"As all right as a cockeyed cat with a bad attitude can ever be."
"He got away from me last night. I was so worried."
"You can stop worrying. Just come and get him."
She almost agreed, but then reconsidered. "Jack. It's pretty obvious he wants to be with you."
"Great." Jack muttered something low and uncouth.
"Give Chuck Swan a little something extra, and I'm sure he'll let you keep Buzz in your room."
"I don't want Buzz in my room."
"Oh, stop fighting it, Jack. Buzz has chosen you. Accept your fate."
"I hate that word."
"I've got a litter box and lots of cat food here, if you want to drop by and pick it up."
"I'm making do."
"Well, it's all here if you want it."
"Thanks."
She sensed he was about to hang up, so she quickly added, "We missed you last night."
"I'll bet."
"Everyone said the food was superb. And the company was … interesting."
"I have no doubts about the food."
"Thank you. Oh, and don't forget. You owe me fifty dollars."
"Minus whatever I have to fork over to Chuck to keep a cat in my room."
She pretended to have to think that over. "Well. All right. You can deduct Buzz's expenses, but nothing else."
"I'm so grateful."
"Good."
"You have a nice time with your father," he muttered darkly.
"Thank you. I will."
She heard the click from his end before she could find something else to say to keep him on the line. She sighed. And then she hugged the receiver and stared dreamily out the window over the breakfast table. All right, it hadn't exactly been a tender tête-à-tête, but at least he had called.
About then her father stumbled in wanting to know where she kept the aspirin. She was forced to hang up the phone and hunt down the pain reliever.
Olivia made German pancakes for breakfast. Later she and her guests walked the wooded paths near the house together. They talked of ordinary things. Her father asked her if perhaps she'd like to go shopping for that four-by-four she'd mentioned she needed. Olivia thanked him but refused.
That night she took her guests to dinner at the Mercantile Grill. They complimented the food and the service, and she knew they meant what they said. The Grill was a fine place to eat. Later, back at the house, they played Hearts with a deck of cards that Olivia had found in the hall closet.
Monday it rained. But still Mindy decided to borrow one of the umbrellas Olivia had found in the attic and walk over to Main Street
. Olivia and Lawrence were left alone in the house, sitting in the two easy chairs in the living room by the cozy fire in the stove.
Olivia knew what was coming. Mindy had been transparent in her efforts to give father and daughter some time alone.
"What happened to the cat?" her father asked, after a few moments of companionable silence had passed. He was staring at the friendly flames through the little window in the stove.
"He went looking for Jack."
"And found him?"
"Yes."
"Is that good?"
"I think so."
Her father shifted in his chair a little. "Is this serious, then, between you and Roper?"
Olivia spoke with quiet conviction. "Yes, it is. Very serious. It's also momentous, wonderful, scary and sad."
Her father let out a long breath. "Whew. That about says it all."
"Yes."
"You love this man?"
"Yes."
"You know, you never told me you loved Cameron."
Olivia only looked at him and then looked away.
"I didn't fire him," her father said softly.
"You mean Cameron? I'm glad."
"He quit. He said he felt the working conditions would be too difficult, after what had happened. He's found something else already, of course."
"I'm not surprised. He's a great salesman."
Her father took out one of his wintergreen mints, but didn't unwrap it. "Liwy, I…"
Olivia waited, giving him time to frame his words.
"Are you happy, Liwy?"
She thought before answering, taking time to tuck her legs up beside her and lean on the armrest of her chair. "In most everything, yes. This town is just the place for me. And you know I always wanted to cook for a living. I feel that I'm just where I should be, doing just what I should be doing."
"But?"
Olivia picked at a worn place on the chair arm and then stopped herself. She decided she didn't want to talk about Jack right then. She said gently, "It's my problem, Dad."
Her father looked out the window. Olivia watched his Adam's apple work as he swallowed. "You were always such a sensitive girl. I wanted to protect you from the world, from all the cruel things out there."
"I know."
"I still want to protect you."
"But you can't."
He hung his head. "I know. At last, I know. I was terrified when you disappeared. It reminded me…"
"Of my mother?"
Her father looked at her. His eyes were haunted. "Yes." Again, as she had a thousand times, she ached for him and the horror he must have known all those years ago, when her mother was kidnapped.
Olivia felt the sting of guilt. "I'm so sorry that I ran off like that, Dad. I can understand what you must have felt. If I had it to do again, I'd do it differently."
He forced a smile. "But if you'd done it differently, would you have ended up here, in this town you say is just the place for you?"
She leaned her head on her hand and felt a musing smile lifting the corners of her mouth. "You know, I believe that I would have. I believe that somehow I would have found my way here. I believe that some things are meant to be."
Her father looked at her and shook his head. "You always were a fanciful girl."
"Hmm. Still fanciful, maybe. But not a girl anymore."
Quietly he said, "Your Jack Roper bears a striking resemblance to most of the members of the Jones family."
She took in a breath and let it out. "You've noticed."
"Has he noticed?"
"Not that he's admitted to me."
"Oh, Liwy. I hope you know what you're doing with a man like that."
She reached across and patted his hand. "Dad, it's my life, remember? I get to create my own successes. And make my mistakes for myself."
"I know. I keep telling myself that."
"And I appreciate that you're finally letting me work things out for myself."
"If you need anything, or even if you just want to talk, you know I'm here."
"I know, Dad. And thank you." She watched fondly as he unwrapped the mint he was still holding in his hand.
Lawrence and Mindy left at three Monday afternoon for the forty-five-minute drive to Marysville where Lawrence's plane waited. Olivia hugged them both in turn and then stood on the porch out of the drizzly rain, waving as they drove away.
Her small house seemed very empty after they'd gone. She sat close to the fire and tried to read for a while.
Then she thought of calling Eden, who spent more time at home now that she was so close to her delivery day. Or maybe she could visit Amy or Regina. They'd each be glad to see her. Even Delilah would probably be home from school by now.
But in the end she did what she knew she probably shouldn't do. She put all the cat supplies from the back porch into two plastic bags, grabbed an umbrella and headed for Swan's Motel.
Unfortunately the drizzle had turned to a downpour. And a wind had come up, so the umbrella didn't do much good. By the time she reached Jack's room, she was as drenched as she'd been the night he'd followed her from Las Vegas and picked her up on that lonely, twisting mountain road.
Since it wasn't serving any purpose, anyway, she collapsed the umbrella and then, bravely, she used the handle to knock on the door.
Jack answered within seconds. Her heart
did that silly flip-flop it always performed when she saw him. He was wearing jeans and a blue chambray shirt. His feet were bare and the shirt was unbuttoned. He looked so good, he broke her heart. Behind him she could hear the drone of a TV.
She didn't miss the quick flash of gladness that lit his face nor the way he turned the gladness into a scowl.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
She held up the plastic bags and tried to display a degree of savoir faire, even though her eye makeup was probably running down her cheeks and she knew her hair was plastered to her head. "I brought the cat supplies."
He reached out and dragged her into the room, then shut the door. She was aware of a lot of plaid and pine—pine-paneled walls, a pine dresser, table, chairs and nightstand. From the unmade plaid-covered bed, Buzz granted her a sleepy cross-eyed glance.
Jack strode to the television, which was suspended from the ceiling in the corner by the door to the bathroom. He switched it off. The rain outside was suddenly a low, steady roar.
He turned and confronted her, planting a fist on his hip in a blatant display of male displeasure. "You're soaking wet."
"Very observant," she muttered, and took the few steps to the table, where she set down the bags and the dripping umbrella. She began to peel off her soaked outerwear.
"Don't take those off."
"Why not?"
"You're not staying."
She shrugged and took them off, anyway, pulling a chair over by the ancient-looking wall heater and hanging the wet things there in hopes that, by the time she left, they would be at least somewhat drier. That done, she marched right past him to the bathroom, where she grabbed a towel off the rack and dried her hair a little.
He stood in the doorway, watching her, a muscle in his jaw working furiously. She pretended to be utterly unconcerned, though her heart was racing and her skin felt prickly and warm.
She saw in the bathroom mirror that her eye makeup was a mess. She bore a faint resemblance to a waterlogged raccoon. Since there were no tissues that she could see near the cracked sink, she rolled off a few sheets of toilet paper and blotted up the mess around her eyes as best she could.
"Don't ever do this again," he warned, leaning in the doorway and crossing his arms over his beautiful scarred chest.
She locked glances with him in the streaked mirror above the sink. "Do what?"
"Don't come here."
"Why not?"
Suddenly he seemed unable to remain still. He left the doorway, turning for the main room. "Just don't." He muttered the words over his shoulder.
Olivia tossed her smudged makeshift tissues into the open commode and threw the towel she'd used across the sink. She went to the doorway herself and leaned in it.
"I asked you why not?" Her tone was blatantly hostile. He shot her a sharp glance, probably wondering why she was suddenly showing antagonism. She hadn't uttered an angry word around him in two weeks. Since the day he'd found her here in North Magdalene, she'd been all sweetness and light.
But something inside her had cracked. She had come here only to make another gentle, good-natured attempt to get closer to him.
But it just wasn't working. She was tired of answering his surly looks and muttered commands with sweet smiles.
It had finally happened. She was fed up with him. Jack dropped to the end of the bed.
Buzz, jostled, let out a meow of complaint and then yawned hugely, exhibiting a multitude of sharp yellow teeth.
Jack rested his elbows on his knees and looked her up and down. "You didn't get that wet running from your new car to the door of this room. You walked over here." It was an accusation.
She refused to be intimidated. "I'll ask you again. Why don't you want me to come here?"
Again, he didn't answer, only fired more questions at her. "What are you doing walking over here in a downpour like this? Where's that new car of yours?"
She bit her tongue and looked away.
"Answer me. Where is it?"
She made herself look back at him, square in the eye. "There is no new car. I didn't buy one."
"You said—"
"I lied."
That gave him pause. He eyed her sideways. "What do you mean, you lied?"
"I mean, I never intended to buy a vehicle this weekend. I never intended to buy a vehicle at all. Not for a while, anyway."
"Why not?"
She let out a little puff of air. "Think about it."
He raked his hair back with a hand. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, yes you do. You know. We both know. But we're supposed to pretend we don't know."
"You're making no sense."
"You say that. But you know it's not true. I'm making perfect sense." She kicked away from the doorway and marched over to him.
Hands on her hips, she glared at him. Then, with a low groan of frustration, she turned away. She went to the window that faced the landing. Lifting the plaid curtain, she looked out through the gray mist and driving rain at the box-shaped building across the way.
She heard him rise, though he made no sound. She felt his approach and the warmth of him so near behind her.
She didn't turn, only continued to look out at the rain. Neither spoke for a time, then she told him, "I can't take much more of this, Jack. It hurts too much. You're going to have to decide whether to stay or to go."
"I have decided." His voice was rough and low. "I'll be going. As soon as I'm sure…"
She dropped the curtain and whirled on him. "Sure of what?"
"That you'll be all right."
"You're telling me that you're still here because you feel responsible for me?"
"Yes."
"Liar."
He flinched, but recovered. One side of his mouth lifted in a threatening sneer. "Watch yourself."
"Liar."
"Don't—"
"Liar."
The third time was the charm. He took her by the arms and hauled her tight against his chest. He looked into her upturned face. "Stop this. Stop it now."
"No."
"Why are you doing this?"
"I love you, Jack."
"Shut up."
"Kiss me." Brazen, shameless as she'd always been with him, she stood on tiptoe, so her mouth was only inches from his. "Kiss me," she whispered, feeling his breath caress her lips. "It's what you want to do. What you always want to do."
"No."
"Liar."
"Shut up."
"Kiss me."
"I ought to…"
"Yes. Yes. Do it. Kiss me now."
Within the sound of the pounding rain and the angry wind, there was a silence, a moment of absolute stillness. Olivia looked into Jack's eyes. She saw the heat there. She felt his heart pounding in time with hers.
His mouth descended those final crucial millimeters. She sighed, a sigh of longing and hope.
But the kiss never happened. Instead he straightened his arms and very gently pushed her away from him. He dropped his arms.
They looked at each other. Outside the rain droned on.
He said, "I'm no good for you. We both know it."
She bit her lip and shook her head.
"I'm a guy who makes his living by keeping on the move. I'm not the right man for you. I'm … I'm useless to you as a partner in life."
"You are so wrong."
"You say that now."
"I'll say it forever if you give me a chance."
"Olivia…"
"I'm tired of playing games with you, Jack. Of going along with you so you won't decide there's nothing more to keep you here. If you're leaving, you're leaving. We can at least have honesty between us when you go."
"What do you mean?" His eyes were wary.
"I mean there was no cougar."
He blinked. "No cougar?"
"Right. No cougar. No scary animal in the woods at all. Oggie and I cooked that up to get you to come to my rescue, since you were avoiding me completely at the time
." She sucked in a breath and told the rest. "And I never planned to get a car until things were worked out between you and me. If I bought a car, then how would I talk you into driving me to Grass Valley to buy groceries?" Raising her chin, she looked at him as proudly as she could. "So now you know how I've lied to you just for the chance to be near you."
"Olivia—"
"I'm not through. I said I lied. And I did. But at least I knew exactly what I was doing. But you're telling the worst kind of lies, Jack. You're lying to yourself. You're here for more reasons than because you feel responsible for me. I know it. Oggie knows it. Everyone in town knows it. Except you, apparently." Swiftly she strode to the chair and grabbed her wet things. Then she snatched up the umbrella. "And I just hope you get honest with yourself before it's too late."
With that she turned for the door, flung it wide and walked out into the storm.
She didn't get far. Jack caught up with her in his car just as she reached the turn from Pine Street
to Rambling Lane
. He rolled up beside her, leaned across to the passenger door and pushed it open.
She stopped, turned and looked at him as the rain poured down on her and the wind whipped at her clothing. Here she was, all over again, being rescued from a rainstorm by Jack.
"Get in."
She slid into the seat and pulled the door closed. He turned from the curb and drove straight to her house. As soon as the car stopped, she leaned on her door. But he reached across and held her there.
She looked straight ahead. "What is it, Jack?"
He said nothing.
She faced him. "You don't know what to say, do you? Because there's nothing to say. Until you make up your mind."
"I have made up my mind."
This was the same impasse they'd reached in his room. She'd had enough of it. "Let me go, Jack."
He released her. She slid from the car, ran up the steps and into the house.
* * *
Chapter 15
« ^ »
Jack drove back to his room knowing the time had come to leave. As Olivia had so forthrightly confessed, there was no cougar and she could buy a vehicle anytime she wanted one.
And there was more. He'd seen it in the proud, high set to her shoulders, in the uncompromising glint in her eye. Somehow, during the brief time she had been in this small mountain town, Olivia had come into her own as a grown woman at last.
A HOME FOR THE HUNTER Page 17
