And James...
"We could give you two weeks," Les continued, as if sensing my hesitation. "Out of courtesy for your current boss."
Could I up and leave in the middle of all my work, knowing that Casey, odious as he might be, would be even more short-handed? Even two weeks wouldn't be enough to wrap up my current case load.
You knew this was coming. There will never be a good time.
I chewed my lip, thinking.
This is what you wanted, isn't it?
Was it my imagination or did my alter ego sound sarcastic?
And why was I not surprised when I heard another knock on the door? I excused myself, got up to answer it. Again my heart started up. Again it wasn't James.
Instead, the person standing on my doorstep was Robin, her mascara running in brown rivulets down her cheek, sobbing her heart out.
"Where's my baby and where's James?" she cried out as soon as I opened the door. She caught me by my shoulder, grabbing onto me, as if afraid I would disappear, as well. "The house is empty and that crib..." She sucked in a breath. "The crib is empty, too. Did my brother take off with her? Where did he go?"
"He's moving today." I could see she was terrified and didn't need a lecture on "if you wouldn't have abandoned your baby, leaving her with your older brother, you might have known what was going on in her life." I sensed now was not the time. Such a pro, I am. "He's probably got Sherry with him."
"Where is he moving? Why is he moving?"
He's moving because he doesn't want to see me every day. He's moving because he's angry with me. Which, being the soul of discretion, I kept to myself.
"The place he's moving to isn't far from here. Do you want to come in and wait for him?"
Robin sniffed, sucked in a shaky breath and nodded, palming her mascara off of her cheeks. "Yeah. That'd be nice."
I introduced her to Les. He got a trembling smile, but then Robin spied the breakfast nook. "Can I pull a chair into there to watch?"
"Sure. Do you want coffee or anything?"
"No. I just want to know where my baby is." She grabbed a chair by the back, dragged it to the nook and sat down, twisting her hands around each other. "I'll just sit here, 'kay?"
It wasn't really "'kay," not with Les here, but I nodded. "He'll be back soon. I'm sure of it."
I poured Les a cup of coffee, then he opened his blazer and pulled out a long, white envelope. "I have here the offer of employment and the contract we like our future employees to sign. I brought it along for you to see."
I refocused my attention from Robin and her brother to Les. My hands were shaking as I took the letter. I now held my future in my hands. This had been my focus for the past few months. The vision that had pulled me through the frustrating moments with my brothers and my father and my boss and my work.
It represented a new future--in the city--away from Holmes Crossing.
But instead of tearing the envelope open, I set it beside my coffee cup. It was good news. It could wait.
"The letter sets out the terms of employment, benefits package, all that," Les said helpfully, glancing from the letter to me. I could see he didn't understand why I wasn't ripping it open, either. "So how soon can you move to the city?" he said, pressing the point.
"I'd need to find an apartment..." I let my voice trail off as I glanced around the kitchen, thought of my cozy bedroom and how excited I had been to have a real bedroom instead of the curtained-off space I'd shared with Chip for the first ten years of my life.
"We could help you with that."
"Why would you want to move to an apartment?" Robin put in from her corner of the kitchen. "They suck. There's never enough space. You've got a great place here. I'd stay if I was you."
Now I was getting advice from a young woman who thought nothing of leaving her baby daughter with her brother and taking off to who knows where and only phoning once.
I levelled her a blank look. She cut her eyes away from me, as if she understood my unspoken thoughts. "Besides, James wouldn't like it if you moved away."
Her words hung in the air like a faint challenge.
"Is James your brother?" Les asked me, thankfully ignoring Robin's little comment.
"No, James is my brother." Robin looked at him, suspicion narrowing her eyes. "He likes Danielle," she said, throwing the words down like a challenge.
I stifled a groan. Why did she think Les Steglund, good-looking man, future coworker, potential date, needed to know that?
And how did she know?
"James is a good guy." Robin got up from her chair and stood beside me. "I shouldn't have left Sherry with him. I know that." Robin dropped into a chair and caught my hand, her expression entreating me to understand. "She cries a lot, and I didn't know what to do with her. When I found out I was pregnant, I wanted to get rid of her. But James talked me out of it. So when I was having problems I thought it was his idea, he could take care of her. So I left her with James. I had a friend say I could come and stay. But not with Sherry. I couldn't do it--take care of her. You know? I didn't mean to mess up his plans." She squeezed my hand, hard, emphasizing her point. "I miss my baby so much it hurts, and I'm sorry I took off, but I was all alone and I was scared I would hurt her. I'm glad James took care of her. He's the best brother in the world, Danielle."
That I could agree with. I couldn't think of too many brothers who would be willing or able to take care of an infant niece. In spite of James's initial anger with his sister, never once did I hear him complain. In fact, if anything, he was almost over-protective. And now I find out he had convinced her to keep her baby, as well.
A good man.
The words gently sifted through my mind, then settled light as a feather.
A good man. A good guy.
Les cleared his throat, then reached over and took the letter from me. He slit it open with his pinky, pulled out the letter and laid it on the table. "I will need you to sign this for me so we can process your information. For our payroll department."
I bit my lip as I looked down at the letter. Robin clung to my hand. I felt suspended between two places and didn't know which way to go.
I looked at Les, who was watching me now, a puzzled frown creasing his forehead. The letter lay on the table between us. Ominous. Waiting. "How soon do I need to give you my answer?" I asked.
His frown deepened. "I suppose we could wait a few days. Though I thought you hoped to begin as soon as possible."
"I...I have a few cases I will need to clear up that will take a little longer than I had thought."
"Why don't you tell me what you'll need."
I bit my lip. What did I need? How long would it take? I really had no idea. And while I was hesitating, I heard the noise of a truck returning.
Robin saw him the same time I did. "James is back."
I didn't think he would be back this soon, but sure enough, there he was. And he was striding toward the house. Without Sherry.
He knocked on the door, but he didn't wait for me and came right in. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, his eyes flicking from me to Robin, who had jumped up from the table.
"James, you're here." Robin ran to him, then stopped. "Where's Sherry? Where's my baby? What did you do with her?" Her voice grew more hysterical with each question.
James caught her by the shoulders and gave her a light shake. "Robin, relax. Sherry is sleeping at the other place. Neil is with her now."
Robin gave a shuddering sob. Just like Sherry. "I thought she was gone. I'm sorry I took off and let you take care of her. I'll be a good mother. I will."
James pulled her to him and stroked her head, and I felt a tug of jealousy. "I know you will, Robin, and I want to help you do it."
She pushed herself away and then looked back at me and Les. James followed the direction of her gaze. "Thanks for letting me stay here, Danielle," she said. "And I hope you like your new job."
James lowered his hands, his eyebrows shooting together. "New job?"
Robin sniffed and nodded. "Yeah. That guy over there--" she chucked her chin in Les's direction "--he's Danielle's new boss."
"Coworker," Les corrected, getting to his feet.
I guess now I had to introduce them. I stood up, gesturing toward Les. "James, this is Les Steglund. Les, this is James Ashby. He's a friend of my brothers."
The contrast between the two men couldn't have been more extreme. Les, all polished and clean, his cheeks still shining from his close shave, his hair neatly clipped and artfully styled. James, dirty and dusty in his frayed jeans with a hole in the knee, his worn jean jacket, his hair that hung past his collar and the stubble that shadowed his cheeks. The man and the guy.
Except the guy had some hidden depths. A diamond in the rough. And the sight of him made my knees wobbly and my breath shaky.
James's gaze ticked from Les to me, a mocking tilt to his smile. "Only a friend of your brothers? Danielle, I'm disappointed."
So much for hidden depths. I knew exactly what he was up to. He was trying to show Les that there was more between us than I was letting on. He was jealous. The thought sent a light shiver trickling down my neck.
"A very good friend," I conceded.
"And this man..." James chucked his chin in Les's direction. "He's a friend, too?"
"Coworker," Les repeated, annoyance entering his voice.
"At your new job," James said. "Your neat and tidy job."
"Her new position will have multiple challenges," Les protested. "She will be a valuable asset to our organization."
James didn't even glance at Les. "Danielle's more than an asset," he said, his tone taking on an edge I hadn't heard before.
And, from the surprised look on her face, neither had Robin.
"But I won't deny the valuable part," James continued. "She's valuable to the people of Holmes Crossing, as well. The people who don't have someone to speak for them, or stand up for them. People like Kent and Laurel and many others." He held my gaze as if he was trying to say more. "People like me."
My heart fluttered. I couldn't look away from him. And as our eyes held, something indefinable, but tangible, quivered in the air. The moment held, stretched, and Les, Robin and the entire kitchen slipped away from my conscious thought. I was waiting for the flute to come in, all soft and breathy, and for James to come striding toward me à la Richard Gere in First Knight, but then Les cleared his throat and Robin said, "Hey, James. What's going on?" and I crashed back to earth.
I'm leaving. I'm quitting my job and going to the city. That's why this Les guy is here...
Man. Les is a man. James is a guy.
But as James slipped his arm tenderly around his sister and escorted her out of my kitchen, and toward the other house, I realized that distinction meant nothing anymore.
And his Rodeo career?
Even in that there was a gentle nobility I had never wanted to recognize because I was so caught up in my own grief. Talking to Neil had been cathartic and had given me another insight into what had happened to Wyatt.
It was a freak accident brought together by a confluence of events no one could have foreseen and that no one was responsible for.
An awkward silence followed James departure. I fiddled with the strings of my apron, wondering how to proceed, when the sound of a loudly honking horn pushed away my thoughts. What was this? Grand Central Station?
I ran out the door, thinking of my father. Then my poor overworked heart dropped into my stomach.
A rusted, beaten old truck rocked to a halt inches from the back bumper of Les Steglund's BMW. The door opened and Steve Stinson got out. He hitched the belt of his pants, scratched his chest and looked around, taking stock. Then his beady eyes zeroed in on me and he smiled--an oily, greasy, stomach-turning grin. "Well, well, there you are." He hitched his pants again and sauntered over. King of his domain.
I was wondering how long it would be before he came here. He had scattered enough threats around that I was actually surprised it hadn't happened sooner.
"Where's your brother, Chip?" he asked, taking slow deliberate steps up the stairs. He stopped at the top one, rested his hands on his hips and grinned at me.
My stomach flipped but I faced him down. Don't show fear. Don't blink. Be the tough girl your brothers and James seem to think you are.
"What do you want, Steve?" I kept my voice firm, pushing my innate fear of him down.
"Ooh. Aren't we the little banty hen." He laughed shortly and then looked past me. "And here's the rooster, a different one than before. You've been a busy little hen."
"What...do...you...want?" I asked putting hard emphasis on each word.
Steve's grin abruptly shifted to a sneer and he came toe to toe with me. "I...want...to...teach...Chip...a...lesson."
My breath fluttered in my throat. Steve was sober this time and now I was scared stiff.
"Hey, I think you should leave," Les said from behind me.
Steve glanced at him, laughed, then turned back to me. "Pretty boy says I should leave. But I don't want to." He grabbed me by the arm and gave me a shake. "Tell me where Chip is."
I jerked my arm back, but Steve was stronger than I thought. "I'll call the police, Steve."
In the corner of my eye I saw Les move toward him, but one glare from Steve stopped him dead. He turned back to me. "And how are you going to call the cops with me hanging on to you, sugar?"
I gave another ineffectual jerk, wondering how this stand-off would end. Though I had faced down many belligerent parents, uncles, even grandparents, none had ever laid a hand on me. I tried to think, tried to plan, but couldn't. And Les wasn't being much help.
"Let me go, Steve. This is only making things worse." Plus he was cutting the circulation off my dialling hand.
"Worse for you, hon. So far, I'm doing fine."
"But not for long, Steve."
James's voice was quiet but it resonated.
Relief made my bones weak as James walked up the steps, his booted feet ringing out on the boards. "Let her go, Steve. Now."
Steve glanced from James to me, then back again. "Oh, yeah. I remember you. You're the other guy." Steve looked at Les. "Did you know about this one?" he asked Les, chucking his chin toward James. "Little Miss Danielle here's been seeing him, too. Saw them together by the river, all nice and cozy a while back."
"Thanks for the update, Steve," James said, smiling now. "Now get your hands off Miss Hemstead or I'll have to help you along."
"Like you did then? Lots of guys here. Lots of talk, but no action." Steve gave my arm a shake. I pushed at him and then, before I could even register what had happened, Steve was jerked away from me. James twisted him onto his back on the porch. Steve stared with shock and surprise up at James, who still smiled and now had his booted foot on Steve's chest.
"I think you've stayed long enough, Steve," James said pleasantly.
Steve wasn't smiling. In fact, to my surprise, he looked scared. James waited a beat, to make his point, then took his foot away. Steve scrambled to his feet, sidled past James and scurried back to his truck. Seconds later he was off the yard and gone. Just like that.
I drew in a trembling breath and James turned to me. "You okay?"
I nodded, though my legs shook and wobbled. James glanced at Les. "Get her inside, though I don't think Steve will be back."
And then he was gone again.
I turned down Les's offer of support. I made my way back into the house, insisting I was fine, still surprised at how quickly and efficiently James had dealt with Steve. Surprised at how trembly I felt. Steve had come at me but James had rescued me.
Does that change everything?
I wasn't sure, but it did shift something in my tired and still shaky brain.
Les finished his coffee, made small talk about the job, encouraged me to call him if I needed help finding an apartment, and then he scampered off. He was probably wondering what kind of loony person would show up next.
I gather
ed up the coffee cups, my hands still shaking from my close call with Steve. What would I have done if James wasn't here? I thought again of how James had handled him. Nothing drastic, nothing dramatic, but he got the point across and, better yet, Steve looked spooked.
Thank You, Lord, I prayed, dropping the cups in the sink. Thank You for James.
I washed up, trying to gather my still scattered wits, my mind going backward over the events of the afternoon. In spite of my encounter with Steve, though, other things resonated through my head. James telling Les that I was valuable. To him. Why had he said that?
You know why. He said before that he cares about you. When you and he had your couple's spat.
We weren't a couple. We had kissed a few times. That first time...I let my mind drift back, reliving the touch of his lips on mine, how his eyes glowed, what his hair felt like...no that was the second time...when I brought Sherry to the arena...but he didn't kiss me then...he just...
Ice water running over my hands broke my daydream and with a shake of my head, I switched the water to hot, rinsed off the cups and put them in the dishwasher.
I'd made plans to bake, but I was feeling out of sorts from the past hour's events. Steve. Les's coming.
James.
I yanked off my apron, threw it on the kitchen table, retreated to my bedroom, fell backwards on my bed and stared up at the ceiling, wondering why my life was such a frayed and rough business. I had foolishly thought I had solved all my problems, but somehow my life's focus had shifted and my solutions had created more problems.
I liked James.
I more than liked James. I loved how he took care of his sister. I loved how he took care of his niece. I loved how he took his responsibilities seriously. How he'd rescued me just now.
I loved him.
Couldn't. He'd only been a part of my life for a short while.
I loved him.
I thought again of what James had told me about finding contentment in the "now." Was I really living a negative? Was I only thinking about leaving because it was easier than staying and dealing with what I had right now?
Any Man of Mine (Holmes Crossing Book 5) Page 21
