The landlady’s gaze shifted to the diamond in Claire’s hand. “Oh, my, how beautiful.”
Claire managed to force a little smile.
“We’d been wondering why Claire didn’t wear an engagement ring.” Mrs. Sandy’s gaze shifted to Tony. “I guess now we know why you were waiting.”
Tony’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but Claire doubted Mrs. Sandy noticed. The woman wasn’t paying attention to anything but the large solitaire.
“It’s exquisite.” She turned to Claire. “I bet you love it, don’t you?”
“I do.” Claire wondered if God would strike her dead for lying. But then she reminded herself He never had before.
“Does it fit?”
“I don’t know.” Claire glanced at Tony. “I haven’t had a chance to try it on.”
Claire started to take the ring from its case, but Mrs. Sandy’s hand stopped her.
“No, my dear,” the woman said softly. “Let Tony put it on you.”
Tony reached for the ring, his eyes flat and expressionless. She remembered how happy he’d been when he’d first pulled out the case. But what had she done wrong? She’d only been honest.
The diamond slid on her finger.
“It fits perfectly.” Claire was unable to keep the surprise from her voice. She wore a five and always had to have her rings sized down. Her gaze shifted to the gem. It looked a little better on her finger than in the box. The antique setting was unique, and the stone was large enough to be acceptable. If not for those scattered dark specks, it would have been more than adequate.
“Looks like it was made to be on your finger,” Mrs. Sandy said with a dreamy expression on her face.
Claire glanced at Tony. A chill traveled up her spine at the tightness in his jaw. Maybe she should have tried to soften her words, but who’d have thought he would have taken it this way?
She realized at that moment that she didn’t know Tony Karelli half as well as she’d thought she did.
“I’ll leave you two alone.” Mrs. Sandy patted Claire’s hand and bustled from the room. “Don’t forget the barbecue starts at seven.”
Claire waited until the woman was out of sight before she spoke. “Tony, I didn’t mean—”
“Forget it.” He waved a dismissive hand and jerked to his feet. “It doesn’t matter.”
In silence she watched him leave the room, and she couldn’t help but feel she’d make a big mistake, that for whatever reason, it really did matter.
“Where’s Tony?” Jocelyn’s gaze scanned the crowd.
“Mingling over there.” Claire loosely pointed across the room and took a sip of her soda. What would Jocelyn say if Claire told her the truth, that she and Tony had barely exchanged five words all evening?
During the first hour or two, she’d just suspected he was avoiding her. Now she was certain. All this because she’d made a simple observation about the ring. It wasn’t as if he had bought it for her. Actually, given its flaws, she couldn’t imagine anyone paying good money for it.
Surprisingly no one had said anything derogatory about the ring, at least not yet.
“Is that a diamond I see on your finger?” Jocelyn’s eyes sparkled as bright as the gem on Claire’s finger. “Hold it up. Let me see it.”
Claire’s heart sank. She reluctantly lifted her hand to the light.
With the manner of a professional gemologist, Jocelyn leaned forward to study the stone, her gaze narrowing. She studied the ring for several seconds in silence.
“It’s beautiful, Claire.” Jocelyn paused. “And so unique.”
The fact that the woman was being ten times more tactful than Claire had been to Tony infuriated Claire. She could recognize the pity in Jocelyn’s eyes.
The woman could afford to be kind. That three-carat solitaire gracing Jocelyn’s finger was gorgeous. Flawless.
“It’s a family heirloom,” Claire said at last. “The sentiment is what makes it truly priceless.”
She could barely choke the words out, the concept she was espousing was so foreign. She’d never been one for all that hearts-and-flowers drivel.
“Of course,” Jocelyn said as if she really did understand. “Of course it does.”
Claire chatted with Jocelyn for a few more minutes, thankful when the woman finally left to find her husband.
“Hello.” Dottie tapped Claire on the shoulder. “Having a good time?”
“Dottie.” Claire breathed a sigh of relief and smiled her first genuine smile of the evening. “I’ve been looking for you.”
It wasn’t far from the truth. Dottie was one of the few people Claire didn’t dread seeing. “Did you just get here?”
“Our baby-sitter showed up an hour late.” A wry grin twisted Dottie’s mouth. “Just wait until you and Tony have children. You’ll find that it’s the baby-sitter who controls your life.”
Claire laughed, and an image of a dark-haired baby flashed in her mind. “It’s hard for me to imagine getting married, let alone having children.”
“You just wait,” Dottie said with a teasing grin. “I thought that, too. But once you’re married and settled in those baby thoughts just seem to come naturally.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Claire brushed away a strand of hair with the back of her hand.
“Is that the ring?” Dottie’s eyes widened. “Mrs. Sandy said it was beautiful, but it’s more than that, it’s gorgeous.”
Claire scanned Dottie’s face, but all she saw was open admiration. She lifted her hand.
“The setting is so intricate.” Dottie’s finger traced a filigreed side. “I wondered why you didn’t have it yesterday, but then Mrs. Sandy explained why Tony wanted to give it to you today—”
Dottie clapped a hand over her mouth.
“That’s okay,” Claire said. “Tony did want me to have the ring before the party.”
“I saw him over by the punch bowl when we first came in, and he told me how it had been his great-grandmother’s ring. Told me she’d wanted him to give to the woman he loved.”
“He told you that?” That was more than he’d told her. Of course, she hadn’t really given him a chance.
“Don’t be mad.” Dottie ducked her head, and a hint of red crept up her neck. “We were talking about what I call gifts of the heart. I told him how I never even had a diamond when John and I were first married. We didn’t have the money. All we could afford was this gold band.”
This time it was Dottie who held out her hand. A simple ring encircled her finger.
“It’s lovely,” Claire said automatically.
“Not really,” Dottie smiled. “But it means the world to me. I love it because of the feeling behind it. It’s a gift of the heart. You understand.”
Claire nodded. She did understand. At least a little, and a lot more than she would have in the past.
“I’d like everyone’s attention.” Mrs. Sandy clapped her hands, and to Claire’s surprise the room quieted immediately. Tony stood to the side with a smile that to Claire looked forced. Mrs. Sandy’s gaze scanned the crowd. “Where’s Claire?”
Suddenly she found herself being pushed forward through the crowd until she stood next to Tony and Mrs. Sandy.
The woman wrapped an arm around Claire, forcing her to face the crowd. “When I asked our new pastor what he’d like for the barbecue, he had only one request. A cake.”
Claire slanted a sideways glance at Tony, but he refused to meet her gaze.
“And not just any cake,” Mrs. Sandy continued. “He wanted a birthday cake for his fiancée.”
“Happy birthday, Claire.” Dottie came out of the kitchen holding aloft a triple-layer chocolate cake ablaze with candles.
All at once a rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday to You” broke out and filled the house.
Claire’s throat tightened. She’d reconciled herself that this year her birthday would come and go without any fanfare. After all, her father hadn’t even remembered when she’d talked to
him yesterday. Tears stung the back of her lids.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
To the crowd, Tony’s wishes sounded sincere. Only Claire knew his lips were cold and his eyes lacked the warmth that had been there only a few hours before.
“How did—?”
“Isn’t it amazing,” Mrs. Sandy chirped. “You and Tony’s mother having the same birthday.”
Of course. Now she understood how, but why?
Because he’s a nice guy, a tiny voice inside Claire whispered. A nice guy that didn’t deserve the way he’d been treated. A nice guy she didn’t deserve.
Mrs. Sandy handed her a plate with a piece of cake. “Tony told me this afternoon to make sure you got the one with the rose.”
Her gaze dropped. On top of the cake, formed out of sugar, was one perfect red rose. A flower that matched the filigreed one on her ring.
Her throat tightened. Claire poked at the flower with a fork and her eyes blurred.
Abruptly she realized her father had been right all along. It was time for her to make some changes.
Chapter Seven
Claire rolled over and punched the pillow with her fist. How was it she could be so exhausted but still be unable to sleep?
She breathed slowly in and out and tried for several minutes to will herself to dreamland. When the clock struck two, Claire gave in to the inevitable. She shoved back the covers and slipped out of bed, sliding her feet into a pair of blue fluffy mules at the bedside. Instead of reaching for the kimono that matched her skimpy pajamas, Claire grabbed the thick chenille robe. If she was going outside, she’d need something a little warmer than silk. She’d been plagued by insomnia long enough to know that the only thing that would help her relax was to walk off her tension.
She made her way to the foyer and out the front door without waking anyone. Crisp and cool, the night air seemed more suited to fall than late spring. Claire pulled the robe tightly around her, cinched it closed with the belt and stepped to the porch railing.
A thousand stars glittered from the night sky, and the moon looked like a perfectly round yellow globe suspended in midair. Despite the chill, Claire felt a tingle of anticipation. Though it made no sense, it seemed somehow right to be standing where she was at this moment, breathing in the fresh air of the heartland, admiring the beauty of the night.
God’s in His heaven and all’s right with the world.
The phrase rose unbidden in her mind. She had no idea where she’d heard it or even if she’d recalled it correctly. It definitely wasn’t something her father would have said, and her mother…why, she barely remembered her. Regardless of where it came from, it fit this time, this place.
Claire stared into the night. If God was in His heaven, could He really hear her from so far away? And, if He could, would He be willing to listen to what she had to say? Or had He crossed her off His list years ago?
Still, what did it hurt to try? Claire knew that even if she walked she’d never be able to sleep if she didn’t get what was troubling her off her chest.
The thought of how she’d treated Tony gnawed at her. He’d been nothing but nice to her. She’d been nothing but rotten to him.
Claire took a deep breath and focused on a faraway star.
Dear God, I’m sure You’re disappointed in me. I think just about everybody is, my father, Tony, Mrs. Sandy. If You want the truth, which I’ve heard You do, I’m even a little disappointed in myself. But I want You to know that I’m going to really try to be a better person.
Claire paused and wondered if now would be the appropriate time to ask for a favor. She took a deep breath and plunged ahead.
I know I didn’t treat Tony well, but I am sorry and I hope that someway You can let him know that. I’d appreciate it.
Thank You. She hesitated. Uh, Amen.
Utterly drained, Claire rested her hand on the rail and took a deep, steadying breath. She’d never before realized how taxing prayer could be. Or how satisfying.
“Claire.”
“Tony?” Her heart picked up speed. She turned in the direction of the familiar baritone and strained to see in the darkness. “Where are you?”
“Over here,” he said. “On the swing.”
She squinted, finally able to make out a dark shape in the shadows. “Can I join you?”
Ordinarily she wouldn’t have even asked. But after what had happened earlier she wasn’t all that sure how anxious he was to see her.
Tony hesitated. He’d come down to the porch to do some serious thinking. About the well-intentioned lies he’d told. About his future in Millville. And about Claire.
But seeing her now, looking so beautiful in the moonlight, only confused him more. “I’d like that.”
Claire strolled over. The faint aroma of her plum-scented lotion surrounded her and stirred his senses.
“Have a seat.” Tony gestured to the empty spot beside him on the swing, wondering why he even bothered. She’d sit where she wanted anyway.
She flashed him an impudent smile. “Don’t mind if I do. Brrr.” She wrapped her arms across her chest. “It’s chilly out here.”
Tony slanted a gaze sideways, and his lips twitched at her engaging expression. But he made no move to pull her close and he kept his arm firmly at his side rather than slipping it around her shoulders.
He couldn’t help being attracted to her, but there were some issues they had to discuss. “Claire, we need to talk.”
She stiffened beside him, but her voice was offhand when she spoke. “About what?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “For starters, the ring.”
“I’m sorry.” Her expression was contrite, but he couldn’t be sure if she was sincere or not. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“And I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that,” he said. Granted, her comments had stung at the time, but he’d forced himself to remember that this was a woman who shopped at Tiffany’s. A woman who demanded perfection. A woman who would never be satisfied with a used diamond from an old woman she’d never met. “I should have been clear that the ring was meant to be a prop, for appearances’ sake only.”
“Not some gift of the heart,” she said softly.
“That’s right,” Tony said. “Definitely not that.”
He’d thought his words would please her, so he was unprepared for the look of disappointment that skittered across her face.
“I acted badly.” Claire’s gaze remained focused straight ahead, and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. “And I guess I need to know if what happened earlier changes things. Do you still want to go on with this charade?”
Stunned, Tony could only stare. Was this her way of saying goodbye?
“I’d like to continue with it awhile longer,” he said slowly. “That is, if you do.”
The tightness in her face eased. “I thought you might be giving me the boot.”
“Give someone the boot on her birthday?” Tony chuckled. “What kind of guy would do that?”
“I don’t know,” Claire said. “How ’bout any sane, rational guy? Plus it’s after midnight so it’s not even my birthday anymore.”
Tony stared. This wasn’t the Claire he knew. Something was different. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.
“Well, I think I’m sane, and I’m usually rational.” He lifted his arm and laid it across the top of the seat, his hand dropping to rest on her shoulder. “And I don’t usually give up easily. Besides,” he continued, “we had a bet. Remember?”
“A bet?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?” He quirked a brow, unable to resist teasing. “Four weeks? You and I? A new record?”
“You really think we could make it?”
Tony let his gaze linger on her beautiful face. “The way I have it figured, we only have three weeks and five days left.”
She turned her head slightly and met his gaze. “So, you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to
forgive.” He reached up with one hand and gently brushed a strand of hair from her face.
Claire moistened her lips with her tongue. “Do you know what I want for my birthday?”
He shook his head, knowing whatever it was he couldn’t afford it.
She faced him then, lightly resting her hand on his forearm. “I want to know that you really forgive me. Then I want to kiss and make up.”
Tony’s gaze dropped to her lips, and he smiled. He might be able to give her what she wanted, after all.
“What do you say, Tony? Does Claire get her wish?”
He wasn’t sure who made the first move, but it took just a fraction of a second for her to fall into his arms.
The touch of her lips sent a shock wave through his entire body. Claire returned his kiss as Tony lost himself in the sensation. Finally he raised his mouth from hers.
She murmured a protest and buried her face in his neck, scattering kisses across his warm flesh.
Tony’s breath grew ragged.
Claire kissed the pulsing hollow at the base of his throat.
“Claire.” Tony grasped her arms and pushed away, the strangled note in his voice letting her know the effort it took.
He raked a hand through his disheveled hair and blew a harsh breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
Claire stared in disbelief. When he only shrugged she crossed her arms and flopped back in the swing. With the sudden movement, her robe loosened, exposing the thin silk of her nightie to his view.
His gaze fell to the creamy expanse of her throat.
She jerked the robe together and gave the belt a savage pull. “You’re right. It’s time to stop.”
“It’s not that I—”
She closed his lips with the tips of her fingers. “I understand. I know—”
The sound of a car engine stopped her words. She and Tony turned as one to stare down the block, their attention drawn to a sporty-looking older vehicle parked under the corner streetlight.
A car door opened, and someone got out. The door slammed shut even as the sound of laughter filled the evening air.
Tony focused on the faraway figure. It was definitely female.
Redeeming Claire Page 7
