Chapter 2
H ey, Lady, want a ride?”
Startled, Annie spun around. Most of her dinner patrons had headed for the barn to attend the evening’s performance of the latest melodrama. She hadn’t expected anyone to be waiting when she opened the door.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Brad explained as he rolled toward her. “I’m sure you’ve been on your feet all day, and I thought I’d give you a lift up to the barn.”
She stared at the man. “Lift? How? There’s only a path.”
He shot back a smile as he patted his lap, his eyes twinkling. “Right here.”
“There? You’re kidding, aren’t you?” One corner of her mouth turned upward in a slight smile. Thinking back, she couldn’t remember ever sitting on a man’s lap, other than her father’s or her uncle’s.
He held out a hand. “No, I’m not kidding. Climb on. I’m a safe driver. I promise not to exceed the speed limit.”
Annie watched as he skillfully maneuvered the chair, coming to a stop beside her, facing the barn. Surely he wasn’t serious.
“You’re afraid I’ll drop you or we’ll run into a tree, aren’t you? Don’t worry—I’ve been driving this little jewel for years.” He patted his lap again. “Come on. I’ll bet none of your other boyfriends offered you a ride in a wheelchair. This could be the experience of a lifetime. You wouldn’t want to miss it, would you? This baby will do every bit of three miles per hour.”
She shifted her purse from one hand to the other. He was right. She was afraid. The path to the barn was up a gentle hill most of the way. What if—
“Annie, you’ll be safe.” His tone was reassuring. “I promise. It’ll be fun.”
She accepted his hand but kept her feet on the ground. “Have you ever—”
“Carried someone like this? On my lap?”
She nodded.
“Sure I have. My nephews. My nieces.” He tugged on her hand, but she stood fast.
She tilted her head and raised a brow. “How old were they?”
“Well, the oldest niece was seven, but the oldest nephew was—” He paused.
“Brad! How old was your nephew? And be honest,” she cautioned. “I want the truth.”
“Ah—nine?”
She withdrew her hand and slapped at his arm playfully. “Nine? You’ve only carried a nine-year-old child on that chair, and you expect to carry me? Forget it.”
Brad reached for her hand again and squeezed it tenderly. “Did I mention he was a very big nine year old?”
“You’re incorrigible!”
“But lovable, right?” His brown eyes gleamed.
She ignored his question. But, yes, no doubt about it, he was lovable, in a big brotherly sort of way. “You promise you won’t drop me?”
“Try me.”
She slipped carefully onto his lap, his one arm circling her tiny waist as he pulled her to him. He smelled nice, like shampoo and after-shave, and she found herself melting against him as her arms wound around his thick neck. To her surprise she felt safe.
“Put your feet on the empty footrest,” he told her.
“Are you sure it won’t crowd you?”
He snickered. “Annie, I need only one footrest—remember?”
She blushed.
“Ready?” His face was so close to hers that their cheeks nearly touched.
She closed her eyes and leaned into him. “Ready, I think. Just be careful, okay?”
Brad adjusted his grip about Annie’s waist as his right hand moved to press the lever. The chair moved forward slowly. Annie, the woman he’d fallen helplessly in love with the first night he’d visited Apple Valley Farm, was in his lap, her arms hugging his neck. How many times had he dreamed of being this close to her? Of holding her? Kissing her? The tendrils of her lovely dark hair touched his cheek. If only she were his. If only—
“Brad? Did you hear me?”
“Ah—sure, Annie. I’d never let anything happen to you. I promise.”
He maneuvered the chair up the packed dirt trail to the Big Barn Theater, part of the Apple Valley complex. The complex included not only the restaurant and the theater but also a large orchard and the family home as well.
“Annie,” he asked, feeling the awkwardness of their silence as they rolled along, “how long has your family owned Apple Valley Farm?”
“Forever. My great-great-great-grandfather homesteaded this ground and started the orchards, but it was my grandfather who started the restaurant and my father who converted the big barn into a theater. Why do you ask?”
He slowed and pushed the lever slightly to the right to miss a rock in the trail before answering. “Just curious. Now you’re the sixth generation, and the mantle is being passed on to you? Now that your father is sick?”
She loosened her hold about his neck. He hoped it was because she was feeling more secure and not because she wanted to move away from him. “Yes, he signed the property over to my older sister, Valerie, and me when he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. He didn’t want any problems after he—”
She paused. He knew it was difficult for her to think of her father in those terms, and he almost wished he hadn’t asked.
“Sister? I didn’t know you had a sister. I’ve never seen her around the restaurant, have I?”
She shook her head. “She’s actually my half-sister, by my dad’s first wife. We’ve never been close. I rarely see her.”
Brad stopped at the bottom of the ramp near the theater to let Annie off his lap. Just then the lead actor in the melodrama, the villain, came running toward her.
“What’s wrong?” Annie asked.
Between breaths the man told her the pianist had phoned, his car had broken down, and he couldn’t make the evening performance. “We have a packed house. Shall I tell our customers we’ll give them a rain check? I don’t know what else to do.”
Annie stared at the man. “I–I guess we’ll have to. We have no one else to take his place.”
“Is the music score on the piano?” Brad asked.
“Yeah, I saw it there a few minutes ago when I went to check on him, before his call came in.” The man was wringing his hands. “Why?”
Brad rolled up next to Annie and tugged on her hand. “I’ll play if you want me to. I’ve seen the play at least ten times. I think I can follow it, if you don’t mind a few mistakes and you let the audience know I’m only filling in.”
Her eyes widened. “Really, Brad? You’d do this? I didn’t even know you played.”
“I play mostly by ear, but I can read music, too. I’m better at playing country gospel than anything, but I’m sure I can handle the melodrama music.”
Annie turned to the man. “Make sure the chair is pulled away from the piano. Brad’s going to be our guest pianist tonight.”
When it was time for the preshow, Brad skipped the songs the regular pianist played and performed a couple of his favorite ragtime tunes, much to the delight of the audience. Annie took center stage, welcomed each person who had come, and introduced Brad.
He nodded, turned back to the piano with a reassuring grin toward Annie and played the introduction to the first act. The footlights dimmed, and the play began. In the semidarkness, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Annie slip past him and drop into a chair only a few feet away. He grinned to himself. I’d do anything for Annie, even if it means embarrassing myself in front of a crowd.
Annie watched Brad’s fingers move over the keys. He was handling the music score as capably as the regular pianist. How kind it was of him to volunteer. She and the cast were grateful, as was the audience of young and old alike. She laughed as they hissed and booed the villain and cheered the hero and heroine. Brad’s fingers never missed a beat, and by the look on his face, she was sure he was enjoying himself.
At the conclusion of the performance, each actor and actress received well-deserved accolades, but Brad alone got a standing ovation. Annie watched with pride as members of the audience crow
ded around him to express their appreciation. Without him they would have had no evening performance at Apple Valley Farm.
He waited by the ticket counter until Annie was ready to go back down the path to the restaurant. He beamed as she climbed onto his lap without an invitation.
“Oh, Brad, you were wonderful.” She wrapped her arms about his neck and held on tight. “How can I ever thank you?”
A coy smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “Give me time. I’ll find a way.”
She chattered on, scarcely hearing his answer. He had turned a possible catastrophe and box office loss into a huge success, and she was grateful. Caught up in describing his performance at the piano, she didn’t notice the way Brad hung on her every word and drew her closer about the waist.
“You know,” she said with a confident smile, “I could get used to this—riding with you. It’s kind of fun, and it sure beats walking.” Immediately she wished she could withdraw her words. She was sure that staying in the wheelchair, with no other option, was anything but fun for Brad. “I’m so sorry,” she said sincerely. “I only meant—”
He pulled back on the lever, and the chair came to a sudden halt, forcing Annie to hold tightly to Brad. “Annie, believe me—you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m sure you think your words upset me. They didn’t. I know your heart’s right.”
“I have a habit of speaking before I think,” she mumbled.
Brad smiled and lifted his hand. “Forget it, Annie. I already have.” With a little pressure on the lever, the chair moved forward again. “I tried crutches a couple of times, but after a few falls I decided I felt more secure in this wheelchair. Besides, with my hands full, I had no way to carry my briefcase, and a good lawyer can’t go anywhere without his briefcase. He needs it to make him look official, even if it’s empty!”
She grinned at him, thinking again of the evening’s performance. “You’re something else, Brad.” Then she asked quietly, “Did you ever consider a prosthesis?”
The smile never left his face. “An artificial leg? Never! A buddy I knew in high school had one of those weird things. He never did get used to it. I figured, why bother? I hear those things aren’t too comfortable, and I’m a sissy when it comes to pain.”
They reached the door to the restaurant. “Hey, I worked up an appetite playing that piano. I’m ready for pie. How about you?”
“You bet. I’m famished too.”
The restaurant was empty except for two young women scrubbing the floor. Annie scooted off Brad’s lap and waved her hand. “Pick out a table, and I’ll get our pie.”
Brad selected a table near the front, unrolled his napkin, and waited.
A few minutes later Annie walked to the table carrying two large pieces of pie. “Can you live without coffee? They’ve already washed all the pots and put them away.”
He chuckled and pushed back her chair with his foot. “I’ll struggle through, but I could use a big glass of water.”
“Done.” Annie took two glasses from a shelf, filled them with ice and water, then returned to the table. “I don’t need this pie, you know. If I eat with you very often, I’d have to waddle instead of walk.”
“Fat chance,” he countered, laughing at his own unintended pun. “That body of yours could use a little fattening up. And I like that comment about eating with me.”
She gave him a playful frown. “Thanks for that left-handed compliment.”
“Whoops. And you think you have a habit of speaking before thinking? Guess it’s my turn to ask for forgiveness. I know it didn’t come off like it, but I meant that as a compliment. You have a great shape—” He slapped his jaw. “I’m digging myself in deeper, aren’t I?”
Annie picked up his fork and handed it to him with a giggle. “Shut up and eat.”
They laughed and talked their way through their pie, Brad being his usual comedic self and Annie his appreciative audience.
“I can’t eat another bite,” Brad said, rubbing his stomach.
She looked at his plate then at him. “It’s a good thing. Your plate is empty.”
He gasped. “So it is!” His eyes twinkled.
Annie dropped her fork and stared at her own plate. “I can’t believe it. I’ve eaten all of mine, too. I never eat an entire piece of pie. Especially this one—it’s so rich.” She pointed her finger at him. “And it’s all your fault, you and that witty tongue of yours. You kept me laughing so hard I didn’t realize how much I was eating.” She pinched at her waist. “Yuk! I can feel those pounds creeping on already.”
She picked up their dishes and carried them into the kitchen as Brad made his way toward the door.
The two girls had finished cleaning up and left, so Annie turned out the lights and flipped on the burglar alarm. Then she followed Brad out, locking the door behind them.
She extended her hand. “Good night, Brad. And thanks for a wonderful evening. I’ve loved every minute of it.”
Instead of shaking her hand, he took it and pulled her to him. “Me too. But as I told you, I’m a gentleman, and I won’t let you walk to your car alone. Hop on.”
She gave him a shy smile, slipped an arm about his shoulder, and slid easily onto his lap. “I thought you’d never ask.”
They rode silently to her car with Annie’s head resting on Brad’s shoulder. He waited while she located her keys and opened her door.
She turned to him and smiled again. “I’ve enjoyed your company. I hope we can do it again sometime.”
Brad grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. “How about tomorrow night?”
She pulled her hand away and placed it on her hip. “Come on, Brad. Be honest. Is it me or my apple pie you like?”
“Well”—he paused and rubbed his chin—“that’s a hard question. But if I had to make a choice I’d pick—”
Annie clamped her hand over his mouth. “Don’t say it. I have a feeling your answer is going to be my apple pie.”
Brad cupped his hand over hers and gently pulled her fingers away, kissing the palm of her hand. “Annie, as much as I love your Awesome Caramel Apple Pie, it takes a distant second to you.” His laugh echoed across the empty parking lot. “But I have to admit—you’re both appealing.”
Her laughter joined his. “Is that appealing with an a? Or a peeling with two e’s?”
“Both. Good night, Annie. Lock your doors and be careful driving.”
She slid under the steering wheel and put the key in the ignition. A quick turn and the engine started. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow night?”
Grinning, he backed his chair away from her car. “Count on it.”
Brad watched the car move out of the parking lot and onto the street before twisting the lever on his chair to the right and heading toward his van. “Well, old buddy,” he said aloud as he lowered the ramp and rolled up onto it, “you’ve done it. Opened your heart to a woman, something you vowed you’d never do.” You know she’s only toying with you, an inner voice told him. A beautiful, vivacious woman like Annie Johnson doesn’t want a broken, incomplete man. A woman like that can have any man she wants, and that man isn’t you. You can’t even stand up and take her in your arms or walk by her side. You’re a fool, Brad Reed—a stupid, gullible fool. And if you don’t back away from this woman now, before you fall any further in love, you’ll get hurt. And hurt bad.
Chapter 3
A nnie glanced at her watch. Seven-thirty and no Brad. Hadn’t he told her he’d see her at the restaurant the next evening? Was he sick? Did he have an accident? She pulled back the checkered curtain and scanned the crowded parking lot for the fifth time.
“Where’s Brad?” One of the waitresses stepped behind the register to ring up a ticket. “Several of our customers have asked about him. They thought it was neat the way he played the piano last night. I hear he was pretty good.”
Annie glanced out the window again. “He was good. And he said he’d be here tonight.”
The waitress walked up besi
de her and peered out. “Do you suppose something is wrong? He’s here every Thursday night—without fail!”
“I don’t know,” Annie answered, recalling how much fun she’d had riding on Brad’s chair. “Maybe he made other plans.”
“Maybe he found a girlfriend,” another waitress added cheerfully as she joined the two at the window. “He’s a great-looking guy, and he’s also one of the nicest men I’ve ever met. A girl would be lucky to snag a man like Brad.”
“He’s handicapped though,” the first waitress reminded them. “Not every woman could handle that. I’m not sure I could.”
Annie listened and for the first time considered what it would be like to date a handicapped man. While she enjoyed riding on Brad’s chair, what would it be like to have a boyfriend who was stuck in a wheelchair? To be unable to stand on tiptoes to kiss him or beside him with his arm about her waist. She shook the thoughts from her head. Why should she concern herself about such things? Brad was only a friend, nothing more. Perhaps he’d found a girlfriend. Well, more power to him. A good man like Brad deserved to be happy. She hoped he wouldn’t fall for some woman who would toy with his emotions and leave him heartbroken.
It was nearly a week before Brad appeared again at Apple Valley Farm. And although his greeting to Apple Annie was cordial, the old spark she’d seen in him was gone. He sat at his regular table, focused his attention on his dinner, consumed his pie, and left, barely saying good-bye.
Annie watched with heightened interest as he maneuvered his chair across the lot. What had happened? He’d been warm and friendly; now he barely acknowledged her presence. Even the waitresses had noticed. Brad wasn’t himself, and everyone was concerned. Had she offended him in some way?
She turned away once the van was out of sight, determined to ask him the next time he came in. If there was a next time.
Brad watched Apple Valley Farm disappear in his rearview mirror. He had promised himself he would stay away, but he’d felt compelled to see Annie one more time, and she was every bit as beautiful as he’d remembered. Much too beautiful to be interested in him. Oh, God! He laid his hand on the stub of his missing leg. Why did You ever let me meet Annie Johnson?
Sweet Surprise: Romance Collection Page 35
