She walked over to the bag swing and gave it a tentative push. Earl hadn’t hung it that far from the ground, so it wasn’t that perilous. Why not? Did she even remember how to climb aboard? She held on to the rope with both hands, straddled the bag, hopped up and wrapped her legs around it.
It was beautifully balanced. Too well balanced, actually. It seemed to have a mind of its own. She remembered everything about swinging on a bag swing except how to stop it and get off. She wrapped her legs tighter and clung to the rope above her head with both hands. Everyone who’d enjoyed swinging this afternoon had a partner to start the swing and stop it so the person swinging could slide off and stand up safely.
Without a partner controlling the action, however, it continued to swing. If anything, it moved faster with the motion of her body.
She was supposed to shove back at the moment it started on its downward swing and land on her feet. She’d done it a million times when she was twelve. She just didn’t seem able to pick the right moment.
But then...there didn’t seem to be one. She was going to wind up on her rump in the grass and add another bruise to the ones she’d already collected.
Here she’d gotten herself in another fine mess. Why did she never learn? At least nobody else was around to watch.
She squeaked when she felt strong arms encircle her waist and lift her free. She let go of the rope and leaned back against Seth. She knew it was Seth. He smelled like Seth and breathed like Seth and felt like Seth. Safe and warm and...maybe not safe.
“Need a little help dismounting?” he whispered.
“Where were you hiding?” She didn’t move, but simply relished the feel of him against her back. “I thought you’d gone home.”
“I was in your house getting some iced tea.”
She began to tell him she didn’t need his help. She would eventually have figured out how to get off without falling. Well...probably not. Besides, this was much more pleasant. “Thanks,” she murmured.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve called this morning,” he said, his arms still wrapped around her. He set her down and turned her to face him. He ran a finger down her cheek, looked at it in the dying light and shook his head. There was a distinct smear of dirt on the tip from in front of her ear, where she hadn’t quite scrubbed herself clean.
“I...”
He took her face in his hands and very gently kissed her.
A jerk he might be—and that was debatable at this point—but a good kisser he definitely was. No other man she’d kissed elevated her pulse and her body temperature in an instant the way he did.
“I swear, woman,” he said, “you need a bodyguard.”
“You’re hired,” she whispered.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“DO WE HAVE to leave the babies outside all night their first time in their kennel?” Emma asked Seth. She was back in her usual place on the pantry floor with all three babies crawling over her lap. Seth sat backward on one of the chairs he’d brought in from the dining table.
“I promise you they won’t escape,” he answered. “They have their little wading pool for water...”
“They may drown if they fall in and can’t get out.”
“We’ll watch them until we’re sure they can.”
“And they’re used to having their meals delivered to them.”
“Earl picked up a jar of night crawlers at the marina yesterday. The skunks should enjoy catching them and eating them. It’s what they have to do in the wild. You won’t be there to offer them dog food on a silver spoon.”
“I know, and it’s killing me. If this is what it’s like to raise children, I’m not having any.”
“Human babies are a lot more trouble and take longer to raise,” Seth said. “You get used to them.”
“You have an answer for everything.”
“Babies are wildlife. I’m supposed to know about stuff like that.”
She smacked his knee. “Like you know so much. At least I helped raise my half siblings.” She caught her breath. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...”
“Emma, you can’t tiptoe around Sarah’s death. It happened. I was thirteen. I’ve had years to get used to not having her around.”
“Do you ever forget her?”
“Do you ever forget your mother?” He stood. “Come on. Time to bite the bullet and see what happens.”
He took the three babies from her and held them against his chest in the palm of one big hand. She scrambled to her feet and took Rose and Peony back. Sycamore had always seemed to prefer Seth—guys would be guys, even among skunks.
In the kennel, Emma set her two down on the rotten log Seth had found in the woods to give them something to explore for bugs. He put Sycamore down beside them.
Emma assumed they’d be hesitant in their new habitat. Rose, however, stuck her nose in the log, scrabbled with her claws and came up almost instantly with one end of a night crawler dangling from her jaws. She grabbed it between her front paws and began to stuff it in her mouth two-handed.
Peony made a swipe for the wriggly end, but in usual Peony fashion missed completely and fell off the log.
Sycamore turned his back, jumped off the log and went exploring.
It broke Emma’s heart to watch Peony claw at Rose’s log in hopes of finding at least a grub or a beetle, but when she reached for the night crawler jar to give Peony a little help, Seth shook his head at her.
“She’ll catch on,” he said. “She always does. Just takes her longer.”
“But...”
“Don’t help.”
She subsided on the lawn that that made up the floor of the kennel. Rose climbed into her lap and, replete with night crawler, went to sleep.
Sycamore hove into view munching on a large caterpillar. Peony went for it and accidentally stepped on a beetle. She ate it in one gulp.
“Yes! I knew she could do it!” Emma said.
“Told you. Here, put her down and let’s watch from outside.”
The two of them leaned against the outside of the wire and watched the three grow less hesitant, more adventurous, until they’d all tried the kiddie pool that was filled with only a couple of inches of water. Even Peony managed to scramble out, march over to the log and climb up with four wet paws.
“Okay, we’re going to leave them out here tonight,” Seth said as he stood.
“Who died and made you general?”
“I’m the one with the badge. Come on. We can sit on the front porch and check them periodically.”
“Then what?” Uh-oh. Wrong question. At least if Seth spent the night, he could keep checking on the babies. Unless he was otherwise occupied, which, if he stayed, he almost certainly would be.
Was she ready for that? They had chemistry together, but they barely knew each other, and they always seemed to butt heads. He seemed to consider himself her rescuer, because she kept needing to be rescued. Not the image she wanted to portray. Grown women who had responsible jobs—or used to have them, anyway—should be rescuers, not need to be rescued.
It would be simple to throw caution to the winds and jump into bed with Seth. He wouldn’t hesitate, but then very few men would, given the invitation.
Couldn’t do it. Not this soon after the train wreck with Trip.
Too many of her friends, both married and single, seemed to consider sex of no more importance than a kind of adult version of spin the bottle. Emma had never found sex anything to be casual about. She was too socially uptight to have participated in the hookup stage most of her friends went through. Trip was one of her few partners, and only after they became exclusive. Well, she’d thought they were exclusive. Trip obviously hadn’t.
Sex with Trip had been pleasant, but not mind-blowing. What on earth had convinced her that everything would miraculously be paradise on their wedding night
? Didn’t most married couples have to learn over time the best ways to please each other? Another instance in which Emma had tried to organize the situational dynamic the way it ought to be and missed by a country mile. Or in this case a city mile.
Now she knew why. Her instincts had sensed that something in the relationship was off, even if her rational mind had not.
Unfortunately, the opposite was true with Seth. Every time he touched her—shoot, every time he looked at her—her body reacted in completely inappropriate ways. Nothing rational about how she felt.
Tonight should definitely not be the night. For one thing, she was so tired and so bruised that she was likely to fall sound asleep when she should be most awake. Talk about an ego downer for any male. If—and it was still if—she and Seth wound up in bed together, she wanted everything to be perfect.
Uh-oh! Lately the more perfect she tried to make things, the more chaotic they became. If her recent track record held, they’d end up making love on top of a beaver dam seeded with five sticks of TNT with the fuses lit.
If it was going to happen, it would. She made a vow that she wouldn’t try to orchestrate the perfect tryst. She’d aim for solid friendship first, then see what developed.
She sank onto the porch swing beside him, pulled her feet under her and snuggled into Seth’s shoulder. “Thank you for all you’ve done,” she said.
He leaned his cheek against the top of her head. “Like nearly getting you incinerated?”
“My fault. I am so used to being responsible for everything’s going smoothly, that when it doesn’t, I jump in. I’m a natural fixer, except sometimes I make things worse. I should’ve told you I have a very, very limited repertoire in the cooking department.”
“The spaghetti the other night was great.”
“That’s one. I also make a mean chef salad and halfway decent chili, but that’s about my limit, except for breakfast stuff.” She yawned hugely. “Sorry. It’s been a very long day.”
“Why don’t you go to bed?” he asked. “I’ll check on the skunks. I promise they’ll survive the night without you.”
She yawned again. “I need to unload the dishwasher, reload it and run a bunch of napkins through the washing machine.”
“That can all wait until tomorrow. What if I pick you up about eleven? We can drive to the country store in Somerville for their Sunday brunch. It’s quite a spread.”
“You don’t have to...”
“How about if I want to? To make up for letting you down today.” He held up his hand. “Don’t argue. Go brush your teeth and go to bed.”
As pleasant as it was to cuddle against his warm body, bed without company sounded like a truly great idea. She half stumbled into the house. She’d never felt sufficiently comfortable in any male-female situation to let down her guard so totally, but somehow she trusted Seth, as she’d never trusted Trip.
“I’ll lock the doors when I leave,” he said to her retreating back.
She waved good-night and disappeared into her bedroom. In the last twenty minutes, every bit of energy in her body seemed to have drained out her toenails. Some kind of psychological avoidance of dealing with Seth as a man? Or her feelings for him?
If so, it had apparently worked. She brushed her teeth but didn’t bother to take off her makeup. She sank onto the coverlet, pulled the quilt over herself without even taking off her clothes. Her last conscious thought was Am I crazy or what?
* * *
SHE WOKE AT two in the morning when her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since her hamburger at lunch. She considered hunting up a couple of cold hot dogs from the leftovers in the refrigerator and going outside to check on the babies. Give them a little snack. They loved hot dogs. And she could always have some of Janeen’s potato salad...
Then she remembered the giant turtle that had been roaming the yard. Earl and his family had taken that one, but the one she’d spotted back by the pond was three times larger. Better to trust that Seth had checked on the babies. She didn’t think turtles ate baby skunks, but in any case, Seth swore the kennel was impregnable from any creature that might.
She got out of bed and, barefoot, tiptoed to her bedroom door. The floor was cold.
She saw that the lamp was still lit in the living room.
She hadn’t left a blanket out, had she? Then she saw one large, naked foot sticking out at the end of the couch. Seth hadn’t gone home. He’d sacked out on her couch.
She retreated silently and climbed back into her own bed.
She’d put up with her hunger pangs to avoid waking him. He’d stayed over to check on the babies during the night, rather than going back and forth from his house to hers. What a sweet guy he was.
At least when it came to animals. Human beings, not so much.
Good thing was, he didn’t snore.
When she stuck her head in the living room in the morning, the blanket was neatly folded over the back of the couch. She found a note on the kitchen island. “Pick you up at 10:45 to beat the crowd. Casual.”
She’d nearly forgotten what it felt like to put on a dress. She planned to keep it that way for as long as possible. She cut slices of apple and rounds of hot dog for the skunks’ breakfasts, and found all three waiting beside the kennel door with their front paws on the wire. “Breakfast is late, so sue me,” she said. They were basically omnivores, and had fallen in love with apples the first time she’d offered them. They had progressed as far as the hot dogs from their dog food gruel faster than she’d dared hope. She tossed the fruit around the enclosure to make them hunt, but she didn’t see a single insect or worm, from night crawler to lightning bug. If nothing else, they were thorough.
They were so close to being ready to go home to the woods. The only step left in their development was their ability to spray real scent. Not a step Emma was looking forward to. At this point they poofed when they were annoyed, but with no more than the faintest of odors. Still, they couldn’t be released until they could protect themselves from predators like coyotes and bobcats. Their spray was their only defense.
She’d have to ask Barbara how to make that transition as painless as possible for the human beings. She’d always heard that the way to get the scent off was to scrub with tomato juice, but there must be something newer and more effective than gallons of tomato juice. There must be a test that didn’t actually involve annoying three skunks enough to spray.
From outside their enclosure she watched them munch and stomp. The human momma had to cut her ties—not to mention her heartstrings.
She left them to clean up the few remaining bits of fruit and hot dog. She could scrub and depoop the kennel after lunch.
When she heard Seth’s SUV, she’d already finished straightening the house and putting away everything she’d used for the party. She had taken Seth’s advice about dressing casually, but she wore her best designer jeans and an elegant spring sweater in a soft peach that complemented her hair and gave her skin a glow. Since the morning was surprisingly chilly for May, she tossed a light jacket over her shoulders. The peach sweater reflected against her skin enough to impart a healthy tone it didn’t deserve after the last few days.
* * *
“YOU CAN’T HAVE been comfortable sleeping on the couch last night,” Emma said as she buckled her seat belt.
“Not bad, although I’m taller than the couch is long. A couple of places got prodded by loose springs, but it was more comfortable than traipsing across the road at two in the morning to check on the skunks.”
Would’ve been a boost for his ego if she’d asked him to join her, he thought. She’d managed to shoehorn a king-size bed into that little bedroom.
But if she’d invited her to join him just to sleep, he would not have been trustworthy. He also wouldn’t have gotten any sleep.
She glowed as though she hadn’t missed a moment’s
rest. Her sweater wasn’t tight, but it did fit what Earl would call a rack. With the exception of his mother, Seth didn’t know any other woman—no matter her age—who wore elegance as casually as Emma did.
She was so far out of his league they weren’t even in the same country.
She chattered on about the skunks and the party, while he wondered if she was still talking to Trip or her former boss. She hadn’t mentioned setting up job interviews. The part-time gig with Barbara was only a stopgap. She obviously wasn’t concentrating on finding a career-track job in the Williamston area. She still planned to leave, and soon.
“Here we are,” he said as he pulled the SUV into the parking lot in front of the restaurant. “Prepare for your cultural experience of the day.”
“What a wonderful building,” Emma said as she climbed out onto the gravel parking lot. There were already half a dozen pickup trucks and SUVs, so they weren’t too early.
“I’m starving,” Emma said. “No dinner last night and no breakfast this morning.”
“These folks will fill you up.”
“This place is obviously old. What’s its history? How did it become a restaurant?”
“It was built as a general store and to supply the railroad back in 1850 or so. Before the Civil War. After the railroad stopped running passenger trains along this line, the store closed about 1950 and stayed closed until ten years ago. It’s a wonder it didn’t fall down, but they built to last in those days. Then the McCabes bought the place and restored it. Serves breakfast and lunch all week and brunch on Sundays. It’s too far from Williamston for Earl and me to drive over here every day. Besides, we’d wind up as fat as Tweedledum and Tweedledee if we did.”
He held the front door for Emma and followed her through.
“Oh, this is wonderful!” Emma exclaimed. “All the trains!” A dozen feet up the brick wall, a balcony ran around the perimeter. On the balustrade an antique model train set chugged around and around.
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