That was Wednesday.
On Thursday, just as Hannah finished drafting a letter on Seth’s behalf, asking the town to give the harmless homeless man more time to relocate, the telephone rang, and Joan squawked in protest, as she usually did. Hannah got up from her dining table to answer it.
“Hannah Parrish?”
Hannah’s heart leaped. She knew immediately who it was. But she hadn’t told him her last name….
“Y-yes. Speaking.”
“It’s Jack. From last Friday? Jack Gamble.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“JACK!” HANNAH CLUTCHED the phone in one hand, trying to shush Joan with wild gestures. The parrot ignored her.
“Happy to hear from me?” He sounded pleased.
“What’s that in the background—a radio?”
“No.” She looked behind her. “It’s a…a parrot. How did you get my number? Oh—of course, I’m pleased to hear from you.”
“You are?” There was a brief silence. Joan, mercifully, had shut up. “I went to see your sister this morning, early. Before she went to work. She told me you were staying in Glory, that you were house-sitting for a friend.”
House-sitting?
“She said you’d be there for a while, she didn’t know how long. I thought, hey, that’s good news. Because guess where I am?”
“I…I have no idea, Jack,” she said weakly. House-sitting? She’d kill Emily!
“Glory. Yeah, no kidding!” he said, although she hadn’t spoken. “I guess we never got a chance to learn much about each other on Friday. I didn’t mention it, but I’ve given up prospecting and I’m taking over my uncle’s farm. You know, once from a small town, always from small town?” He laughed.
“Sure. I guess so,” Hannah murmured unconvincingly. She must be coming across like an idiot. He had to be wondering why he’d bothered calling.
“My uncle’s place. Ira Chesley, east of town, toward Vulcan. Maybe you’ve heard of him?”
She had. Ira Chesley lived near the Longquists on the Gallant farm. Phoebe Longquist had been one of the library’s high-school volunteers. But there was no way she was getting into that—why a house sitter would know of a scruffy old bachelor farmer like Ira Chesley. House sitter? “It’s great to hear from you, Jack,” she went on, gathering all her resources. “Really great. I’m so glad you called.” It was true; she was delighted to hear from him. But…then what?
“I thought maybe we could see each other again,” he said, rushing a little. Was he nervous? Impossible!
“I’d like to take you out, maybe tomorrow if you don’t have any other plans. Dinner? A buddy told me about a nice place in High River we could try. Japanese. What do you think?”
Hannah realized she was being awfully quiet. She had to say something—anything. Another chance with Jack? This was just too lucky. “I’d love that. Shall I meet you somewhere? My car’s fixed.”
“No, I’ll pick you up at your place. Emily gave me the address. She’s a nice girl, Hannah. Very helpful.”
After Jack had hung up, promising to collect her at six the next evening, Hannah dialed her sister’s cell phone. Very helpful, was she? Very helpful, indeed!
“BUT, HANNY, HE WAS so drop-dead gorgeous, I couldn’t believe that—”
“That he’d be interested in me,” Hannah interjected grimly.
“No, no! I just was worried that—you know, that he’d wonder what a cool girl like you was doing in a boring apartment like that out there in Hicksville and, well, maybe put two and two together—”
“I want him to put two and two together! Now you’ve got me in deeper, Em. I could have come clean about last Friday. Laughed it off as a Halloween thing. Now it just seems like we’re a couple of liars.” Hannah practically wept. She knew Emily was just trying to help her, but some help! And it wasn’t as though Emily’s life was on the line here.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Hannah. I really wanted to help, that’s all. Honest.” Emily sniffed. She sounded suitably chastened. Hannah forgave her, as she always did.
“Now maybe you can tell me how I’m going to get out of this one, since you’re so darn smart,” Hannah returned grumpily, feeling a little better. At least Emily was contrite.
But was she really?
“Oh, I’ve had some super ideas, Hanny,” she rushed on. “I’ll gather up a bunch of stuff from some of my friends, some really funky clothes, and I’ll drive out and you can try them all on. Something’s bound to work. You want to convey, let’s see, cool, class, funky—”
“Emily,” Hannah interrupted. “I don’t think you get it. This isn’t a part in some play, you know. All I want to convey is me. Me! Hannah Parrish. No matter how boring and ordinary. If I’m too ordinary for him, then he’s not my kind of guy. Maybe it’s just not meant to be.”
“Don’t say that, Hannah! You’ve got this great chance with a super guy. Who would’ve guessed he’d actually come over to my place? He’s persistent, too! You must’ve really made an impression. I nearly died when I opened the door this morning…” Off she went on her own train of thought, and Hannah tuned out. All she could think about was what a mess she was in—again. Only this time it wasn’t entirely her own fault.
There was just one thing to do. Hannah felt her heart squeeze in regret. That was to wear the borrowed clothes Emily came up with—she certainly wasn’t buying any more with her own money—pull off this dinner with the drop-dead gorgeous Jack Gamble and then stop answering her phone.
After that, maybe she could look for another job in a different town.
THE HOUSE-SITTING GIG was in a nice area of town, Jack thought. It wasn’t where the fancy folk lived, up on Buffalo Hill, and it wasn’t the seedy side of town, down on Painter’s Flats. It was close to the town center, within walking distance of the town amenities—the library, the clinic, the town hall, Main Street. A fairly nondescript, stucco, two-story walk-up apartment building, postwar construction. He was pretty sure it was the only actual apartment building in Glory.
The unit she was staying in was at the back, overlooking the parking lot and playing fields beyond. There was a girls’ soccer game in progress. Jack took a big breath and knocked. He felt foolish now, stopping to pick up some flowers on the way. The stems felt crumpled in his hand.
But he’d thought this over carefully. He’d decided he was being hasty last week in Saul’s barbershop. He had to face the facts—he liked party gals. Glamour babes. This idea of settling down with a quiet little Glory girl might not be such a good idea, after all. Meeting Hannah Parrish last week had helped him change his mind. She didn’t strike him as the usual glamour girl, anyway. There was more to her. A lot more.
And then to find out she was here in town! Right under his nose! Jack knocked again. This time there was a hell of a racket inside, some kind of squawking. Well, she’d said there was a parrot on the premises, or at least he thought that was what she’d said yesterday.
“Oh! You’re early.” Hannah looked gorgeous. Tight black velvet pants, some kind of long flashy-looking tunic, dangly silver earrings, those wild boots she’d had on last week…
He glanced at his watch. “Only five minutes early. Here—these are for you.” He thrust the bouquet at her. She seemed taken aback.
“For me?” She flashed him a beautiful smile and reached for the flowers. Then she moved inside.
“Won’t you come in for a minute? I’ll just put these in some water—”
“Jacko! Take off, eh? Atta girl! Take off, eh?”
She took his arm as he came into the small vestibule of the apartment. “Oh, don’t mind her. It’s just Joan, my—er, my friend’s parrot. She can be really cranky sometimes.”
“I see that. Or, rather, hear that.” Jack took full measure of the apartment as he stepped inside. Hannah disappeared into the kitchen. He made a face at the bird.
The parrot squawked and began to twirl madly on its wooden perch, croaking out the same line over and over again. “Take off, eh? Tak
e off! Jacko!” A black cat sat on top of a china hutch in the dining room and stared down at him.
“How did that bird know my name?”
“Oh, she calls every man Jacko. A previous owner taught her to talk.” Hannah called from the kitchen. Jack moved a little farther into the living room.
Other than the weird pets, the place was very nice. Cozy. Inviting. Nicely furnished. A calm peaceful place, sort of the way he’d like the farmhouse to be done up once the cleaners were through with it. Ira Chesley had lived in bachelor squalor, which Jack abhorred. He’d hired a crew of cleaners to come in from Vulcan, and they were finishing up on the weekend.
“Thanks so much for the flowers!” She glanced at him as he came back to stand at the entrance to the kitchen. “It’s very thoughtful of you.” She seemed genuinely pleased, and he was glad now that he’d brought them. He watched as she stood on tiptoe and reached into a high cupboard for a glass vase, noting with appreciation the sleek line of the velvet over her bottom, her long legs—
“Nice place here,” he said, turning around. No need for her to catch him leering. “How long’s your friend away?”
“Friend? Oh…oh, a while. I’m not sure. She’s on a…a tour of some kind. In Europe.”
“I suppose it isn’t that easy to get away when you’ve got a cranky parrot.”
Hannah laughed. It occurred to him again that she had a delightful laugh, very musical and low. Sexy.
“No, you’re right there.” She clipped each stem of the mixed bouquet—lilies, carnations, mums, whatever—and inserted it into the vase, rearranging a couple of blooms before she was satisfied.
“Don’t you work?”
She looked startled, even alarmed. The scissors clattered to the counter. He frowned. “Oh, yes, I do. But I’m on holiday right now.”
“I see.” He thrust his hands into the pockets of his new trousers. He’d spent a bundle on clothes last weekend, both for social occasions and for work. His bush garb of jeans and the all-weather jackets he wore for prospecting wouldn’t do now that he was back in civilization.
“There!” She smiled up at him. “Lovely. You can set this on the dining-room table and I’ll just grab my coat.”
He carried the flowers into the living-dining area. Very pleasant, he thought again. Coral walls, comfortable-looking furniture, polished end tables. Everything neat and tidy. There was an oval needlework frame standing by a chair, with a partly completed piece of work on it. Looked like the friend was a real homebody. Jack had a flash of regret. She seemed the kind of woman he’d thought might one day be for him.
Until he’d met Hannah.
He placed the vase in the center of the dining table, a square antique-looking piece of furniture with four chairs pulled up, all with seats in a striped plum fabric. Classy. He noticed a manila folder on the table, neatly marked, “Town of Glory—Seth Wilbee.”
“Well?” She appeared with a wrap over her arm, some slinky sexy thing. Purple and blue, all kinds of colors. It looked terrific with that long reddish hair. He’d remembered it as being more vivid last week. It seemed more auburn now. And curlier. “Ready whenever you are.”
She acted a bit nervous and Jack wondered why as he followed her out of the apartment. She locked the door carefully and didn’t say anything when he took her arm. “You like Japanese food?” he asked, realizing he hadn’t really checked her preference.
“Oh, yes. Anything,” she answered, with a breathless laugh. Maybe she was just glad to be going out. Glory hadn’t impressed him as a very exciting town. He didn’t think much had changed since the years he’d spent summers here with his uncle Ira. When he was a kid, he hadn’t noticed. Now he still didn’t care, because he wasn’t looking for excitement. Not since he’d made the decision to settle down, to get married, to start farming, to live a whole different life.
“What happened to your car?” She sounded surprised. His shiny nearly new Dodge pickup was parked at the curb.
“I sold it. Picked this up in Calgary the other day. Not new, but a little more useful now that I’m a farmer. I hope you don’t mind riding in a truck?” Probably most of her dates drove some kind of flashy up-to-date vehicle. He felt a twinge of nostalgia for the Mustang he’d sold.
“Heavens no! You should see my old clunker.” She laughed and got into the passenger side and Jack closed the door.
Heavens no. He hadn’t heard that expression in a long long time. Now, if only the restaurant was decent. Jack wasn’t particularly keen on foreign food, but he figured it was just the kind of trendy thing a woman like Hannah would enjoy.
He glanced at her. She’d buckled her seat belt and was looking out the window with interest. A lot of houses still had Halloween decorations up.
Jack took a deep breath. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he should’ve left well enough alone. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone back to her sister’s like that, to track her down. But…he knew he wasn’t crazy. If he hadn’t made the effort, he’d always wonder. It was better this way, to find out if his instincts about Hannah Parrish were right.
If they were…well, he’d have to decide what to do next.
CHAPTER SIX
“WHY FARMING? I like taking chances.” He flashed her a winning smile that had her smiling back. “Planting a crop in the spring and hoping to make money off it in the fall is risky,” he went on.
“What about your uncle?” Hannah said, leaning forward. “Will he be coming back?” They’d had to wait a little before they could be seated in the small restaurant and were enjoying a drink before dinner. Enjoying? Well, Jack was having a beer, a Japanese brand. He was probably enjoying it. In a panic, Hannah had ordered something called a “sidecar” off the cocktail menu, and it was disgusting. She rarely touched anything but sherry or a glass of wine with dinner.
“He’s at the Crowfoot, extended care. Healed up fairly well, but he’s weak. An old man.” Jack shook his head and frowned. She felt her heart go out to him. He obviously had a great deal of affection for Ira Chesley. “He’ll need more care than I can provide if I bring him home to Glory. His house is a mess. What my aunt Minnie would have called a typical bachelor’s place.” Jack laughed and took a sip of his beer, the devil-may-care look back on his face. “I’ve hired cleaners, but I need someone to fix it up. I’m no decorator. You know anyone in that line of work?”
Hannah would’ve loved to take on a job like that. She adored decorating. But how could she offer when he thought she was only a house sitter, someone who’d been accidentally plunked in Glory for a few weeks? She admired the way he felt about his uncle, a rather dour, grumpy old man—at least, that was how he seemed to her. Most guys wouldn’t dream of assuming that kind of responsibility for an elderly uncle.
“You want to come out and take a look at the joint? Maybe give me some ideas?”
“Your farmhouse? Sure! I’d love to.” Hannah made an effort to hold back her enthusiasm. She reminded herself that this evening was the only time she’d be spending with Jack. She couldn’t keep this up. Nails, hair, clothes—all lies. Plus, she’d decided that the red rinse was finally showing signs of fading. Soon she’d be back to her usual brown. Eight shampoos! What a laugh. More like eighteen.
“Another one?” He held up his drink. The waitress was headed their way.
“No.” She shook her head.
“Didn’t like it, huh?” he said with a curious glance at her nearly full glass.
“No. Sorry—I’m not much of a drinker.” She shook her head again. Maybe that wasn’t what Emily or one of her friends would have admitted. But she wasn’t her sophisticated younger sister. Not by a long shot. And there was a limit to how much she could pretend.
She watched as Jack talked to the waitress. He was easygoing, familiar, friendly. Emily was right. Jack was a handsome guy. He had on a dark-blue crew-neck—could it be cashmere?—a snazzy sports jacket and charcoal trousers. Everything looked new. Earlier, Hannah had noticed he was wearing an old Rolex. The really c
lassy kind. Stainless steel. Not that modern Rolexes weren’t classy, but, well, there was something about that forties and fifties style that never got old.
Sometimes she felt she should have been born then. She definitely did not suit a new millennium with her interests: cooking, needlework, watercolor painting, animals, gardening, old three-hanky black-and-white movies, books. She liked ballroom dancing, too, but she’d never met a man, apart from her father, who was any good at it.
“Hannah?”
She was startled at the sudden warm feel of his hand on hers. “Y-yes?”
“We can go in now.” He held her gaze for a few seconds and Hannah felt her blood swoosh. She caught her breath. His smile painted a picture for her, and it was an X-rated picture. She was in way over her head. Really, how desperate was she to allow herself be swept along in something like this? Well, she’d had the option of coming clean. On the phone. And she hadn’t, had she?
He took her hand as they followed the hostess into the small dining room. Hannah felt very conspicuous. The place was sparely but beautifully furnished with smooth wood furniture of birch or beech and lots of subdued lighting. The sound of water trickling came from a small pond installed near the door. She could see the flash of goldfish and wondered if the copper pennies she saw glittering on the bottom harmed the fish.
Even though they’d had to wait, the place wasn’t that busy, less than a third occupied. Maybe they were short-staffed, Hannah thought as she accepted the large menu handed her by a smiling Japanese woman. There was some tinkly kind of music playing quietly in the background, faintly annoying.
“I’ve never been here before,” Jack confided, leaning forward. “I’ve heard it’s decent grub.”
He didn’t look that hopeful. Hannah smiled. She’d never had Japanese food before, either.
The menu was a mystery. She’d heard of sushi, but wasn’t entirely sure what it was. Neither of them knew what sunomono was, and the cryptic English translation beneath the Japanese wasn’t really helpful. Gyoza?
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