by Lyn Cote
“It’s Tassie,” he took the plunge. “She’s my youngest sister. I’m the oldest in the family and then I have four younger sisters. Tassie’s the youngest.” He was babbling. It hit him then that he was going to have to trust this woman with some personal information about him, about his family. His stomach congealed at the thought.
“Am I doing something, saying something to Tassie that you don’t want me to?”
“No, no, quite the opposite.” He held up both palms toward her. “Tassie is almost human since she began working for you.”
Jo glared at him. “Tassie is a very nice young girl,” she retorted. “I’ve found her to be quite human.”
He’d blown it again. He might as well admit it. “I never seem to be able to express myself well when I talk about Tassie or to her.” He pressed his lips together.
Jo watched, evidently waiting for him to go on.
It brought him the familiar empty-stomach jittering he’d always experienced at the line of scrimmage—waiting for the snap. Could he persuade her to help him? He groped for words. “I want Tassie to have a bright future.”
“From what I’ve seen, she has one.” Jo watched him.
He’d never opened up to anyone about his family. But Tassie needed him to be honest with this woman. Bram stared at the table top and then committed himself. “My parents weren’t…very steady people. They were carnies.”
“What?”
“They worked the carnival circuit, handling games on the midway.”
“I didn’t know that,” Jo said.
He analyzed her tone and found it sympathetic, not at all shocked or condescending. Though he was older than she and they hadn’t been close in school, she must have heard rumors about his family. He appreciated her sensitivity. He gulped another deep breath and continued. “We kids were only with them every summer. Otherwise, we stayed with my grandmother here in town and went to school—until she died and then we stayed with our widowed aunt.”
She nodded encouragingly, still making no comment.
His heart pounded as if he’d just completed ten yards pursued by an opposing team that was down by twenty points. “Our aunt was good to us, too. But at her age, it was hard for her to keep track of me and my three sisters and then Tassie came to her when she was still only a toddler.” He looked into Jo’s eyes.
She seemed to understand how much it was costing him to reveal all these personal details to her. She nodded as if asking him to continue.
“When my sisters were in their teens,” he said, trying to make his voice sound normal in spite of his breathlessness, “they started traveling with my parents. They got into trouble.” Bram hunched up a shoulder.
“Do you mean in trouble with the law or—”
“I mean pregnant and unmarried in their teens.” Bram’s grim expression set like concrete.
“I see.”
His pulse throbbed. Yard by yard, word by word, he was ripping himself open, revealing himself to this near stranger. “The long and short of it is that they all got into trouble in one way or another. When my aunt died while I was finishing college, Tassie spent a couple of years traveling with my parents until they disappeared after dropping Tassie off with my oldest sister.”
“Your parents disappeared?” Surprise laced her voice.
He shrugged, trying to appear unconcerned. “They took off for California and we haven’t heard from them since. I think they’re dead, but we don’t know.”
“My father disappeared when I was ten.” Jo covered the top of her mug with her hands as though warming them.
“What happened to him?” Bram asked. Maybe this woman could understand Tassie’s feelings of loss.
She shrugged. “He left for work one day and never came home. Mom tried to find him, but we never did. She died two years later from cancer.”
His own sympathy bubbled up. He had to clench his hands to keep from reaching out to her. “What happened to you?”
“My mother’s sister, Aunt Becky, took me in and raised me.” Their eyes met with understanding. Bram took heart. “How did Tassie end up here with you?” she asked with evident sympathy.
Almost home free, he sprinted toward the goal, now so near. “When Tassie was still so little, I thought she needed to be with a woman. But none of our sisters could really keep her full-time, so she went to live with each in turn. Then she ended up with Natasha, her next oldest sister….” He halted there, not wanting to go into detail about Natasha’s shortcomings. “Anyway when I got this job, I decided I’d better take Tassie under my wing.” He saw Jo soften completely. He tasted victory.
Jo thought the man across from her looked exhausted. From revealing so much personal history? She ached for Tassie…and Bram. Still, she tightened her resistance. Everyone had suffered. Everyone had a story. She folded her hands to keep herself from touching him. Why do I always end up reaching for him? I thought I had more sense than that. “It sounds like you’ve taken on a big job.”
“I don’t want Tassie to get into trouble.” His words rushed out, tumbling over each other. “I want her to do well in high school and go on to college. I want her to have a good life.”
He looked as though he were appealing to her for something. What? “From what I’ve seen of your sister I don’t think that will be a problem.”
“She needs a woman in her life.”
This struck Jo as ominous. What do you want from me, Bram?
“You see,” he continued, looking down, “because I had someone who cared about me, believed in me, I didn’t fall into the traps my sisters did.”
“Your grandmother?” She tried not to let any emotion color her expression or her tone.
“Yes, when I was little. But in high school my coach was the one who pushed me and made me do right. He made me think I could be somebody. I could do more than live from day to day. I could have a life, a good life.”
Jo nodded, feeling solemn as she recalled all her Aunt Becky had done to encourage her. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to help Tassie. She needs a good female role model.”
Jo opened her mouth, shocked. “You hardly know me.”
“I’ve heard a lot of good things about you. And what’s more important is that Tassie respects you. Will you help me with…all the girl stuff I don’t know about? I mean, you cut her bangs. She looks cute in them, but it never dawned on me that I should take her to a beauty shop or something.” He ran his hands over his dark hair.
“It’s a long way from cutting bangs to be a young girl’s role model.” Jo didn’t want to say no, but how much did this man really want from her?
“I don’t expect a lot from you. I’m not asking you to adopt her or anything. I just want to be able to ask you about feminine stuff. And if you could, after she stops working for you, let Tassie visit you. You don’t know how much her attitude has changed already in a week.”
Jo chewed her lower lip. She felt woefully inadequate about being someone’s role model. I’m only twenty-eight. Am I even old enough? “I don’t know if I’m really the person that Tassie needs.”
“She needs someone,” Bram insisted, “and you’ve already started the job.” His tone turned fierce. “Didn’t you ever need help?”
His impassioned question jolted Jo. Yes, I needed Aunt Becky. And then she realized her decision had already been made. Refusing Bram and Tassie would be impossible.
“Okay, I’ll give it a try,” she said with a profound hesitance still dragging inside her. “But I’ll just go on doing what I’m doing. And after my ankle’s better, I’ll ask Tassie to stop in occasionally. Would that do it?”
“Yes.” Bram gave one big inaudible sigh. “Thank you.” As though sealing the bargain, he took both her hands.
His palms folded over hers, making her feel the difference between them—his roughened large hands around hers. Jo realized that she wanted Bram’s touch. She tilted her head up as though seeking a kiss.
Stop right where you are, Jo. With bone-deep fear she was careful not to show, she slipped her hands from his. Her heart beat in a rapid two-step rhythm, dan-ger, dan-ger.
A week later, Jo sat in the doctor’s office, looking at the X-ray he’d clipped over a lighted panel. “My ankle’s broken then?” Jo despaired.
“Yes, just a hairline crack really.” He ran his finger along a barely visible white line. “The first X-ray missed it.”
“So that’s why I’m still unable to put weight on it.” Jo felt cold waves of helplessness rush over her.
“Correct. A sprain would have healed within seven to ten days. As soon as you called me, I knew we’d missed something the first time. Sorry.”
Jo shrugged. “It’s just one of those things.” What else could she say? She couldn’t throw herself on the floor and have a hissy fit.
“The good news is twofold. Everything we did for the sprain was good for a break, too. So you just need to keep the ankle in the soft splint I put on it today and keep using the crutches until you don’t need them.”
“How long will I need the crutches?”
“With a hairline crack like this, a month to six weeks.” The doctor looked cheerful at this news.
But Jo groaned inwardly. She’d been looking forward to getting back to normal and only seeing Tassie and Bram once or twice a week. Now Tassie would have to continue to come every day. Jo would have to see Bram daily and show no evidence whatsoever of the havoc his nearness caused her.
In addition, the ads had finally brought her some business and she had several spring weddings to do. She didn’t know if Henderson’s had given up the new customer discount or what. And she didn’t have time to find out. She could still work, but crutches would slow her down. Now she’d need Tassie more than ever. I can do this. I can keep my emotions under control. Then Bram’s face came to mind and she felt her resistance to his effortless charm crumble like a sand castle under the tide.
The third Friday afternoon in March, Jo sat at the counter, taking a phone order. “Now, how many centerpieces did you need for the luncheon?”
“Twelve,” the chair of the local women’s club replied. “We’ve been so happy with what you’ve done for us in previous years. You have our theme for this year. Just stay within my budget and I’m sure I’ll be happy.”
“I wish all my customers were as easy to please,” Jo said in all sincerity.
“I wish everyone I contacted were as reliable as you. Thanks, Jo.”
“Thank you!” Jo couldn’t help herself. She was beaming as she hung up the phone.
“Another order?” Tassie asked from the doorway into the work room.
“Yes!” Jo felt like jumping up and dancing, but instead picked up her crutches and waved them high as if they were legs in a chorus line. “We need to celebrate. Lock the back door. We’re going to walk down the street and get malts at the ice cream parlor.”
“Cool!” Tassie ran to the rear and then returned, pulling on her red lightweight jacket. The first enticing breath of spring had arrived with the morning.
The two of them reached the ice cream place, ready to indulge. “Two chocolate malts, my good woman,” Jo ordered airily, “and whipped cream on top of both.” The waitress smiled at them and quickly whipped up their treats.
“So how is school going?” Jo asked, remembering she was supposed to be helping the girl, not just filling her with tasty sugar.
Tassie shrugged one shoulder and looked down.
“It’s hard making many friends when you’re the new kid,” Jo said, trying to draw out the girl.
“Yeah,” Tassie grunted.
Well, the direct approach wasn’t working. Another thought came to Jo’s mind. She studied Tassie’s complexion. It had the teen look. A stray blemish here and there.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Tassie looked puzzled.
“What skin care products do you use?”
Tassie’s eyebrows lifted. “I wash it with soap.”
Jo made a sound of despair. “Good grief, I’m glad I asked. We’ve got to get you busy taking care of that lovely skin of yours.”
Tassie grunted again. “My skin isn’t lovely.” She pointed at one of the blemishes.
“Proper skin care can help with that. The most important thing is to get you started taking care of your skin. It’s never too young to start a skin-care regimen.”
Tassie looked intrigued in spite of herself.
“We’ll go to Holly’s someday soon after work. You’ll need cleansing cream. Every evening and morning, apply it in circles over your face and neck. Then rinse with warm water and pat your skin dry.”
Tassie listened intently while drawing on her straw.
“Never, never rub your skin with a towel,” Jo lectured. “After you cleanse, then apply moisturizer. We’ll get you one made especially for skin like yours—not too dry, not too oily and one moisturizer with a hint of menthol to dry up any blemishes. But you will have much fewer if you start taking care of your skin.”
Tassie looked worried. “I don’t know if I have enough money saved.”
“No problem. You can pay me out of your next check. I really appreciate all your help. It seems like since I can’t get around easily, everything I touch I drop.”
“Hey.” Bram walked in the door. “I was coming to the shop and saw you two.”
His entrance shook Jo. She almost dropped her malt.
“Oh, Bram, Miss Jo’s teaching me about how to take care of my skin. Can you lend me some money for moisturizer and stuff and I’ll pay you back when I get my check?”
Bram seemed uncertain, and Jo gave him a look, reminding him that she was only doing what he’d asked her to.
“Sure, sis,” Bram agreed promptly. “Jo must know what she’s talking about. Her skin looks great.”
Jo felt herself go pink at his compliment. He doesn’t mean it. He’s just going along. “You’re early,” Jo pointed out, not voicing the final word she was thinking which was again. It seemed that the more she tried to distance herself from Bram, the more she found him underfoot.
“Tassie mentioned that your work-counter sink was leaking underneath.” He pulled a jar out of his jacket pocket. “I brought some plumber’s compound. That might take care of it without your calling a plumber.”
“Really, you don’t need to—”
“My pleasure, ma’am.” He smiled at her.
Her insides melted under the onslaught of his approval. She’d have to get him alone and tell him he didn’t have to do this stuff just because she was helping his sister. She preferred him to wait outside in his truck as he had at first. Getting him to do this again would be simple self-defense.
Chapter Five
Back at her shop, Jo fidgeted on her workbench. She tried to concentrate on a fresh-flower arrangement, a last-minute order she needed to get out before six. But her eyes kept drifting away from the project at hand to Bram’s long legs encased in khaki chinos, stretched out on the floor beside her stool. His head and upper torso hidden under her work sink, Bram had overborne all her objections and was fixing the leaky pipe. Thank heaven, today is Friday and this week is almost over. Tassie won’t be coming Saturday. And tomorrow, Jo had something to look forward to, breakfast at the Mimosa Bed and Breakfast with her two best friends—Hannah and Elizabeth. She took strength from this thought
“How’s business?” Bram’s muffled voice drifted up from below.
“Better.” She put the final touch on the arrangement of lavender hyacinths and daisies.
“The ads helped, then?”
Jo had asked herself the same question. “I guess. I just know that my customers started coming back to me.”
“Why not?” Bram demanded. “You’re really good at this stuff.”
His words weren’t poetry but she couldn’t help herself. She sparkled, zinging with his praise.
Tassie walked in. “I swept the front area.” She paused by her brother’s legs. “H
ow’s it going, big brother?”
“Almost done,” Bram grunted as though working hard at something.
“Bram,” Tassie continued, “Miss Jo invited me to church this Sunday. Can I go?”
Silence.
Jo said a quick prayer for Bram to agree. For a bright future, Tassie needed more than lessons on being a lady. Jo hoped she could give her a taste for the faith that did not fail.
“Which church is it?” he asked in a cautious voice.
“The big church around the corner,” Tassie replied.
“Okay. What time’s the service?”
Tassie turned to her.
Jo cleared her throat. “Nine o’clock for Sunday school. I’d be glad to pick Tassie up. Or I should say, my Aunt Becky is going to pick me up and we can stop for Tassie.”
Bram slid out from under the sink. “No, I’ll bring her. I’ve thought several times this year about getting into a church, but I haven’t followed through. Thanks for the nudge.”
Jo looked down on Bram, stretched out in all his masculine glory just inches from her feet. He gazed up at her with those dark, serious eyes of his. Suddenly she felt as though she’d run around the block ten times. Despite her galloping emotions, she wanted Tassie and Bram at church. After all, Aunt Becky had taken her to church as a child and God had brought Jo through all her hard times. He could do the same for Tassie.
People needed God—to know his love and redemption. And Jo was happy that Bram hadn’t fought her on this. But I didn’t think he’d come, too. She pressed her lips together tightly, though she hadn’t spoken a word aloud. Don’t be petty, Jo. It isn’t attractive.
“Great!” Tassie did a brief cheerleader-type jump. “I’ll deliver that for you.” She pointed to the arrangement in front of Jo.
“Okay. It’s just two blocks away. And then you’ll be done for the day.”
“I can drive you.” Rising in one fluid motion from the floor, Bram reached into his pocket for keys.
