by Delia Latham
Glancing toward the guest carport, he noticed the fancy vehicle Autumn and her friend had arrived in was missing. The friend—what was her name? Autumn had called her something that was almost certainly a nickname—like an echo of the same alphabet letter. Gigi? Deedee? No, Ceci. She must be doing something on her own today. It was Autumn who had answered the door to Dalynn. No one else had hair quite that wild and vibrant.
He knelt beside the rear flowerbed, grinning as he always did at sight of the silly thing. A year or so ago, Miss Angie had asked him to find an appropriate bed frame in which to grow her beloved blooms. He’d found an old metal bed with headboard and footboard, sanded and primed it, and painted it bright purple. Miss Angie loved it at first sight, and set to work stenciling ivy and flowers on both pieces. Now, the inside of the frame sported quite an array of various blooms. To his surprise, it made a striking appearance, and always drew admiring comments from lodge visitors, many of whom reached for their cameras the moment they spotted the “flower bed.”
Russ was soon deep into the job at hand. He loved getting his hands dirty, digging in the soil, planting seeds and bulbs, tending them while he waited for the first tiny sprouts of green to make an appearance. Nothing in life, in his humble opinion, offered so much satisfaction as making things grow.
Voices distracted him once and he looked up. Autumn and Dalynn wandered the grounds hand in hand. The woman pointed up into a large oak tree and said something. A bright blue jay winged its way out of the branches and over their heads. Dalynn’s eyes rounded, and she stared into the tree for a long time, clearly hoping for another display of bird life. Finally, Autumn nudged her and they moved on.
Russ returned to his work, but sometime later he saw the two headed toward the private beach on the west edge of the property. Good. Dalynn could use a little sunshine. A pang of guilt pinched his heart when he stopped to think how seldom his daughter went anywhere besides school and church. Occasionally he’d take her into the village for a special treat at Seaside Freeze, but Russ wasn’t much of a shopper. They rarely wandered the Village just for something to do.
Dalynn’s only interaction with other children was at school. Russ never allowed her to sleep over with friends. His therapy hadn’t gotten him that far yet. He wanted her in their home, in her own bed. That was her place, and he needed her in it. Having sleepovers at their house wasn’t even an option. As a single dad, he didn’t want to open himself to accusations or innuendo by having children other than his own under his roof at night.
A hot wave of shame washed over Russ as he took a long, honest look at the secluded life his daughter led…mostly because of him. His need to protect. His anxieties. The amount of time he spent at work.
Perhaps a trip to Cayucos or Morro Bay would make a nice day trip. Yes, he’d plan on doing that with Dalynn. Soon. She’d probably love it if Autumn came along.
Russ groaned. While he had no doubt Dalynn would enjoy Autumn’s company, the bald truth was that he would love having her along. That kind of thinking would never do.
He finished his work in the flowerbed, put his tools away, and wandered the yard, but Autumn and his daughter were nowhere to be found. They must still be on the beach. Well, he could use a walk along the ocean. Even living right on the edge of the Pacific, Russ stayed so busy that he seldom took time to truly appreciate his surroundings.
He descended the wooden steps leading from the lodge grounds to the shoreline, and then scanned the beach in both directions. Ahh, there they were, a good distance south—sitting on the ground, and without a quilt under them. His brow furrowed. Dalynn would have sand all inside her clothing, to say nothing of her long hair. He should have laid out some guidelines before letting Autumn take his daughter to the beach.
A muscle worked overtime in his jaw. Russ tried to relax a bit when he realized his teeth were clenched. Pastor Brady Merckle’s advice during their last counseling session filled his mind.
“Take time to breathe deeply when you tense up, Russ. Count to ten and focus on relaxing each part of your body, from the head down. Seriously, man, give yourself a break. You’re way too uptight, and that’s not what God wants for you.”
“Well, then, He should pour a bucket of Rapid Relax over my head. Why doesn’t He?”
Brady had chuckled. “He certainly could do that. But God expects us to do our part too, Russ. He loves doing things for His children, but most of us think He ought to just hand out miracles like candy at a county fair. I know from a lifetime of learning the hard way that our heavenly Father, like most human fathers—including you—is far more likely to shower us with that kind of gift if He sees an effort on our part to make a change.”
Russ had nodded. Brady’s simple words made sense. That’s how he tried to teach Dalynn responsibility. If she wanted something out of the ordinary, she had to put forth some kind of out-of-the-ordinary effort. So he’d been working on reining in his obsessive-compulsive tendencies, curbing his anxieties, and handling his anger using breathing and relaxation techniques. Most of the time, they helped.
By the time he got close enough to realize Autumn and Dalynn were on the ground because they were building a sandcastle, he had managed to calm himself. Trouble was, frustration was quickly replaced by guilt. He’d never built a sandcastle with his daughter, and for a brief instant he harbored an unworthy jealousy that Autumn had one-upped him.
Dalynn spotted him first. “Daddy, Daddy! Look! Me’n Autumn are making a castle.”
Russ grinned and nodded at Autumn, who’d jumped like a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs at Dalynn’s shriek of welcome. Hadn’t she known he’d eventually show up to claim his kid?
He dropped onto the ground beside his beaming, disheveled daughter, trying not to see the wind-blown state of her hair—and refusing to even think about his own denim-clad knees digging into the sand.
“Wanna help us, Daddy? I’ll teach ya how.”
“Sure.” He grinned and reached out to tweak the tip of her nose. “If you can teach this old dog a new trick, I’d love to help.”
The child dropped backward, her hair in the sandy grit, little feet kicking up a minor sand storm.
Russ flinched but didn’t order her to sit up. Instead, he laughed along with Autumn at his daughter’s shrill giggles.
“You’re not a doggy! You’re my daddy.”
“Well, thank you for that.” Russ grabbed one of her hands and pulled her to a sitting position, heaving an inward sigh of relief when her hair was off the ground. “Now, are you going to show me how to create a castle or just keep being a little giggle box?”
“She’ll do both, won’t you, sweetie?” Autumn winked and smiled.
Dalynn’s sandy pigtails bounced up and down. “Yep. I can giggle and make a castle. Here, Daddy, watch me. This is how you do it.”
Within moments, the three of them were making an even bigger and better sand structure.
Autumn and Dalynn kept up an endless stream of conversation, and little by little Russ found himself joining in the chatter.
“So, Autumn, how do you know how to build a sandcastle? You’re from Bakersfield. Dry as dust over there. Not much opportunity for this kind of activity.”
Autumn lifted one auburn eyebrow, grinned, and shook her head.
Russ gawked.
With the sun turning her hair into a bright flame around her head, a streak of drying sand on one slightly sun- and wind-burned cheek, her lips curved into a wide, open smile without the slightest hint of sarcasm or temper, and those big, brown eyes alight with simple pleasure—Autumn left him breathless.
Mercy, Lord, this woman is gorgeous!
“Russ.” Autumn sounded every inch the proper school marm. “Bakersfield is not a far and distant desert planet. We Bako people are pretty smart cookies. We figured out a long time ago that a two-hour trip—give or take a few minutes, or maybe a half hour in some cases—can put us on a beach somewhere. Have you not noticed the number of tourists keeping Cam
bria streets and shops so hot?”
Russ conceded with a grin and a nod.
“Well, sir, may I suggest that at least half of those visitors are from Bakersfield and surrounding towns? I’ve spent a lot of time at the coast, and this spectacular castle is definitely not my—” She broke off, a shadow clouding her gaze, but then recovered. “This is not my first. Although Dalynn tells me it is her first. That surprised me.”
“Yeah, well…” Russ cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I’m guilty of all work and no play. I’m trying to improve in that regard, but it’s a slow process. I know I need to spend more time having fun with her.”
“This is fun!” Dalynn piped in.
“It sure is, honey. We’ll have to build more of these…” He narrowed his gaze, studying their work in progress. “…architectural wonders.”
“Huh?” Wide blue eyes blinked in confusion.
Autumn tugged on a blonde pigtail. “Daddy meant ‘fantastic sand houses.’” She laughed, and then whispered, “I think.”
“That’s exactly what I meant.” Russ brushed his hands together. “Let’s call this one finished. What do you say, ladies? Anybody besides me getting a little hungry?”
“Me! I’m really, really, really hungry.” Dalynn bounced up and dashed toward the Lodge, her sand creation forgotten.
“Whoa, whoa, wait up.” Autumn caught up and knelt beside the child. “Let’s get some of the seaside off of you first.” She brushed at Dalynn’s top and pants, and then released her ponytails one at a time so she could shake some of the sand loose. “We’ll work on it a little more when we get to the Lodge.” She looked at Russ. “If you’d like, I can take her inside and let her shower in my place. I’ll get the sand out of her hair and off her body, and we can shake most of it out of her clothes. It’ll help some, and you guys can enjoy your lunch without worrying about the sand chafing her skin.”
“That would be great.” Russ tried not to sound as relieved as he felt. Had Autumn somehow intuited his discomfort with his daughter’s state of dishevelment? Dalynn’s happy smile was worth the effort on his part to not appear horrified, but he’d be mighty glad to see her free of all that gritty soil. “But you’re not getting off that easy. We want you to have lunch with us, don’t we, Dalynn?”
“Yes!” She threw herself at Autumn and wrapped both arms around her legs. “You have to come too. I know you’re hungry, ’cause you already said so. ’Member?”
Autumn threw her head back and laughed whole-heartedly and with a refreshing lack of self-consciousness or coquetry. The sight and sound sent a thrill of something unfamiliar and entirely wonderful up Russ’s spine, and pulled at his heart with powerful force.
“Guilty as charged.” Autumn caught her lip between her teeth for a second, and then grinned. “You’re sure you don’t mind if I tag along, Russ?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” God help him. He’d spoken too true, and that kind of thinking would never work. For starters, Autumn’s spontaneous, undisciplined personality alone would drive him over the edge. He tried not to grimace at the memory of her hunkered down on the gritty beach sand without a quilt—and she’d allowed Dalynn the same behavior.
No, it would never work. Too much time with the redhead from Bakersfield would make him crazy. Besides, he had a gut feeling Autumn didn’t know the Lord. That alone was enough to put the brakes on any thoughts of romance. Light and dark, and all that. A relationship between them simply couldn’t happen.
But he could enjoy her company for lunch, at least.
~*~
“Thank you, Russ. I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed a burger and fries quite so much.” Autumn glanced over her shoulder and her lips twitched upward.
Dalynn snored softly, curled up on the narrow back seat of Russ’s pickup, her head resting on the shoulder strap of her seat belt. She hadn’t lasted two minutes after they left Boardwalk Burgers, where she’d insisted on eating. Russ had offered a couple of alternate suggestions but ultimately shrugged and gave in.
Now he gave Autumn a wry shake of his head and an apology. “I’m sorry, Autumn. I hope you weren’t expecting a dine-in experience. When Dalynn gets to choose, we always go to Boardwalk Burgers.”
Autumn smiled. “Don’t apologize. I loved it. I wouldn’t have known that place was there if you hadn’t taken me. Now I’ll have to drag Ceci over. The menu titles alone were worth the trip.” She chuckled. “Sunburned frenchies. Whale belly burritos. High tide hamburgers. So cute! And I gotta say, my sunburned frenchies and high tide burger with moon sauce—aka cheese—far surpassed any previous fast food experience.” She paused long enough to haul in a deep breath. “Of course, getting Ceci over there might be easier said than done. My friend has much higher culinary expectations than I do, and fast food isn’t her thing. Not conducive to a perfect figure, you know.”
Russ grinned, but his expression seemed a little glazed over. Autumn had gotten the distinct feeling he wasn’t accustomed to the constant back-and-forth of conversation they’d enjoyed during lunch. She never lacked for something to say, and Russ had responded in kind, but his initial responses were a little stiff and uncertain. He’d warmed up over the course of their meal, though, and turned out to be a fun conversationalist.
Did he and his wife never talk?
She stifled a gasp and gave herself a mental chiding. Russ’s behavior with his invisible wife were none of her concern. Still, she couldn’t help wondering why the woman never put in an appearance. Was she ill? Agoraphobic, perhaps? Did she have a demanding, fourteen-hour-a-day job that kept her mostly absent from her family?
That would be sad. Dalynn needed a mommy.
Enough. Still none of your business. Stop this, now.
But she couldn’t help thinking about how patient Russ was with his little girl. How kind. He seemed overly concerned about keeping her neat and clean, but the gentle way in which he wiped a dollop of ketchup off her chin…the way his eyes shone when he listened to the kid ramble on about her morning with Autumn…the loving tone of his voice when he talked to her—those things were a joy to watch. Whoever his wife was, she was missing out on lots of good things, wherever and for whatever reasons she’d hidden herself away.
“Autumn?” Russ gave her a puzzled grin. “You OK? You went silent all of a sudden.”
“I did? Well, I’m sure your ears needed the break. I talk too much…I know that, but I just can’t help it. Everywhere I look, I see things that need to be discussed.”
Russ laughed. Autumn loved the sound of it, especially given the fact that he didn’t do it often. He was a quiet man, and didn’t possess an especially humorous personality—or if he did, he hadn’t shown her that side of himself. Maybe that was a good thing, given the unacceptable tingle in her soul where he was concerned.
She needed to stay away from Dalynn’s daddy—even if that meant also avoiding contact with the little girl she’d so quickly come to love. He was all kinds of attractive, despite the rock man side of his personality. He was easy to be around when his eyes weren’t flashing flint and steel. Autumn enjoyed his company…too much.
Russ Amundsen had a wife. No need for discussion or consideration. Autumn might not be a goody-two-shoes Bible thumper, but she had her own morals and values. Married men were off limits. All the way. She’d seen far too many destroyed marriages and broken lives, too many children bearing the ultimate burden of their parents’ infidelities.
She blanched at a vivid memory of her mother walking out the front door, a suitcase in each hand. Her father, standing at the end of the hallway, watching her go—his face white, his jaw set. Herself as a five-year-old, peeking through the door from the dining room, where she’d taken cover under the table.
That’s what “love” did to people. Broke them. Left halves of one-time couples crushed and alone, wondering how they’d go on without the one who’d fallen out of that blissful state. Left children clinging to memories of rare days on the beach with mothers
who didn’t stay around for the long haul.
Nope, she had no intention of going there. Not with anyone, and certainly not with a man who had a wife, even if that wife was the invisible woman.
7
“Autumn?” Russ’s fingers touched hers, sending a tingle of electricity up her arm. “Are you OK?”
She jerked her hand free, disturbed by her reaction to his touch. “I think I’m getting a headache.”
“Oh, no. Well, we’re almost to the lodge.”
She said nothing more. Russ also remained silent, although he shot several concerned glances in her direction. Autumn turned her face toward the door, leaned her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes, wishing she could will the wheels into turning faster, getting her back to her lodge apartment and away from this man. He was dangerously close to claiming a heart she’d never intended to give away. That couldn’t happen. Autumn would never be the cause of a family unit being broken. Not even for a man like Russ Amundsen—not that he’d given any indication of wanting a relationship. He’d done nothing wrong…all the fireworks were in her own mind.
He parked in the driveway and rushed around the hood to open her door. “Do you need help getting upstairs?”
“No, thank you.” She managed a smile. Russ didn’t deserve rudeness. The unruly state of her emotions was her fault, not his. “I’ll be fine. Really. Thank you for lunch.”
“You’re welcome. I, uh…had a lot of fun today, Autumn. Dalynn did too. Thank you for spending time with us.”
She swallowed a little tickle in her throat. “I enjoyed it. Dalynn’s a sweetheart.” A step or two away gave her strength. She raised a hand and raked up another smile, even though her lips felt shaky. “See you later.” He nodded. Autumn turned and made a mad dash for the corner, relieved when she was out of his sight. His gaze was too penetrating. Did he know exactly what was going on in her head?
