“I thought maybe the two of you...” He allowed the suggestion to trail off, then waited expectantly.
Ken hesitated, then admitted, “We have been out a couple of times. She was here with us for Thanksgiving yesterday.”
“Perfect. I knew first time I met you that the two of you would get along. Tried my darnedest to figure out a way to make it happen, but matchmaking schemes aren’t exactly my bailiwick and my wife Corinne flatly refused to meddle. Then when you called last month, well, it just seemed like everything was falling into place.”
“How much do you know about Beth?” Ken asked.
“Not much about the time before she came here. She doesn’t say too much about her past. I’ve always been a believer in looking at what a person’s made of now and not worrying too much about how they got that way.” He laughed. “Just look at me. Forty years ago, I was nobody’s idea of a good bet. Corinne was the only woman brave enough to take a chance on me. As for Beth, I could see right off that the lady was all class. Maybe a little on the quiet side, but definitely all class.”
Ken wasn’t about to argue with that assessment, but he needed more. “So you don’t know anything about her marriage,” he said.
“Marriage?” Chet sounded genuinely astounded. “Hell, I didn’t even know she’d been married. Well, I’ll be darned. Is that a problem for you?”
“Of course not. I just get the feeling it is for her, but she won’t talk about it.”
“Well, I’ll be darned,” Chet said, still sounding stunned. “You know that friend of hers, Gillie Townsend?”
“Beth has spoken of her. We haven’t met.”
“Then I’d say a meeting is past due. She’s usually down at Lou’s after she drops her kids off at school. Fact is, I think one of her kids is about the same age as your daughter, so you’ll surely be getting to know her. My guess is that she knows Beth as well as anyone around these parts.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ken said, trying to imagine himself going up to a total stranger and pumping her for information about a woman with whom he’d already been intimate. He doubted he could pull it off.
If the two women were as close as Chet had surmised, Gillie might know about his relationship with Beth and tell him to ask Beth directly, if there was something he wanted to know. If she didn’t know about him, he would feel thoroughly underhanded. More important, Beth would probably string him up if she ever found out about it. And there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she would discover he’d been asking questions. Her best friend wouldn’t keep that information a secret.
“Listen, Ken,” Chet said, breaking into his thoughts. “Corinne’s been busting my chops ever since I got on the phone to invite you to dinner tomorrow night. You free?”
“I’d love to come.”
“You want to ask Beth?”
“To tell you the truth, Chet, I’m not at all sure she’d agree to come with me.”
“Mind if we ask her, then?”
Ken couldn’t help chuckling at how pitiful he’d become, allowing someone else to arrange his dates for him. It was a darn good thing Claude didn’t know about this. Ken would never hear the end of it.
“Ask her,” he said. “Maybe I’ll call her later and offer to give her a lift. Surely she wouldn’t refuse a neighborly gesture like that.”
“Surely,” Chet agreed heartily. “Seven o’clock?”
“Sounds good. Tell Corinne I’m looking forward to seeing all the things she brought back from the trip.”
“Lordy, son, don’t say that. We’ll never get dinner on the table. Now if you want to take a look at my pictures—”
“On second thought...”
“Traitor,” he accused, laughing. “See you tomorrow, son. We’ll be looking forward to it.”
Ken knew Chet would waste no time tracking Beth down. Nor did he doubt for a minute that the older man could talk her into coming to a dinner party. It remained to be seen, though, whether his own powers of persuasion would be equally successful. He waited until that evening to call.
“Beth, it’s Ken.”
“Oh, hello,” she said, sounding cautious. “Is something wrong?”
He decided to ignore her assumption that he wouldn’t call unless there was a problem. He also decided not to give her a chance to refuse his offer to pick her up for the dinner party. Didn’t women tend to respond to confidence in a man? Or had that changed in the years since he’d been out of the dating scene?
“I just wanted to let you know I’d be by about six-thirty tomorrow to pick you up,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Six-thirty? Tomorrow?”
“That’s right. You are going to Chet’s, aren’t you?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“I told him I’d pick you up.”
“You...told...him,” she began, enunciating every word very carefully.
Ken grinned. She was royally ticked, all right. Hallelujah! He’d rather have her screaming at him than sinking into that quiet sadness he’d witnessed all too often. “Sure. I don’t mind. You’re not a bit out of my way.”
“You don’t mind,” she said, her voice climbing.
“Is there a problem?” he inquired, injecting a note of innocence into his voice.
“Yes, there’s a problem. First, I had no idea you’d even been invited. Second, I certainly had no idea you would dare to assume you would be my date. Third...”
She seemed at a loss to come up with anything else. Ken bit back a chuckle. “Third?” he prompted.
“Third, you are making me crazy.”
He could no longer hold back the laughter.
“What’s so damn funny?” she snapped irritably.
“You. You’re fighting the inevitable, sweetheart.”
“There’s nothing inevitable about any of this and I am not your sweetheart. I am not your anything!”
“I suppose that’s a matter of perspective,” he conceded thoughtfully. “It’s how I think of you, but perhaps you haven’t quite gotten to that stage yet.”
Beth heaved a sigh. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Chasing after something that just can’t be. Anyway, I thought you were furious with me.”
“I was. It didn’t last. The truth is, Ms. Callahan, I find you perplexing, frustrating, irritating and incredibly attractive.”
“Most of those weren’t even good traits,” she noted pointedly.
“I know. Just shows you how perverse I can be. So, do we have a date or not?”
“We absolutely, positively do not have a date,” she said very distinctly.
“Oh,” he said, defeated.
“But you may pick me up at six-thirty.”
He sucked in a deep breath and tried not to shout for joy. “See you then,” he said, and hurriedly hung up before he lost even a sliver of the tiny bit of ground he’d gained.
* * *
This dinner party was a mistake, Beth thought as she pulled on a simple red wool dress, added diamond stud earrings and slipped into a pair of heels. Actually, the dinner wasn’t the problem. She adored Chet and Corinne. It was the drive to and from that promised to be exasperating and dangerous.
She still didn’t understand why Ken was so persistent in the face of her obvious reluctance to get more deeply involved with him. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that she’d already slept with him, she thought wryly. Maybe he figured that suggested they were already pretty seriously involved. Maybe he figured that had meant something to her.
And maybe he was right, she conceded wearily. It had meant something. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t forget about it, if she tried hard enough. She just had to keep her distance, which was absolutely not possible in a cozy car on a starli
t night unless she rode in the back seat. She doubted he’d go for that, not without an explanation. And telling him she was scared to death to be near him would create more problems than it would solve.
She paced through the house tidying up things that didn’t need to be tidied. When the doorbell finally rang, promptly at six-thirty, she jumped as if it had been a gunshot. After one last glance in the hallway mirror, she opened the door. She took one look at Ken and her jaw went slack.
Oh, dear Heaven. It was the first time she had ever seen him all dressed up in a suit and tie. Obviously he knew how Corinne felt about dressing up for dinner. He was wearing a wool overcoat that looked as if it had cost twice the commission she was likely to make on the restoration of his house. Though it was obvious he’d carefully blown his hair dry in a neat style, it was already sexily tousled by the wind.
“You look...” she began.
“You look...” he said at the same time.
“Fantastic,” they said in a murmured chorus.
He grinned. “I guess it’s unanimous. We’re going to knock ’em dead.”
Beth flushed with pleasure and tried valiantly to ignore the way the gleam in his eyes made her feel. It was amazing that with one glance he could boost her self-confidence as a woman to new heights. If only it were as easy to restore her self-esteem as a mother.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Chet was a lavish, thoughtful host, as always. Corinne’s dinner was superb. But it was Ken’s quiet attentiveness that kept Beth glowing with an undeniable inner heat and a sense of expectation. Alone, with just the two of them, she dared to think that anything was possible. At least for this one night.
Being with Ken, feeling his body harden in response to her touch, breathing in the clean, masculine scent of him, giving herself to him until they were both crying out with the sheer exhilaration of their passion...
Those were the things she wanted, she finally admitted to herself. Those were the things she imagined on the quiet drive home. The images were so vivid that her pulse raced and her blood sizzled in anticipation.
In the soft glow of an old-fashioned streetlamp, Ken cut the engine and turned to her. His gaze locked with hers until she was trembling, wishing with every fiber that he would close the distance between them. He reached across and gently trailed a finger across her lips and left them quivering. The sensation ricocheted all the way through her.
“I want you,” he said softly.
Beth swallowed hard. “I want you,” she confessed.
“Then why is this so damn complicated?”
“It’s not,” she protested, even though she knew far more than he exactly how complicated it was. An admission, though, she knew with absolute certainty, would cost her dearly. She would lose not just the future, but tonight. This breathless moment.
“When I hold you or touch you, it’s not,” he agreed. “But all the other times...” His gaze studied her sorrowfully. “All the other times, you keep such distance between us.”
“I didn’t put it there.”
“Then who did?”
Your daughter, she wanted to scream. Your little girl.
But she kept silent, because to say it would invite questions for which she had no answers.
Ken’s eyes filled with something that might have been dismay. “There it is again,” he said wearily. “The sadness. I can’t know what to do about it, if you won’t tell me what’s causing it.”
Tears of quiet despair pooled in her eyes, then spilled down her cheeks. “You couldn’t fix it, if you knew,” she said bleakly, opening the car door and stepping into the frigid night air that instantly froze the tears on her cheeks. She simply couldn’t bear to tell him what a failure she had been as a mother. Right now he might be confused about why she had withdrawn from him, but at least he saw her as a complete woman. She had his respect. If he knew everything, nothing would change...except the way he looked at her. She wasn’t sure she could bear that.
Even though she knew that parting now was best, all the way to the house she prayed he would follow. She listened for the car door, but heard nothing until, at last, the engine turned over and he slowly pulled away, the tires crunching on the ice.
* * *
Chelsea stood in the middle of her bedroom on Monday morning and pitched a tantrum that had Delores near tears and Ken ready to pack everything and head back to Washington.
“I won’t go! I won’t,” she screamed, taking off school clothes as fast as Delores could dress her in them.
Ken’s patience finally snapped, but somehow by the grace of God he managed to remain calm. “Delores, I’ll handle this,” he said finally. He figured this was one crisis he couldn’t hand off to anyone else.
She regarded him worriedly. “Ken, maybe it would be better if—”
“No, it’s okay. You go downstairs and put breakfast on the table. I want Chelsea to have a nice hot meal before she goes off to her first day of school here.”
Delores nodded and left. Chelsea watched him warily, tears pooling in her eyes and streaking down her flushed cheeks.
“I won’t go,” she whispered, chin wobbling.
“Okay, let’s talk about this.” He held out his arms, but his daughter stood stiffly right where she was. Obviously she’d gotten her stubborn streak from him. “Why don’t you want to go to school?”
“Because...”
“Not good enough. Because why?”
Huge eyes that could break a father’s heart stared back at him. “Because I don’t know...anybody...here.” The words were punctuated by renewed sobs.
Ken sighed. “Shortstuff, the only way you’ll make new friends here is by going to school. Remember when you went to school for the very first time? You didn’t know anybody then either. First thing you knew you had lots of friends.”
“That was different.”
“Different how?”
Tiny shoulders heaved. “Mmm... Mmm... Mommy went with me.”
His own tears clogging his throat, Ken reached for Chelsea and this time she didn’t resist. She clung to him with all of her seven-year-old strength. “Sweetie, I’m going to go with you today. And I won’t leave you there alone until you tell me it’s okay. I promise.”
She sniffed and regarded him distrustfully. “Really?”
“Absolutely.”
“And if I want to come back home?”
He shook his head at that. “Sorry. That’s not an option. So, how about it? Do we have a deal?”
“You won’t go until I say so?” she said one more time.
“No. I promise.”
She considered that thoughtfully, then finally nodded. “I guess that would be okay.”
Two hours later, just as Ken had anticipated, Chelsea was caught up in the second grade class’s activities and paying absolutely no attention to him. When it was time for a juice break and recess, she ran over and said with an air of grown-up nonchalance. “You can go now.”
He grinned at her. “Having fun?”
“It’s not like my old school, but it’s okay, I guess.”
He gave her a quick hug. “I’m glad. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
Not until he was walking back to his car did he finally allow himself a moment to savor a major parenting victory. If only he could solve the dilemma he was facing with Beth as easily.
* * *
The next week was hell. Just as Beth came to accept that Ken would rarely stay in the house while she was there, Beth slowly grew used to finding Chelsea peering at her from the doorway to Ken’s office the minute she came in the door from school. As painful as it was, she came to expect the child to shadow her as she put the finishing touches on each room. Chelsea rarely said a word and neither did Beth. But Chelsea’s apparent loneliness since her grandmother
had returned to Washington spoke volumes. If she was making new friends at school, there was no sign of them at home. Ken had hired a housekeeper, but Chelsea seemed to distrust her even more than she did Beth.
Beth’s heart ached every time she looked into Chelsea’s sad, expectant eyes, but she steeled herself against the reaction. She would not lower her defenses. She would not love this child, who wielded such power over her father’s life. She didn’t dare.
The tantrums helped. They were frequent enough and disturbing enough to strengthen Beth’s resolve. Those tantrums were just more demonstrative expressions of the same hateful behavior she’d experienced with Josh and Stephanie. She was sure if Chelsea could have run away from home, she would have. If she had been old enough to think of being sneakily spiteful, Beth was sure she would have done that, too.
Instead Chelsea’s sabotage was less sophisticated and more open. She stole into the room whenever she sensed that Beth and Ken were sharing an all-too-rare quiet moment that excluded her. Not content that her presence alone was interruption enough, she usually managed to break something or spill something or demand attention in some other way that required an immediate response or punishment. Beth recognized that Ken was at his wit’s end, but so was she. She’d bitten her tongue so often this past week, she was surprised the tip was still attached. It was ironic, too. Chelsea was trying to spoil a relationship that was already dead.
“Can I help?” Chelsea asked in a small voice after watching Beth put the hooks into the drapes for the living room.
“Sure,” Beth said, reluctant to include her, but just as uneasy with saying no. She couldn’t bring herself to be mean to this child, no matter the cost to herself. Every time she looked into Chelsea’s face, she saw the man she loved.
To her dismay, Chelsea settled right beside her, her little body snuggled close as she tried to mimic Beth’s actions. Beth breathed in the little girl scent of her, the mix of shampoo and lotion and freshly ironed clothes. Her fingers suddenly became all thumbs as she fought to resist the urge to hug the child who so desperately needed to be reassured.
One Step Away: Once Upon a Proposal Page 15
