enthusiastically. Her short hair danced across her forehead. Wide green eyes sparkled with excitement. “She called me today. She told me that she still wanted me for the job. I start the second week of January and work for as long as I can. Then I go back in September.” She pressed her hands together. “It’s perfect. I’m so thrilled.”
“So you’ll be staying in Whitehorn permanently.” The thought pleased him. He hadn’t wanted to think about Angela moving on.
“Once this other business is settled, I’ll find a place of my own. I know I’ve been cutting into your wild bachelor life-style.”
“Oh, sure. Normally I’m out every night.”
Her humor faded. “You should be, Shane. I still don’t understand why you’ve cut yourself off for so long. And don’t bother giving me all that nonsense about not being the kind of man who commits or who’s a good father. Men who are commitment phobic don’t buy houses like this one.”
She had a point, but he wasn’t quite willing to admit that. “Why Whitehorn?” he asked to shift the focus away from himself. “You could have moved anywhere.”
“I know. I wanted a small town where I could belong. That’s been my goal since my mom died—to find a home of my own. I randomly picked three different towns in three different states, then sent away for information. Based on what I received back, I like Whitehorn the best.”
She glanced around the kitchen. “Just look at this place. It’s bright and cheerful, very homey. It’s exactly the kind of house I’ve always wanted. From the little I’ve seen of Whitehorn, I could easily find another house like this.”
He stared at her. She’d stopped wearing a bandage, so the stitches on her temple were clearly visible. The bruises had turned bright purple. But none of that mattered. What he saw was a beautiful woman with a good heart. If she hadn’t been, she wouldn’t have stayed to take care of her brothers and sisters, putting her own dreams on hold. She was smart and nurturing, a born teacher…or mother.
“You have an odd expression on your face. What are you thinking?” she asked.
“That Mary never liked this house. She wanted something bigger.”
Angela’s gaze met his. “Mary was stupid about a lot of things.”
For the first time Shane wondered if Angela was right.
Six
Less than twenty minutes after Shane left on his “boys’ night out” with five-year-old J.J., there was a knock on the front door. Angela had her hand on the dead bolt when she remembered his instructions about not letting anyone in unless she knew them or they could produce identification showing they were with the sheriff’s department. In the nearly two weeks she’d lived with him, no one had come calling.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“Nancy,” a woman answered. “Your neighbor.”
Angela didn’t know whether to laugh or groan. She didn’t need anything to jog her memory. Who could forget the fabulously attractive, leggy brunette who lived next door? She’d seen her outside watering her yard or playing with her children several times over the past week and a half. Even in her scruffiest clothing, she looked like a model on a photo shoot. It was very discouraging.
Angela opened the door. Nancy smiled at her and held out a plate of perfectly iced sugar cookies. “Hi. I’ve been meaning to come by and get to know you, but I wasn’t sure how you were feeling. In my opinion, sugar of any kind heals most female woes.”
“I agree,” Angela said, then wondered if Nancy actually ever ate food. Or maybe she was one of those disgusting people who stayed thin regardless of what she consumed. “Come on in. Shane just left, but as he took your son with him, you already know that.”
Nancy walked into the house with the ease of someone who had been a guest many times in the past. “Isn’t it great?” she said as she led the way to the kitchen. “He and J.J. have always been close. Belinda is spending the night with my mom and Jerry, my husband, is working late, so I thought I’d take a chance that you’d like a little company.” She paused in the middle of the kitchen. “I should confess that I have an ulterior motive for being here, though.” Her smile broadened. “I plan to pump you shamelessly for gossip about your relationship with Shane.”
“Pump away,” Angela said, motioning to the table by the large window. “There’s not much to tell.”
She walked to the counter and poured Nancy coffee from the pot, then got herself a glass of milk. As she crossed the floor to take a seat opposite her guest, she tried not to notice
how Nancy’s shoulder-length curls caught the light, or her perfect face with its big eyes and pouty mouth. She was definitely not going to acknowledge the other woman’s incredible figure. Angela suddenly felt as if the slight rounding of her stomach had grown until her belly was the size of a watermelon. Then she sighed. It wasn’t Nancy’s fault she was so physically amazing.
Nancy leaned forward and rested one perfectly manicured hand on the table. “I didn’t even know Shane was dating anyone, let alone to the point of having you move in.” Her gaze dropped to Angela’s stomach, but she didn’t say anything about the pregnancy. “I thought we were close enough to talk about most things, but I guess I was wrong. At first I was really hurt by that, but then I decided that the most important thing was Shane’s happiness. After what happened with his fiancée, he shut himself away for a year, then he dated for a while. But recently he’s been Mr. Reclusive. I’m just glad he’s found someone to care about him.”
Angela stared at her. What was she supposed to say? “I thought Shane had told you why I was here.”
Nancy frowned. “He said you were a friend who had been attacked by those men who kidnapped that poor little girl. He was keeping you here until you’d recovered.” She motioned to Angela’s still fading bruises. “Those look a lot better than they did when you arrived.”
“I feel better,” Angela said slowly. “Everything Shane told you about his relationship with me is true. So why would you think that we’re involved?”
Nancy grabbed a cookie and took a bite. “Because there’s no other reason he would invite someone to live in his house. Shane isn’t the most social guy on the planet. I’m not saying he’s weird or anything, but he’s a typical male who kind of keeps to himself. He resists getting involved until it feels right. From what he’s told me, he went so slow with Mary that he almost lost her. I remember him mentioning they had nearly a month of dating before he even kissed her good-night. Shane is many wonderful things, but he’s not impulsive when it comes to women.”
Angela did her best to keep her face impassive. Was Nancy telling the truth? But why would Shane’s friend lie? Still, her description of Shane was nothing like the man Angela knew. Shane was impulsive—the fact that he’d invited her to stay here, not to mention their kiss last week, proved that.
“So, tell me everything,” Nancy said. “Start with your first date and spill as many details as you’re comfortable with. Although I have to warn you, I’m going to ask tons of questions.” She finished her cookie. “I still can’t believe that man kept me in the dark about this.” She shook her head. “Would you like to go to dinner with my husband and me? Maybe we can pick a night next week. I have several great sitters right here in the neighborhood, so leaving the kids isn’t a problem. In fact sometime I think those little munchkins are thrilled when we leave them behind. I know they get spoiled rotten, regardless of who stays with them.”
Angela stared at her, then blinked. “I don’t know what question to answer first.”
Nancy laughed. “I know. I talk too much. Jerry tells me that all the time. Just tell me about you and Shane and I’ll be quiet.”
Angela felt a sharp pain in her chest. At first she wasn’t sure what it was, then she realized it was longing. She wanted to tell Nancy that she and Shane were a couple. She wanted to share girl-talk about how they’d met and their first date. She wanted to confess details about their planned future. Because even though she’d only known him for a short time, she’d already come to see that he was everything she’d ever wanted in a man. Except he wasn’t really interested in her.
Oh, sure, he’d kissed her, but that didn’t mean anything significant. It had been a reaction to the moment, and apparently something he hadn’t had any trouble not doing again. It had been almost a week and there hadn’t been a single repeat of the kiss. The morning after, when he’d confessed his attraction, she’d allowed herself to hope there might be a chance of something between them. But since then she’d decided that he must have just been being kind.
“There’s nothing to tell,” Angela said quietly. “Shane and I aren’t an item.” She recounted the story of her attack and how she’d awakened to find Shane in her hospital room. “When it was time for me to leave the hospital, he brought me here so I would be safe.”
Nancy’s gaze settled on her stomach. “So the baby isn’t his.”
“No. I’m a widow. My husband and I had separated for some time before his death. There was a brief reconciliation—” She pressed her lips together. “No, that’s wrong. I’m trying to make it prettier than it was. He came by one night and I was lonely. I let him stay.”
Nancy picked up her mug of coffee and held it in both hands. “I understand completely. Jerry and I bought our house shortly after we were married. Shane moved in a couple of years later. He was engaged to Mary and excited about getting married and starting a family. Then she left and he was pretty destroyed. Six months later, I had my first baby.”
She looked at Angela and shrugged. “Jerry and I were both young. We didn’t handle the stress very well. When J.J. was about six months old, Jerry and I separated for a time. He moved out. The days were really long without him and I was lonely. I’d gained a lot of weight, I thought I was an ugly cow, and here was this attractive, single guy living next door.”
Angela sensed what she was going to say, even before she said it. The pain in her chest sharpened. Jealousy, she thought, which was crazy. She didn’t know Shane well enough to be jealous, yet she was.
“One night, after fortifying myself with wine, I came over here and tried to seduce Shane,” Nancy said softly. “He was very sweet, but very firm. He said to get my butt back to my house and try to fix things with my husband. I found out later that he’d called Jerry after I left and read him the riot act. Basically Shane told him he was a fool to lose the best wife and kid any man ever had and if he didn’t fix things with me, then Shane was going to give my phone number to all his single friends.”
Her pain eased a little and Angela was able to nod and even smile. “He was a good friend to you both.”
“The best,” Nancy said. “Jerry and I started talking. We went into counseling and within two months, he’d moved back. Our marriage is stronger than ever, and all because of Shane. So you can see that we both owe him. I’ve been waiting and waiting for the right woman to come along.”
Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t talked to any of her friends in Houston for a long time, or maybe it was that Nancy had just shared something very personal. For whatever reason, Angela found herself wanting to tell this woman the truth.
“If you’re trying to hint that Shane is one of the good guys,” Angela said, “I already know that. To be honest, he’s about the best man I’ve ever met. But he’s not going to be interested in me.”
“Whyever not?”
Angela laughed, but the sound was faintly strangled. “Look at me. I’m pregnant with another man’s child. It’s possible that my late husband might have been involved with something illegal, I don’t know. I’ve barely arrived in Whitehorn, so I don’t have any friends or family here. I have very little to offer someone like Shane.”
Nancy leaned close and covered Angela’s hand with her own. “First of all, you do have friends. I consider myself one and I hope you feel the same. Second, you’re not still mourning your husband and you’re not responsible for his mistakes. Shane is going to understand that. Finally, Shane is the kind of man to care more about a woman’s future than her past. From what I can see, he’s already bent his own particular rules and let you into his life. Don’t discount that. And don’t let fear keep you from reaching out for someone very special.”
“You don’t know how much I want what you’re saying to be true.”
“So believe me.” Nancy squeezed her hand, then released her. “Oh, and you might try seducing him. It didn’t work for me, but I have a feeling that you’ll do much better in that department.”
Angela grimaced.
“Yeah, right. Look at us. If he didn’t want you, what makes you think he’ll want me?”
Nancy’s expression turned knowing. “I’ve seen the look on his face when he talks about you. The man has it bad.”
Hope took the place of the pain in her chest—a hope that burned as bright as a shooting star. With Tom she thought she’d found what she’d been looking for, but she’d been wrong. Was she going to get a second chance at love? Did Shane really think she was attractive and was he willing to overlook the fact that she carried another man’s child?
“If you don’t ask, you’ll never know,” Nancy told her.
“I had the best time, Uncle Shane,” J.J. said as he gave Shane a hug.
“Me, too, kid.” Shane set the boy on the ground and winked at Nancy. “I only let him have one beer tonight and we kept the cussing to a minimum.”
J.J. giggled, then waved his new toy truck in the air. “I wanna show Daddy what Uncle Shane won for me.”
Nancy pointed to the rear of the house. “He’s watching the basketball game in the family room, but don’t get too involved, J.J. It’s a school night and you have to be in bed in fifteen minutes.”
“Basketball!” J.J. yelled as he ran out of the room.
Nancy motioned for Shane to take a seat in the living room, but he shook his head. “I’ve got to get home. I just wanted to tell you that everything went great.”
“It always does.” She studied his face. “It’s time to stop pretending, young man. Quit being a part-time father to my kids and go make some of your own.”
Shane stiffened. Although they’d had this same conversation on and off for the past four years, this time things were different. This time he’d begun to hope it might be possible.
He knew it was crazy. He knew that he and Angela didn’t know enough about each other, yet nothing had ever felt so right. But he’d thought that about Mary and he’d been wrong. Eight years in different foster homes had taught him how hard things could get.
A Montana Mavericks Christmas Page 6
