Mac shook his head. “Carrie, you are hopelessly naïve. I might admire your desire to look for the good in people, but good simply does not exist in some people. That Wilder boy is one of those people. He’s rotten to the core.” His imperious finger aimed in her direction again. “He’s after your money, Carrie, plain and simple. He smelled it the minute he spotted you, and he plotted from the beginning how to win you so he could get at your wealth.”
Carrie rose from the table, heat filling her face. She prayed for control as she forced a quiet tone. “You’re wrong, Mac. If Rocky were after my money, he’d be sitting in that chair right now, doing his best to impress you and win you over. But he isn’t there, is he? He didn’t show. He didn’t show because he’s scared to death of my money. He knows he doesn’t have any, and he thinks that makes him unworthy. You think that makes him unworthy. But I don’t. In God’s eyes we’re all equal, and—”
Mac waved his hand, rolling his eyes. “Don’t bring God into it, Carrie.”
“I have to bring God into it,” she insisted, surprising herself with her boldness. “I can’t set Him aside. He’s a part of me.” She took a step toward her stepfather and touched his arm. “Mac, I know you’re only acting out of concern for me, and I want you to know I appreciate it. But you’ve got to understand—you’re wrong about Rocky.”
Mac jerked his arm away and thrust out his jaw. “I don’t believe I am.”
“Think about it.” Carrie used her best persuasive tone, swinging her gaze back and forth to include both of her parents. “If he wanted something from me, wouldn’t he be pursuing me? Instead he’s running away. Doesn’t that prove anything to you?”
Mac stood and tossed his napkin on the table. He towered over Carrie with flashing eyes. “It proves to me he’s wily enough to have found a way to hoodwink you. And you’re foolish enough to fall for it.” He raised both hands in defeat. “Fine, Carrie. Believe what you want to believe. But when he’s absconded with your trust fund and left you crying in a gutter, don’t come creeping to me for a handout. The agreement your mother and I reached was that when your inheritance from your father became available, you are no longer my concern. My responsibility toward you ends on your twenty-fifth birthday, young woman, so don’t anticipate receiving a penny of Steinwood assets. And you’d better carefully consider how much you trust that Wilder boy.”
Without giving Carrie a chance to reply, he turned and stomped from the room. His final words had struck like blows, leaving Carrie feeling as though her heart was bruised. She turned to her mother, and her voice quivered as she asked, “Is what he just said true? You discussed my no longer being a part of the Steinwood family after I turn twenty-five?”
“Now, Carrie, there is enough money in the trust fund set up with your father’s assets to—”
“It isn’t the money I’m worried about, Mother!” Carrie could hardly believe what she was hearing. Couldn’t anyone see beyond the money to the relationship? “I’ve spent the last twenty years in this house. I know Mac and I have had our differences, but he’s the only father I know. He plans to simply cut me loose when I no longer need his financial support?”
Her mother lowered her gaze, refusing to answer. That gave Carrie all the answer she needed. Rejected. Again. Her heart ached with the implication. She muttered, “I’ve got to get out of here.” She headed for the door. She heard her mother call her name—she heard the apology in her tone—but she ignored it and kept going. Obviously she could not depend on her mother and stepfather. She had to find out whether she could depend on Rocky.
❧
Rocky gave an all-body stretch that lifted his feet from the footrest of the recliner. He set the gardening book he’d been reading aside and padded to the kitchen. Removing a bottle of pop from his fridge, he unscrewed the top and drank directly from the bottle. Just as he placed the bottle back on the shelf, someone knocked on his front door.
Frowning, he glanced at the clock. Who would be out here now? A couple of years ago his friends dropped by at all hours, cases of beer in hand, ready to party. But visitors were few and far between now that he’d given up those wild habits. He crossed to the door and swung it wide then nearly fell backward when he saw who stood on the metal steps that served as his porch.
“Carrie?”
She didn’t wait for an invitation, just opened the screen door and stepped in as if she’d been there a dozen times before. Embarrassment washed over him as he took in her neat appearance. Her pale orange pants, just high enough to show off her shapely ankles, and the sleeveless top sporting pastel-colored squares on a white background made him think of a garden styled by Van Gogh. Standing there in his cut-off jeans shorts and missing-sleeves T-shirt, he wished he could dive behind the recliner and hide.
“Hi, Rocky. I’m sorry to intrude on you this way, but I couldn’t reach you by telephone.”
Her sweet voice held none of the loathing he deserved for his despicable treatment. The desire to hide increased. “Yeah. . . .” He scratched his head. “I’ve been—” But he had no excuse, and he wouldn’t lie to her. He blew out a lengthy breath and admitted, “I haven’t been answering my phone.” He frowned. “How did you know where to find me?”
She raised one eyebrow. “Your brother, Philip, gave me directions. He’s a nice guy.”
He wondered if that last comment was meant to be a barb. If so, he deserved it. He let it pass. “Well, come on in and sit down. It’s nothing fancy.” What an understatement. How could his used trailer, although he kept it clean, hope to compare to the mansion in which she lived? Still, she showed no disdain as she crossed to the afghan-draped sofa and seated herself.
Rocky perched in his recliner, but he left it upright. He found himself blurting out, “I’m sorry I don’t have a nicer house. I thought maybe one day I’d build one out here, but in the meantime. . .”
Carrie shook her head, a soft smile on her face. “Rocky, quit apologizing. I don’t care what kind of house you live in. All I care about is you. And I have to tell you, you had me worried when you didn’t show up last night as we’d planned. I was afraid something had happened to you.”
Rocky hung his head, guilt striking hard. He should have considered that. He hadn’t meant to worry her. “I’m sorry about that.” He hoped she knew he meant it.
“What happened?”
He brought his head up to meet her gaze. She looked so sweet and concerned, no hint of the anger she should be feeling evident in her eyes. He couldn’t answer her, though. He needed to know something. “Carrie, why do you care at all about me?”
The question seemed to startle her. She straightened, her eyes widening, her lips parting as if searching for words. After a moment she asked, her voice filled with confusion, “Is there some reason why I shouldn’t?”
Rocky stood and threw his arms outward. “There’re at least a dozen reasons why you shouldn’t! Look at me. Look at this place. Then look at yourself. What do you want with me?”
“Your friendship.” The answer came quickly.
“Why?” He fired the word.
She offered a soft laugh, lifting her shoulders in a graceful shrug. “I don’t know. I just know I do. I like you, Rocky.”
Her words took the bones out of his legs. At least that’s how he felt. Suddenly they couldn’t hold him up anymore. He sat back in his chair and shook his head, amazed. He admitted, “I like you, too, Carrie.”
“Then why’d you let me down?”
For the first time he heard genuine pain in her voice. Without conscious thought he reached for her. Her hand met his and clung hard. In her grasp he sensed the hurt he’d caused her, and his chest tightened in remorse.
“I’m so sorry, Carrie. I shouldn’t have left you sitting there alone last night. It was cowardly of me. But when I saw you with that man Wednesday night—”
“Man? You mean Carl?”
Rocky shrugged. “I don’t know his name. He showed up at the end of the Bible study and fol
lowed you home. When I saw you with him, I just thought you two. . .I don’t know. . .fit. And I knew I didn’t. Not with you. Not like he does. So. . .I backed off.”
She gave his hand a tug. “Rocky, whatever you thought you saw, Carl and I most certainly do not fit. He has no use for God, and that’s reason enough for me to keep my distance. But there’s more. Carl wants me to believe he’s interested in me, but I happen to know he’s most interested in my money.” She lowered her gaze, her forehead creasing. But when she lifted her head again, her expression had cleared. “I can’t be with someone who only wants what I can give, monetarily. Does that make sense?”
Rocky thought about what she’d said. He had to admit, the idea of all that wealth was appealing. He wouldn’t be honest if he said otherwise. Yet there was so much more to Carrie than her wealth. The fact that she’d come looking for him, was worried about him, told him a great deal about her heart. He nodded. “Yes. It makes sense.”
“Good.” She withdrew her hand and tipped her head, fixing him with a steady gaze. “I forgive you for standing me up last night, but you do owe me.”
He felt a grin tug at his cheek. “Oh yeah?”
“Yes. I got no supper last night because of you.”
“I’m really sorry about that, Carrie.”
“Prove it.”
He raised one brow. “How?”
“Buy me lunch. Tomorrow. I want sandwiches and fruit at the park. You know where the duck pond is?”
He nodded.
“One o’clock at the duck pond. Tuna salad with raw spinach. Golden Delicious apples with caramel dip. And lemonade to drink.”
He couldn’t help himself. A chuckle rumbled from his chest. She didn’t pull any punches, and he liked it. “And that’ll serve as a proper apology?”
“As long as the apples are crisp, not mealy,” she retorted with a grin.
He laughed out loud. “Okay, Carrie, you’ve got it. I’ll be there.”
She looked at him, her expression suddenly wary. “Really? You’ll be there?”
He saw the insecurity lurking beneath the surface. It pained him how much his failure to show up last night had cost her. He took her hand and said earnestly, “I’ll be there.”
She smiled and rose. “Good. See you tomorrow, Rocky.” She slipped out the door.
He sure hoped the grocery store had some fresh, crisp, Golden Delicious apples in their produce department.
Ten
Rocky didn’t bother to change out of his church clothes before meeting Carrie. She’d said be there by one o’clock, and he was determined to be early so there’d be no question in her mind as to whether he was coming. The grocery store not only had crisp Golden Delicious apples, but it also had a deli with tuna salad, so he had the sandwiches made there. On impulse he grabbed a loaf of white bread from the day-old case. Carrie could feed it to the ducks.
He found half-liter bottles of lemonade in the cooler beside the check-out counter, paid for his purchases and piled everything in a plastic grocery sack. Nothing fancy, but he knew Carrie wouldn’t mind. It was one of the things he admired about her—she didn’t put on airs.
When he arrived at the park, several other people were already gathered in small clusters or pairs, but he didn’t see Carrie. He walked to the duck pond and sat gingerly on the grass. He didn’t want grass stains on his good pants. He heard a burst of laughter from one of the groups, and it made him feel lonely as he sat by himself. Suddenly insecurity hit. Would Carrie come? Not showing up would be a good pay-back for what he’d done to her last Friday night. But as quickly as the fear stabbed, he pushed it aside. Carrie wasn’t vindictive. She’d be here.
He was right. He’d no more than had the thought when he heard her sweet voice from behind him.
“You’re right on time.”
Peeking over his shoulder, he watched her approach, graceful in a pair of strappy sandals and flowing sundress. Her hair lay loose across her shoulders, the sun catching the shimmering strands of blond. It struck him again how beautiful she was. And she wanted to be with him. He didn’t deserve her at all.
He rose and greeted her with a quick, impersonal hug, wishing he had the courage to give her a kiss. “You look so pretty—too fancy for a picnic.”
She smiled and flipped his tie with the ends of her fingers. “What about you? You look like an executive in your tie.”
He felt a blush building, but it was strictly due to pleasure, not embarrassment. Who else would tell Rocky Wilder he looked like an executive? Uncertain how to reply, he changed the subject. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring a blanket or anything. I’m afraid you’ll get your dress dirty.”
“Did you bring the food?”
“Oh yeah. Just what you asked for.”
“Then I’m satisfied,” she said, and her smile proved it.
“Well, then, here.” He removed the items from the bag then pressed the square of plastic flat against the grass. “You sit on this. At least it’ll protect your skirt.”
“Thanks.” She flashed him another smile and seated herself. Her movements were so graceful, Rocky felt like a clod plunking down beside her.
He handed her a sandwich and bottle of lemonade, leaving the bag of apples and tub of caramel dip in his lap. “These can be dessert,” he said, indicating the apples.
“Perfect.” She tipped her head. “Do you want to say grace?”
He nodded and bowed his head. “Dear Lord, thank You for the beautiful day, the beautiful companion, and this picnic lunch. Bless the food so it may nourish us to do Your service. Amen.” Although praying in front of others usually made him self-conscious, it seemed natural with Carrie. When he opened his eyes, he found Carrie’s gaze fixed on him.
“That was perfect, Rocky. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He swallowed, forcing his focus away from her beguiling blue eyes and to his sandwich. “Better eat. The breeze’ll dry out your bread.”
Two ducks waddled in their direction, and Rocky handed Carrie the loaf of day-old bread. “I think your friends are hungry. They’ll take your sandwich if you aren’t careful. Throw them some of that bread.”
She laughed. “What a wonderful idea!” She opened the loaf, tore one piece in half and tossed it to the ducks. Their happy clamor immediately drew a crowd. Carrie had the bag empty in no time, but the ducks quacked for more. She looked at Rocky with raised brows. “Now what?”
“Greedy quackers,” he muttered. “Well, I’m not giving them my lunch. Come on. Maybe if we move off a bit, they’ll get the hint and go bother someone else.”
Fortunately his suggestion proved true. When they moved to a picnic table in the shade, the ducks waddled off toward another group of picnickers. Carrie watched them go, a soft smile curving her lips.
“I haven’t fed the ducks in years. Not since I was a very little girl. My dad brought me to the park to feed the ducks.” She turned to look at Rocky, and he saw a hint of sadness in the depth of her eyes. “He’s been gone for twenty years, but sometimes I still think about him.”
“Yeah. Mine died four years ago. I think of him sometimes too.” He didn’t add that the memories weren’t pleasant ones.
“Mom married Mac less than a year after Dad’s death. He and my dad had been friends. Mac isn’t nearly as warm and loving as my dad was, but at least I’ve had someone in that role.” Carrie took a bite of her sandwich and chewed, her expression thoughtful. “Dads are pretty important people, you know? I’ve been thinking about the Bible study at church. I didn’t realize how much a dad can influence how you see God.”
Rocky frowned, not sure he understood what she meant. “How so?”
She pursed her lips for a moment. “Well, for instance, if you grew up with a very loving, protective dad, you’d see God as loving and protective. But if you grew up with a distant dad, one who only talked to you when you did something wrong, then you’d see God as a punitive figure, only there to make you feel shamed.”
Rock
y considered this. His dad had been hard, unyielding in his expectations, rarely affectionate. When he’d first heard about God, he couldn’t imagine that God would care about him. Now he wondered how much of that idea came from his relationship with his father. He remembered how he’d resisted even thinking of God as Father. Carrie must be right.
She went on. “Mac hasn’t been all that loving, but I do have my memories of my real dad, and all of those are good. That must be where I based my ideas of God, because as soon as someone told me about God I was ready to embrace Him.” She flashed him a smile. “Being a Christian, being part of God’s family, is the best thing I can think of.”
“Even better than being rich,” Rocky remarked, recalling how all his life he’d simply wanted wealth. Now it didn’t seem to matter so much. But his words made Carrie flinch. He touched her arm. “What’s wrong?”
She put her sandwich down, her head low. “It’s always about money. . . .”
Rocky regretted his impulsive words, but he hadn’t meant them the way she took them. He tugged her arm, encouraging her to look up. “Carrie, I’m sorry I said that. It had more to do with me, and the way I used to be, than you.”
She looked at him with pain in her eyes. “You mean you can honestly look at me and not see my money?”
He pulled his hand back, searching for a truthful reply. His voice faltered as he answered. “Carrie, I like you. I really do. You’re sweet and pretty and fun. And when I just think of you as Carrie, I’m okay. It’s when the other intrudes—the realization that Carrie is also Caroline Steinwood—that’s when I have trouble.”
❧
Carrie nodded miserably. She suspected as much. It was unfair that Mac looked at Rocky and only saw the bad things Rocky had done. It was just as unfair that people looked at her and only saw her money. How to overcome those preconceived notions? She didn’t know. The happy feeling of picnicking with Rocky drifted away, replaced by regret. Maybe they’d never be able to overcome the issue of her money.
Well, if they were to try, Rocky would need to know the whole truth. She raised her gaze to look directly into his eyes. Their warm, velvety depths, open and attentive, gave her the courage she needed.
That Wilder Boy Page 8
