"I had welder's flash."
"What?"
"The bloodshot eyes. I got those from welding. And your own brothers said you were tough. That's why I didn't do anything when you came into the shop with that flat tire and then, later, when that Stinson guy was threatening you."
"I wouldn't have minded some help then."
"Tough and independent, remember?"
"I'm not that tough. You make me sound like I should be spitting out nails, which I don't. Steve Stinson scares me and there you were spouting off about Schubert and poetry," I said, trying to sort through what I was hearing. "You've got some convoluted idea of what a woman wants," I said, hurt tinging my voice.
"Actually, from the sounds of things I have no idea at all what a woman wants. Which makes me exactly like most guys on this planet."
"Well, I should know because I live with four of them and work for one of them. It shouldn't surprise anyone why I want to leave."
By this time we were standing almost nose-to-nose, glaring at each other, angry words swirling around us like a noxious cloud.
How had we gone from tender kiss to Armageddon?
Fear. Worry. Uncertainty. But I wasn't admitting that to him.
James held my eyes for a moment and then he sighed. "You're still leaving?" He was quiet now, and he sounded surprised. Or hurt? I couldn't tell which and didn't want to speculate too much. Didn't want to superimpose my deep yearnings on this man and his motivations.
Did I still want to move away? I had heard nothing from Dan Crittenden or Les Steglund. They would call. I still had a plan. Something would come up. Eventually.
But James...
I shook my head to dispel the doubts, the questions. This shouldn't be happening now. Surely I wasn't such a ninny that a few kisses from someone that my brothers tried to set me up with, and had pushed on me at every opportunity, would make me change my entire plan for my life? Would push me outside of a place I had set up for myself? Something I had been in charge of.
What you feel is a result of more than a few kisses.
Okay, I was getting tired of this voice in my head. She had to go.
What do you mean? She is me! I'm just as much a part of this discussion as you are.
Was arguing with myself the first sign of ill mental health? Or was it paying attention to the voice?
"I don't know," I said, then caught myself. "I mean I think I am. No. I know I am."
"Which one is it?" he spoke softly, and he reached up and stroked my cheek with one finger.
I stopped, looking away from him, wishing I could be so sure.
There was no bet.
That had switched things for me.
"Have you heard anything from the place you applied?"
His question only underlined my uncertainty.
"No, but I only did my interview last Thursday." His question had only underlined my uncertainty. I had hoped to hear from them by now, it had been over a week now.
"Okay." He moved closer, as if sensing my weakening. "Can I make you a proposal?"
My eyes flew to his, and he held up one hand with a smile.
"Not that kind of proposal," he said. "Another one. How about you don't think further ahead than the next day? How about we try to figure out where things might go?"
I wasn't sure what to say. I didn't know if I wanted to switch gears so quickly. And yet I knew it wasn't quick at all. Somehow over the last couple weeks this man had worked his way into my life and had found a small corner of my heart that I thought I had closed off.
"So where do you think things might go?" I asked trying to stifle the faint glimmer of hope that his smile and the look in his eyes had ignited within me.
"I think that's what we should figure out."
He gently fingered a strand of hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear. His hand lingered on my cheek and then with the knuckle of his forefinger he tucked it under my chin and moved in for a kiss.
My lips met his, and my hand drifted to his shoulder, my other hand to his waist and then we were wrapped in each other's arms, our kiss deepening.
I don't know who pulled away first, him or me. But our eyes were locked on each other, and my heart was hammering in my chest.
"I think this might be considered part of the figuring it out," James said his voice holding a curious note.
I cupped his cheek in my hand, my thumb stroking the light stubble of his face.
"I should've shaved," he said. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay, I think is kinda sexy."
He lifted one eyebrow with a knowing grin. "You surprise me, Danielle."
"If there's one thing I've learned living with four guys, it is that it's important for me to keep you on your toes."
"It seems you're doing a pretty good job of that," James said. He bent over and brushed a gentle kiss across my lips. "So can we do something tomorrow? Maybe go see a movie? Or just out for coffee?"
The question hung between us ripe with promise. And hope. My heart started up again, and I felt a curious trembling deep in my soul. "Are you asking me out on a date?" Was that really a flirtatious tone that had entered my voice?
He chuckled. "I guess I am. Is that a problem?"
"Only if you can't get a babysitter."
"I think there's a few across the way," James said with a grin.
"If you can get any of my brothers to babysit, you have powers I would like to tap into."
This elicited another laugh. "It's all a matter of presentation. Besides, I think I have an in with your brothers."
I smiled in return, then took a step back. The longer I stayed here the more questions I would have to answer when I came back. And right now I just wanted to go up to my bedroom and hold some of these moments close.
"Then I'll see you tomorrow," I said. And before anything else could happen, I turned and walked out the door.
The stars were out as I walked across the yard. I stop for a moment and looked heavenward.
Is this a good idea?
I sent the question heavenward, wondering if God was trying to show me something new. Wondering if he was pushing me into another place in my life. I had prayed so long to find closure after Wyatt's death. I had prayed so long to find some kind of peace, and thought that moving away was the solution.
Could it be this easy? Could everything be sitting right here in front of my face?
I pushed the questions down and walked to the house.
All I knew for now was that I was going on a date with a very attractive man. And it wasn't happening in the city, it was happening right here in Holmes Crossing.
13
"So where are we going?" I asked as James opened the door of his truck for me. He held up one hand so I could climb up into the high cab.
"I'd like to make some things a surprise in your life." And that's all he told me as he closed the door.
This morning he had called and told me not to dress fancy. That we were just going to have fun. I tried to ask him what we were doing on a lovely Saturday afternoon, but he told me to go with the flow.
Part of me felt a little disappointed, but I was intrigued.
He got into the truck and started it up. And gave me a knowing grin. "This not knowing what we're gong to do is driving you crazy, isn't it?"
My only response was a shrug. Though he was partly right, I liked the idea of a surprise. "I have to say I'm impressed that you got both Neil and Carter to take care of Sherry on a Saturday."
He tapped his forefinger to his forehead, and grinned at me. "My extreme powers of persuasion. Plus they owe me."
"Please don't tell me this is part of settling another bet."
"Not everything between guys is a bet or a competition." He backed the truck up, then turned down the driveway heading toward the highway and town.
"That may be, but I have yet to see my brothers watch a hockey game, or a baseball game, or a football game or anything involving teams and odds and not have them make a
bet about it." I settled back in the truck seat, grinning at him.
This netted me a quick lift of his eyebrows and a grin. We drove for a while in silence, and I was content to look around thankful for this tiny pocket of peace.
I looked over at James again, thinking of the little girl we had left behind in my brother's care. "I know you might not want to talk about it, but have you heard anything from your sister Robin?"
James just looked ahead, his fingers tapping the steering wheel. His mouth grew a little hard, and for a moment I regretted asking the question.
"She called me last night. After you left." He stopped right there, and I sensed he didn't really want to talk about it. But I was concerned about Sherry, and I knew that taking care of her was causing problems for him. My brothers had hinted at this yesterday. I'd overheard Carter and chip talking about how James had had to cancel some of his plans because of his niece. Was that one of the reasons they were willing to take care of Sherry? James’s plans?
"So what did she say?" I asked.
He drummed the fingertips of one hand on the steering wheel, still looking straight ahead. He was quiet a moment then eased out a sigh. "She's not sure she can keep doing this, is all she told me."
"What does she expect you to do?"
"Cover for her." He blew out a sigh then glanced at me. "You're not the only one that has to deal with passive aggressive siblings."
"Then maybe you should do to her what you told me to do with my brothers. Have expectations, make her step up to her responsibilities."
James nodded acknowledging my comment. Then he turned his attention back to the road, and blew out another sigh. "A little hard to do when I'm not even sure where she is."
"Can I do anything? I have a few resources available."
He shook his head at that. "She's my sister. I've always taken care of her before. We've always solved our problems ourselves."
"But you don't have to."
This netted me another puzzled glance. "What are you saying?"
"You live in our yard now, your friends with my brothers. And...well...I'd like to help you too. You are not on your own."
His puzzled glance morphed into a gentle smile. "That's good to know. That's not something I'm used to."
"You told me you've been taking care of your sister since your parents died. How...how did they die?"
He said nothing right away and I wondered if I had pushed too hard too fast. But I was curious and I sensed that he was getting ready to tell me more about his life.
"They were in a car accident," he said finally. "Got t-boned by a drunk driver."
"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that," I said.
"It's been a few years." He shrugged. "My father and my mother were on their way to a rodeo. He was competing."
His words created a tiny kernel of apprehension deep in my stomach. "What did your father compete in?"
“Saddle bronc."
The apprehension grew.
"He was in the finals," James continued. "And his next stop was the Canadian Finals Rodeo with dreams of competing in Vegas."
I swallowed down my own concerns, and looked ahead at the road. I wasn't sure what to say or what I had any right to say.
"It must've been an emotional time for you and your sister," was all I could manage and all I wanted to say.
"It was. It was also hard to see him come so close only to have everything taken away from him, and us, by one person who drank too much." It wasn't difficult to hear the bitterness in his voice.
"That must have tested your faith in God," I said.
"Without a doubt." He braked, then turned on a road well before town. "But somehow I found my way back. I fought against it and I railed against God, but I realized I was lonelier without him, so I came back to my faith. I wish I could say the same for my sister. She has to find her own way through her life, but it makes it complicated for me when she doesn't step up to her responsibilities. I understand why she does it, but it doesn't make it easier to take."
"Family can create complications we don't always foresee," I said. Then I turned to him. "If it's any consolation I've worked with many mothers and children and I see over and over when there is a support network in place, a strong support network, that things can work out for good. Look at Juanita, for instance. She got a wake up call and now she's doing her best to make sure she can get Kent back. I think the bond between a mother and child is very, very strong. I doubt Robin will stay away much longer."
I wanted to say more but just then my phone buzzed. I automatically reached for it.
"Are you on call?" James asked as I pulled it out of my purse.
"No..."
"Then let it ring."
I knew he was right but I couldn't help a quick glance at the screen. Then a flush crept up my neck as I saw Les Steglund's name. And, to my surprise, I didn't want to answer it. At one time Les represented my escape from guys and Holmes crossing in so many ways.
And now?
I did what James suggested and dropped the phone back into my purse.
James gave me a curious look, but thankfully asked nothing more about it.
He made another turn and now we were headed down a gravel road.
"Where in the world are we going?" I asked, recognizing the area but not sure if I'd been here before.
"You'll see when you get there," James said, grinning now.
Now he really had me puzzled and, I had to confess, a little apprehensive.
"You're not taking me to some old abandoned quarry," I said with a nervous chuckle.
"What's life without a few little mysteries?" And that's all he would tell me.
He made another turn, and when I saw the sign I had to laugh.
"Seriously? Go karting?" I shook my head, but part of me was excited. "I've heard my brothers talking about this place, I think it opened not that long ago."
"Where do you think I got the idea?" James said flashing me a grin.
He pulled in front of a low squat building, that looked assembled by kids. As I got out of the truck, I heard the high-pitched buzz of cars roaring around the track.
A few minutes later we were each settled into a little car, strapping helmets on. The owner droned off rote instructions, looking as if he preferred to be anywhere but talking to his customers.
James nodded when he was done, then turned and gave me a thumbs up. "So you're ready to rock 'n roll Hemstead?" he asked looking like he was ready to have the time of his life. I nodded yes, and before he could make another smart remark, I started my go-kart and flashed past him. James roared something at me, but I didn't catch it. I was too busy trying to stay ahead of him and not look back to see how close he was behind me.
A vision of a Les Steglund popped into my head. I tried to imagine him with his knees up leaning into a curve trying to make it around the corner without the wheels lifting off the track. The roar of the engine filled my brain and I was concentrating with all my might, making sure the car didn't flip over. I heard a roar growing behind me, and I knew James was catching. I pulled into the middle of a curve to cut him off, and prevent him from passing me. But as soon as I got on to the straightaway he was up beside me. I chanced a quick look and caught him grinning at me, clearly having a blast.
And to my surprise, I was having fun as well. Pushing the boundaries and roaring down the track combined to give me a most un-lady like rush. We came to another corner, and he pointed ahead to a turnoff that went off the track and up a hill.
I shook my head, not sure I wanted to head out when I had barely gotten the hang of driving this tiny little car on pavement. But James, ignoring me, went ahead and turned onto the trail leaving me no choice but to follow him. At least that's what I told myself. I could've stayed on the safety of the track but I didn't want to get left behind.
Soon we were bouncing over ruts and up and down hills and I couldn't keep the grin off my face. It was noisy and dusty and dirty and twice I got scared and yet in spite of
all of that I had never felt so alive. The sun was shining and summer was around the corner, and today life was great.
We made it back to the track and circled it a few times and this time I was the one that went off the track onto another trail. This one wasn't as rough, but it was very dusty. By the time we got back to the pavement I felt like I was choking.
Half an hour later James motioned to follow him, and we drove the go karts back to the building.
He pulled off his helmet and got out of his car, and I followed suit. "Are you quitting?" I asked him in a teasing tone.
With a rueful grin he pointed at his watch. "Time's up."
"What? Can we go again?" I wasn't ready to quit.
But a couple of young boys were walking toward us holding helmets and it looked like they needed our cars.
"Pretty popular place," James said his grin a white slash against his dusty face. "But I'm sure we can go again sometime."
I liked the sound of that.
We walked back to the truck, and I smiled the whole time.
"You look happy," James said nudging me with his elbow as he opened the door for me.
"I had a lot of fun," I said grinning back at him.
"I know it's not a very girly kind of thing, and I knew I was taking a risk, but when I saw you barreling down the road on your horse, I figured you might enjoy this too."
"I have to admit that I did," I said. "Though I hate to think what I look like."
James tipped his head to one side as if looking at me from a different angle. Then with his thumb, he brushed something off my cheek. Then he did it on the other cheek. Then he frowned. "Nope. That won't do it."
My hands flew to my face wondering what he was talking about. "Is it that bad?
What do I look like?"
"Really dusty, but we look exactly the same." Then he framed my face with his hands, bent down low and pressed a kiss to my lips. I tasted a little bit of grit and a little bit of James and it seemed rough-and-ready.
"I sure hope we are not going anywhere public after this," I said in horror.
“We're going home. You can grab a shower and then we’re going someplace a little more civilized."
"Someplace else?"
Any Man of Mine (Holmes Crossing Book 5) Page 17
