Ready-Made Bride
Page 5
“Megan’s staying with us and we’re having a blast together,” Andy said, a huge grin encompassing his face. “She even taught me and Dad to dance.”
“She’s staying at the house?” The question wheezed out of Patricia.
Not caring for the way Patricia talked as though she wasn’t there, Megan opened her mouth to explain the situation and defend Kane’s respectability, if need be.
Andy beat her to the punch. “Dad said she could.”
Megan inwardly groaned, imagining by the woman’s widening eyes that she was thinking all sorts of sordid things.
“How convenient,” Patricia said, her tone snide.
Harold placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Patty-”
Patricia shrugged off her husband’s touch, her chin lifting haughtily. Her gaze drifted past Megan toward where Kane stood, then back again. Animosity glittered in the depths of her eyes. “How long do you intend to stay in Linden, Ms. Sanders?”
Megan held her growing annoyance in check. “At least a week.”
Patricia huffed, bosom rising and falling in indignation. “That’s hardly an appropriate arrangement for my grandson-”
Harold stepped forward, dispelling the argument his wife was trying to instigate. “So, sonny boy, you ready to spend the day fishing with your grandpa?”
Andy hesitated and glanced at Megan, his brow furrowed. “Can Megan come with us?”
“Sundays are our day together, Andrew,” Patricia interrupted, a tight smile pinching her lips. “Don’t you want to spend the afternoon with your grandpa?”
Andy looked confused by his grandma’s harsh tone. His bottom lip quivered. “Yeah, but I just thought Megan could come, too.”
Megan’s heart ripped in two. Bending to his level, she gave him a bright smile and gently nudged him under the chin. “Andrew, I have plenty to do to keep me busy, and I’ll be there when you get home.” She smoothed his hair and kissed his cheek, hating that he was torn between duty and his real desire. Hating, too, that the Lindens didn’t include Kane in their lives. He should be the one joining in on the fishing trip, but he clearly wasn’t welcome. Megan ached for Kane. Having grown up in foster homes, she knew the pain of being the outsider always looking in. She knew they had that much in common.
Patricia wiggled her fingers at her grandson. “Come along, it’s getting warm, and you know Grandma can’t handle much sun.”
Reluctantly, Andy placed his hand in his grandma’s.
Harold ran his palm over his sparse gray hair, his gaze expressing the apology he wouldn’t voice in front of his wife. Megan stood there as the three of them walked away, wondering what awful occurrence had caused such a chasm between the Lindens and Kane.
Andrew glanced over his shoulder at her. “Bye, Megan.” His voice was choked with tears.
She fought a swell of emotion. “Bye, sweetheart. Catch me a big fish.” She blew him a kiss, and he reached out and grabbed it. A smile chased away the gloom in his eyes, and he tucked the token of affection into his pocket.
Heavyhearted, she turned to where she’d left Kane, surprised to find him alone. Most of the congregation had left, and the ones who’d watched her encounter with the Lindens now headed toward their cars. Apparently, the day’s excitement was over.
She rubbed the throb starting in her temple, feeling as though she’d been whirled through a hurricane. Was this the kind of confrontation Kane had to deal with every time he met with his in-laws? And didn’t they all realize Andy was the one who suffered from whatever had torn them apart?
As she neared Kane, their gazes met, his watchful and brooding. He’d loosened his tie, and his hair looked like it had been repeatedly finger combed. Back braced against the trunk of the huge shade tree dominating the yard, he looked like a rebel and very unapproachable. He put on a great facade for the rest of the town, but she had no problem stepping beyond the invisible boundaries he’d established. His scowl was worse than his bite.
She stopped in front of him, close enough to touch his hardened jaw. She kept her hands to herself. “Pleasant people, the Lindens are,” she said wryly.
“My sentiments exactly,” he drawled mockingly, watching as the Lindens’s cream colored Cadillac pulled out of the parking lot. Pushing away from the tree, he started toward Megan’s car.
She quickly followed, digging her keys from her purse. Catching up to him, she took a risk and asked, “What happened between you and the Lindens?”
He halted at the passenger side of her car. For a flash of a moment she thought he was going to divulge the truth, but instead a bitter smile quirked his mouth. “It’s a long story, Megan, and you only have five days left of your vacation.” He opened the door, slid into the front seat and enclosed himself in the car.
Realizing that was his way of politely saying mind your own business, she made a face at him through the window. He stared straight ahead, waiting for her to get into the driver’s side.
Stubborn man. Long story or not, she planned to take advantage of every one of her five days. The least she could do for Andy before she left was give him the gift of a complete family.
Three honks from the Cadillac signaled the end of Andrew’s day with his grandparents and Kane’s self-imposed exile in his workshop so he wouldn’t have to be alone with Megan. After this morning’s debacle at the church, he got the distinct impression she wasn’t going to let her question about his relationship with the Lindens die. He had no desire to relive the past. Nor did he care to see Megan look at him with disgust.
Wiping sweat and sawdust from his brow with the back of his hand, Kane rounded the entrance of the barn to meet Andrew, as was his weekly custom, and abruptly stopped.
Megan was already out of the house and halfway down the drive, with Andrew racing toward her. Once Andy was in her arms giving her a fierce hug, the Lindens merged the Cadillac into the street, leaving behind a thin veil of dust, the only sign that they’d been there. Kane had grown used to the unorthodox procedure his mother-in-law had established, but the appalled look on Megan’s face as they drove away without a backward glance or an obligatory wave goodbye made him realize just how cold and emotionless their agreement was.
He watched Megan say something to Andy. His son nodded obediently and headed toward the house. Megan started for the barn, her stride purposeful. Instinctively knowing this wasn’t a social visit, he resisted the urge to slip inside the barn and switch on his power saw for a few hours to drone out the lecture sure to come.
“Dinner’s just about ready,” she said, pushing her hands into the back pockets of the faded jeans she’d changed into. The movement stretched the soft cotton of her sweatshirt across her breasts, emphasizing their fullness. “You must be starved, considering you skipped lunch.”
“I am,” he admitted, unable to miss the sardonic note to her voice that told him she knew he’d avoided her. “I’ll be up to the house as soon as I put my tools away.” He turned to go into the barn.
“Do they always pull up to the mailbox and honk?”
Her question stopped him before he could escape. He faced her again. “Every week,” he said flatly.
Megan watched Kane’s defenses rise like a physical cloak of armor and paid them no heed. She was too intent on discovering the facts that still eluded her. “Don’t they ever come in, or at least chat for a bit?”
“Nope.”
Unable to believe the lengths to which the three of them went to avoid one another, she let the day’s accumulation of frustration seep out. “The three of you are being stubborn and selfish.”
Dark eyes flashed tempered anger, but his voice was deceptively calm when he spoke. “You know nothing about the situation.”
Maybe she didn’t, but it wasn’t difficult to draw an educated conclusion about their relationship. “I know that Andy is the one suffering while the three of you circle each other like wary cats.”
The light filtering from the barn silhouetted his frame, making him appear
like a menacing giant in front of her. “Andy is the only reason the Lindens have anything to do with me.”
Why? She wanted ask, but knew by the heat in his gaze her question would go unanswered. “Other than you, Harold and Patricia are the only family Andy has. Surely the three of you could try a little harder to get along.”
“Andy has an aunt,” he said defensively.
She remembered Andy mentioning Aunt Diane during one of their phone conversations. She lived in Idaho with her husband. He’d told her that Grandma and Grandpa Fielding had died before he’d been born. She wondered about Kane’s relationship with his sister but knew now wasn’t the time to pursue her curiosity.
“That’s not the same,” she argued. “The Lindens are, and always will be, an active, direct part of Andy’s life since you live in the same town. Are you going to spend the rest of your lives barely being civil to one another?”
He didn’t answer her, just jammed his hands on his hips and glared.
“It’s not fair to Andrew,” she said on a softer note. “The strain between you and the Lindens is obvious and has got to affect Andrew on some level.”
Harsh laughter escaped him. “You must have a nice, cozy family.”
His taunt cut right to her heart. He couldn’t know how lonely and painful her childhood had been, she told herself, tucking her arms over her stomach. “Quite the opposite, Kane,” she said quietly. “From the age of eight, when both my parents were killed in a car accident, I grew up in more foster homes than I can remember. I never had a family after that.”
Sympathy flickered in his gaze, and he released a tight breath that sounded close to a curse. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. That’s why I see the importance of having one. Surely whatever has come between you and the Lindens can be reconciled.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Reconciliation isn’t in the Lindens’s vocabulary.”
How about his? “Couldn’t you at least try-”
“No.” The one word boomed like thunder in the barn. He leaned close, the sudden dangerous glint in his eyes masking the flash of raw, vulnerable pain she’d seen seconds before. “You know nothing about it, Megan,” he said, his voice low with warning. “So leave it alone.” He turned and walked away.
If she was smart, she’d follow his advice. Unfortunately, the higher emotional stakes she’d invested in father and son in the year and a half she’d been corresponding with Andy overruled her common sense. As outrageous and foolish as it seemed, she was falling in love with Kane Fielding.
Taking a deep breath of clean, fresh air, Megan plucked another weed from the planter bordering the house, content with a chore most of the women she knew would blanch at. After her divorce, the only friend who’d remained a compassionate listener and adviser was her roommate, Judi Melvin. They’d met years before she’d married Phillip, and their friendship had stayed constant throughout her divorce, when she’d needed a listening ear the most.
Megan was used to being alone, preferred it most of the time. But the past few days with Andrew made her empty life seem that much lonelier. She didn’t relish returning to a small apartment in the hubbub of Seattle, her day-to-day existence broken by a friendly chat with her editor or an occasional visit from a friend. She especially didn’t want to revert to weekly letters from Andy and infrequent phone calls, when she’d lived the pure heaven of seeing and talking to him daily.
Sighing heavily, she sank her fingers into the soft soil, sifting out the patches of bright green clover vying for space with the weeds. Tomorrow, after Kane left for work and Andy went to school, she was going to the hardware store to buy some flowers and plant them. Give the house a more cheerful appearance. That would keep her busy until they returned home and she could share Andy’s day with him.
She pushed a strand of hair from her cheek with the back of her hand and smiled, remembering her time at school with Andy that morning. He’d been so excited, and his classmates had been polite but not shy about asking her questions about her books. Most of them read her series because of Andrew’s prompting. Mrs. Graham, Andrew’s teacher, had been pleasant but reserved, watching her in the same speculative way the people at church had.
Overall, she’d had a fun, interesting morning compared to her frustrating evening last night, when Kane had excused himself after dinner and spent his evening in the barn until she’d finally fallen asleep waiting for him. It wasn’t taking her long to learn whenever Kane didn’t want to deal with something he sequestered himself in his workshop.
And he obviously didn’t like that she’d confronted him about his relationship with the Lindens. The man was hurting, way deep down inside, and she’d gone and pried open wounds that had apparently scabbed over but hadn’t completely healed. They never would until Kane resolved whatever was tearing him apart inside. She suspected his turmoil had to do with more than just the Lindens’ attitude.
The sound of a car turning into the drive pulled Megan from her thoughts. Glancing over her shoulder and shielding her eyes from the sun, she frowned as a tall, willowy young woman stepped out of an old blue Ford Mustang. The faded jeans she wore were ripped and frayed in strategic places, and a snug T-shirt displayed every voluptuous curve of her firm young body. Thick black hair fell into soft waves to her waist. Megan estimated her to be in her early twenties, young compared to Megan’s thirty-one years but plenty old enough to be a girlfriend of Kane’s. Her heart gave a little twist. He’d told her he didn’t want to get married again, but that didn’t mean the man was a monk.
The woman bounded toward Megan, a dazzling smile lighting up her attractive face. “Howdy,” she said amiably, her dark, exotic eyes full of mystery.
Dismissing her pang of jealousy, Megan returned the smile. “Hello.” Standing, she dusted her hands and brushed off the grass and dirt clinging to her knees, too aware of her grungy appearance. “If you’re looking for Kane, he’s not home.”
“Kane?” The woman’s perfectly arched brows shot up an inch. “Are you kidding? He’s never around when I show up. I’m sure he prefers it that way.”
“Pardon?” Megan was sure she’d misheard the young woman.
“I’m Joyce, Andy’s tutor,” she explained. “I tutor him every Monday and Thursday afternoon for an hour.”
“Oh.” Tutor? Andy hadn’t said anything to her about a tutor, nor had Kane. Frowning, she glanced at her watch. “Andy should be home any minute. Would you like to come in for a cool drink?”
Joyce hesitated, but there was enough curiosity in her gaze to contradict her reply. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
“You aren’t.” She rubbed at the slight twinge in her back from bending over the planter box. “In fact, it’s the perfect excuse to quit for the day.” And to find out why Andy needs a tutor when he told me he got straight As on his last report card.
Megan led the way into the kitchen. She washed her hands and retrieved a fresh pitcher of lemonade from the refrigerator.
Joyce slid into a chair at the table, a Cheshire cat grin lifting her lips. “So, it is true what they’re saying.”
Megan’s senses went on full alert, but her hand remained steady as she poured the pale yellow liquid into two tall glasses. She met Joyce’s gaze from across the counter separating them. “Who’s saying what?” she asked evenly.
Joyce blinked at Megan innocently. “The townspeople, that you’re living with Kane.”
Megan groaned. Kane had warned her this would happen. “Just to set the record straight, I’m not living here. I’m visiting Andrew.”
“Oh,” Joyce said quietly, though it was obvious by the gleam in her eyes that she’d formed her own opinion about the living arrangements, which coincided with the rest of the town’s.
Tamping her frustration, Megan carried the two glasses of cold lemonade to the table and sat down, eager to change the subject. “Is Andrew having problems in school?”
“No, he’s a great student.” Joyce’s brows creased th
oughtfully. “As far as I know he’s never gotten anything below an A minus.”
“Then why are you here?”
Joyce shrugged and took a drink of lemonade. “Kane insists on having Andy tutored twice a week, and I need the extra cash. If I didn’t do it, someone else would.”
Megan didn’t understand Kane’s logic. Why was he so adamant that Andy participate in after-school tutoring he didn’t need?
“So what’s Kane really like?” Joyce asked, her tone husky with interest. “I mean, we all have our own impressions about the man, but no one seems to know the real Kane.”
The real Kane was kind, sensitive and more vulnerable than he’d admit. He was also breathlessly sexy when she could coax a smile out of him. “He’s a good father,” she said, hoping that bit of gossip made the rounds.
Joyce rolled her eyes, a gust of breathless laughter escaping her. “Surely you see him more than a father figure.”
Megan smiled sweetly, deliberately being naive. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
Seemingly eager to collect and distribute her share of gossip, Joyce fell for the pretense. “You mean to tell me you don’t think Kane is drop-dead gorgeous?”
“He’s very good-looking.” Megan couldn’t lie, but a handsome face and a great body weren’t all she saw when she looked at Kane.
Joyce hmphed in disgust. “Lord knows I’ve tried to catch his eye, but he hasn’t shown an ounce of interest.” Sighing heavily, she reclined in her chair and twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “He just pays me my tutoring fee and doesn’t give me a second glance. Most of the single women in town would love to date him, but he’s so moody and distant. And, well, then there’s the incident with his wife-”
“What incident?” Megan interrupted, more interested in something involving Kane than Joyce regaling her attempts at seduction.
Joyce’s eyes widened. “You haven’t heard?”
Sensing she was on the edge of something that could possibly be the key to unlocking a part of Kane’s personality, anticipation tightened Megan’s chest until it hurt. “Heard what?”