by Jade Taylor
An hour later, the insurance agent showed up. He looked over the damage, then sat in the kitchen with Cat for twenty minutes. Joey and Jackson continued to clean up the mess. They’d removed all the debris and were working on cutting the carpet into small enough pieces to haul out. Jackson studied the floor. Beneath the worn carpet lay a well-preserved hardwood surface. With a little work, some stain and wax, it would be much better looking than the old carpet. Maybe even better than new carpet. How much, he wondered, did Cat need for the mortgage, and would she accept a loan from him? Not stubborn, independent Catherine Darnell. Well, he could fix this part of her problem.
After the insurance agent left, Cat stepped into the living room, a distracted frown and weary eyes seeking him out. She looked as if a two-ton boulder weighed down her shoulders.
Transfixed by her shadowed eyes, he found it hard to speak. When he did, his voice had the deep suggestion of a growl. “Isn’t he going to do right by you, Cat?”
“Yes. He will. As much as he can.” Cat scanned the living room assessing the full extent of the damage. She sighed. “He was very generous, Jackson. Really. They’ll pay for the fire damage to the walls and ceiling. A percentage of the cost of a sofa and carpet. Nothing for my beading materials.”
Jackson couldn’t remember ever seeing her eyes so dark with disappointment. His heart felt as if a hand were squeezing it, but he had to say something. Anything. “I’ll help, Cat.”
“Paul said he’d get a carpenter out here to estimate the damage, but that I could go ahead and get materials from the lumberyard. We can have them send the bill directly to him. He said if I wanted to take care of it myself, they’d pay the full estimate of whatever the carpenter said it would cost. It won’t be enough for the mortgage payment after the supplies are deducted, but the bank will be happy to get it, even if it isn’t the full payment.” She tried to smile.
“You’re thinking about the downside. Remember, I’m going to do the work. We’ll see how cheap we can get by. You might be surprised at how much is left over.”
“Joey is safe. So am I, thanks to you. That’s all that really matters. I’ll be able to sleep tonight.”
I won’t, he thought. “Good,” he said.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BUDDY SHOWED UP at the farm a bare two hours after Jackson left. Blue rushed out to greet him with a volley of excited barks. Will nudged the dog behind him and welcomed his helper. “There’s a ton of things that need taking care of, Buddy, and I have a feeling Jackson’s going to be tied up helping Catherine for a while. Can you work for me the next couple of weeks?”
“The Johnsons asked me to work for them all summer. A man needs steady work, Will. I’d do it, if I could. You know that.” The short man shifted his weight and avoided looking into Will’s eyes. “I’ll help out today, though.”
Will took a deep breath. “How about if I guarantee you a job ’till Christmas, and maybe afterwards, if things work out the way they should.”
Buddy shrugged and spat a brown stream of tobacco juice off to the left. Blue, who had been edging closer, sniffed at the aromatic spot and hurriedly backed off.
“Don’t seem to me like you need a full-time helper with Jackson here. Pity the boy don’t like farming. He’s a damn hard worker.”
“I told you I’d guarantee a paycheck until Christmas. That oughta be all you need to know. Not being sharp with you, you understand. Just that I know what I want and how much help I’ll need getting it.”
The little man shrugged. “Don’t matter none to me. I guess the Johnsons can get Albert Peterka to help them, living next door the way he does. As long as you pay me, I can stand around and watch beets grow as good as anybody else.”
“You don’t need to worry about running out of work. I’ll see to that. First thing I need you to do is run into town and pick up those tractor parts. Jackson doesn’t have a brain in his head when he gets distracted. He’s completely forgotten about it.”
Buddy spat another brown glob of juice. “I reckon all kids is that way.”
“I suppose he had good cause this time.”
Later, Will grinned in deep satisfaction as Buddy drove his rusty pickup out of the yard and on to the gravel road. Maybe now he’d find out if that little girl of Cat’s also happens to be his granddaughter. Joey sure looked a lot like Helen. She had the same heart-shaped face and dimpled smile that Cassidy inherited.
Will’s throat tightened as he stood in the yard thinking about the good years with his wife. The too few years. Well, things were better now. He’d made up with Jackson, his strength was coming back and, without ever meaning to forget his wife, he enjoyed the time he spent with Bertie. Things were working out just fine.
WORKING SIDE BY SIDE with Jackson excited Cat. Despite his attraction for her, she hadn’t thought that would be a problem, but every time his arm brushed hers, a ripple of desire raced through her. Every time he smiled at her, the warm, inner glow of happiness became almost unbearable. When he joked with Joey and then winked at her, she felt the impact in the pit of her stomach.
Finally, she could stand the closeness no longer. “Let’s break for lunch, guys. I’ll fix something and we can rest a bit.”
“So how much rest will you get if you cook for us, then have to clean up the kitchen?”
Cat pushed away his remark with a wave of her hand. “Oh, I don’t mind.”
Jackson’s brow lifted a half inch. “I do,” he said, firmly. “I’ve got a much better idea. Let’s run into town and order some lumber, so that will be ready for me when we finish washing everything down. We can grab a bite to eat there. Okay with you?”
Cat glanced at Joey. She’d been a stalwart helper to Jackson, obediently carrying out his every command. “You’re right. We’re all tired, and we should be. We’ve been up since dawn. Joey and I will take a quick shower and change clothes. You can wash up in the kitchen, if you don’t mind.”
His grin stretched wide. “Right on, but first, I’ll take some measurements to get an idea of what we’ll need from the lumberyard. You two go on and clean up.”
Cat’s heart lifted. “Come on, Joey. Let’s play hooky.”
“Hooky? What’s that?”
Jackson leaned down and patted her cheek. “That’s when you skip out on work, kiddo. You’ll learn to like it. I’m trying to teach your mom, too.”
A tug of misgivings pulled at Cat’s heart. Would Jackson always want to play? Would he never settle down? Determinedly, she put the thought out of her mind. It wasn’t playing hooky when you worked your behind off for hours, then decided to take a break. She motioned for Joey to follow her.
For once, Joey didn’t linger in the shower. Neither did Cat. Twenty minutes later, they came into the living room. Jackson sat in the sheet-covered easy chair, his head back and his eyes closed. A soft buzz issued from slightly parted lips.
Joey giggled. “He’s asleep, Mom, and he’s snoring!” Her high, clear voice rose on the last word.
Cat couldn’t take her eyes off Jackson’s lean face. In quiet repose, his rust-red brows accented the smooth line of his forehead. His cheekbones were high, his face unlined, his nose strong and beneath it, sharply sculptured lips. Her hand rose and it took her only a second to realize why. She wanted to touch his lips, to trace their outline, to feel her lips on his. An empty, disappointed ache filled her heart.
“Can I wake him, Mom? Can I?”
Glad to have the moment interrupted, Cat nodded.
Joey tiptoed over to the chair, her hands holding in the giggles that threatened to erupt. She tiptoed to the side of the chair, close to Jackson’s face. Then, her small hand reached out to the eye closest to her. Carefully, she pulled the lid up, until the eyeball inside stared back at her. “Wake up, Jackson,” she ordered sternly.
A long arm snaked out quickly and grabbed her. Jackson opened both eyes and grinned at his tormentor. “Gotcha! I’ll teach you to wake up a man who’s getting a little hard-earned rest.”
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He proceeded to tickle Joey, who giggled and wiggled until Cat ordered him to stop. “If you two don’t quit horsing around, we’ll be having dinner in town, not lunch.”
“You do have a point, Cat. Joey, shall we please your mother by acting like grown-ups for a change?”
Joey shook her head. “I’m just a kid.”
“Me, too, but tell you what, we’re both in for a spanking if we don’t do what Mommy says.”
Joey shook her head. “Mommy never spanks me. Never.”
“No? Well, you’re lucky, but she might spank me.” He turned his gaze toward Cat. “Would you spank me, Wild Cat? No? Even if I asked you to?” Jackson affected an evil leer.
His wicked grin turned her legs to water.
AT THE LUMBERYARD, the aromatic scent of uncured pine and sawdust filled the air. Jackson rubbed his hands across lumber with the air of a connoisseur. He selected smooth, straight boards to repair the outside wall, several sheets of plywood for the inside, and paneling to cover the plywood. Picking up a few pieces of tongue-and-groove hardwood flooring, he explained to Cat his plans for the floor. She nodded and remarked only that it seemed like quite a bit of work to her.
Jackson scooped Joey up and perched her on his broad shoulder. “Work? Not a bit. I’m going to supervise and Joey will handle the hard stuff.”
Joey’s excited laughter ran through Cat like a knife. The two of them took to each other as if they belonged together. She’d kept them apart. What would Jackson say if he learned the truth? What would Joey say? Cat made an effort to smile at their horseplay. Until she decided how to handle this, she couldn’t tell them. She’d have to pray that neither of the two people she loved discovered her lies. An empty, fearful ache wrapped around her heart.
Later, when they entered the restaurant, Joey immediately claimed a booth near the windows looking out at the traffic on Main Street and announced loudly, “I want to sit beside Jackson, Mom. Okay? Can I? Can I sit with you, Jackson?”
Dubious, Cat asked, “What do you think, Jackson? Joey’s table manners are still in the training stage. Eating that close to her can be dangerous.”
“I’m a Marine, remember? We love danger. Come on, Short Stuff.” Jackson gestured to Joey to scoot across the bench seat to the window.
Cat conceded what had already been decided. “Joey, remember your manners. And do try not to spill anything on Jackson.”
“Mom!” Joey protested. “I’m not a little kid, you know.”
“Right,” Cat commented dryly.
Joey ordered her favorite meal, hamburger with french fries and double ketchup. Jackson and Cat opted for the luncheon special, broiled walleye pike, fried potatoes and a house salad. While they waited for their food, Cat did her best not to stare at Jackson. Every day they spent in each other’s company made him more irresistible and there existed an insidious compulsion to look at Jackson, then at Joey and compare the two. No matter how much she tried not to, when the three of them were together, Cat had to hold herself in check to avoid giving away her secret. Once again, she reminded herself that this togetherness had to stop.
Jackson noticed her preoccupied state. “You’re not still worried about the money?” He propped one long arm on the bench seat behind Joey and leaned back to study her with deceptively lazy, blue eyes.
Cat jumped on the subject, anxious to divert her own mind. “I haven’t added the pennies yet, but if things work out with the materials the way you think, and the money comes through the way Paul promised, then I might have a little left over for the bank. Then if I get a good price for RugRat, I can catch up on the mortgage payments. That’s a lot of ‘mights’ and ‘maybes’ mixed together with an ‘if’ or two, but you know what I mean.” Nervously, she smiled at him.
Jackson wasn’t fooled. He rested an elbow on the table, put his hand under his chin and turned a steady curious stare on her. “Then why the serious look? We’re supposed to be relaxing.”
As always, his gaze unsettled her. “I was thinking…about something.”
“Care to share?” He sat back in the booth, as if he was prepared to wait all day for her answer.
Cat searched for a way to refuse, or a white lie to explain it away, then found a diversion. “Joey, quit fiddling with the salt shaker.”
“I wasn’t, Mom,” Joey denied. “I was just looking at it.”
“Cat?” Jackson prompted, apparently unwilling to let her escape so easily.
She looked out the window at the meager traffic, then back at Jackson. What would he say if she admitted the truth of her thoughts? One glance at his lean face, the cerulean eyes that could turn winter cold in an instant, and the fearsomely strong shoulders convinced her of the folly of such a thought. “It’s nothing.”
Jackson leaned closer to her. “You know what you remind me of, when you swing that long hair in front of your face?”
Deliberately, Cat pushed her hair back. “No,” she said. “What?”
“High school. I could always tell when you were upset about something. You’d let your hair swing forward and conceal as much of your face as you could.”
“I didn’t know anyone noticed.”
Jackson sat back again, his face thoughtful. “I did. I used to watch you a lot. You were never the daredevil you pretended to be.”
Cat shook her head and grinned ruefully. “You watched me? Nah. I think not. You were all tied up in what Rebeka was doing.”
Jackson went still. “Not so much that I didn’t notice you.”
A cynical laugh bubbled in her throat. “As Joey would say, ‘yeah, right!’ You never noticed any other girl while Rebeka was around, Jackson.”
He remained serious. “That’s what you think. It isn’t what you know.”
Cat’s heart thudded with the intensity of his gaze on her. “If you’re trying to say you had a moment’s thought for me before Rebeka ran out on you, well forget it. I’m not buying.”
He shrugged. “I noticed you as a friend, the same way you saw me. Was there more? Maybe not. Not before Rebeka and I parted ways, but after, well, I don’t think a day’s passed since the senior prom that I haven’t thought of you.”
“Oh, come on! I’m not wearing my wading boots, you know.”
Jackson conceded a smile, but remained adamant. “True, though.”
“Jackson, this isn’t going anywhere. Why bring it up?”
Once again his shoulders tightened in a faint shrug. “Lighten up a little. I’m just talking about the past, Cat. I know there’s no future that’s going to see us together. You’re too stuck on your farm and the Goose River will dry up before I make Engerville my home.”
Cat looked at Joey, then gave Jackson a warning look. “I don’t think all that is something we should discuss with Joey around. She’s only eight.” The last part slipped out. Cat could have bitten her tongue, but it was too late.
“Eight?” Jackson’s brows shot up. “I figured six or seven.”
Triggered by the sound of her name, Joey, who’d been gaping at the other customers, now swung her attention back to Jackson and Cat. “I’m a big kid now, Jackson. I’m in third grade already.”
The hard look of suspicion vanished from Jackson’s face to be replaced by a bland expression that would fool only a child. “Is that right, Short Stuff? Are you kidding me?”
“No, I really am. Aren’t I, Mom?” She looked at her mother for verification.
Cat twisted uneasily, then smiled gratefully as the waitress brought their food to the table. She pretended not to see the question in Jackson’s eyes. “Oh, good. I’m starved. Your hamburger looks delicious, Joey.”
THE REST OF THEIR LUNCH passed in a blur for Jackson. The questions racing through his mind had him in a state very close to shock. He kept wondering if what he thought could possibly be true, or if he were so far off the mark that Cat would never forgive him if he asked her. It seemed impossible. Could Joey be the result of that one night of lovemaking in the shadows of Needlepoi
nt Rock?
He managed to carry on a meaningless conversation through the rest of the meal and during the ride home. Jackson turned the truck into the yard and let it coast to the barn. “I’ll unload this stuff and stack it in an empty stall, Cat. Wouldn’t want it to get wet, not that it looks like it might rain or anything.” Keeping his voice neutral, he tried not to give away his thoughts.
“I’ll help you, Jackson,” Joey volunteered eagerly.
“No,” Cat ordered. “You come to the house with me.”
“Why, Cat?” Jackson challenged. “Is there some reason she shouldn’t stay and help me?” Could she explain her objection in some way that would remove the questions in his mind?
Cat retreated, her face as pale as Jackson thought his own might be. She muttered in a subdued voice, “I didn’t want her to bother you.”
No doubt existed in his mind that she hid something. “Joey’s no bother,” he said shortly.
Cat nodded and left the two of them standing beside the truck, her straight, stiff figure refusing him any answers. Jackson set his jaw in a hard line to keep from calling her back. He wanted to know, but fear stopped the actual question. He looked down at the child standing as near to him as she could reasonably get. His heart contracted. Her green eyes were so like her mother’s.
For a moment, Jackson couldn’t speak, then he found a rough growl to replace his lost voice. “Okay, Short Stuff, it’s you and me.” He ruffled her feathery dark hair and forced a casual smile. “Let’s get this lumber into the barn, but don’t you try to lift any of the heavy pieces. You can carry the nails and the wood glue.”
Joey’s evident delight warmed him.
“Okay, but I’m really strong. I could carry some of the sticks.”
“Boards, honey.”
“Boards,” she agreed.
“Yes, I know you could, but then what would I do? Do you want my fragile male psyche to be humiliated by letting a girl do my work? Don’t answer that. You probably don’t know what ‘fragile’ means.”
