Wanted

by Karen Rose Smith

  “Sure, you can. But I think we’ll need plenty of napkins to go along with the sweet roll.”

  Jase pulled dishes from a cupboard and a few napkins from another. They all sat at the table. Amy was happily biting into jelly, sweet icing and pastry when Jase said, “In your interview, I heard you lost your husband a year ago. I’m sorry.”

  Sara tore off a piece of a roll but suddenly had no appetite for it. Thanks to real-time research, the journalist who’d interviewed her had already known much of her background. “Yes, it was a year ago.”

  “Was it sudden?” Jase prompted.

  “A heart attack.”

  Jase’s expression turned questioning, so she added, “He was fifteen years older than I was. Forty-four. The doctor said whatever triggered it might have been a congenital abnormality.”

  And physically, she knew that was certainly true. But the stress in his life definitely hadn’t helped. She tried to keep herself from feeling guilty, but she was to blame, too—for being so blind. She hadn’t known he’d taken on a supersized mortgage. She hadn’t known about his credit card debt. As a new wife, first pregnant and then busy with an infant as well as work, she’d let Conrad handle their finances. She hadn’t asked enough questions. She’d trusted too much.

  Jase’s eyes were kind as he looked at her, and her heart started thumping faster as she thought she saw more than kindness there.

  Unexpectedly, Amy laid very sticky fingers on Jase’s shirtsleeve and asked, “Can I have some milk?”

  “Oh, Amy.” Grape jelly streaked the white fabric of Jase’s shirt. Over the years, Sara had found men didn’t like the messiness of kids. Conrad had never wanted to feed Amy himself when she was a baby, so it was automatic for Sara to jump up, grab a napkin and try to fix the mess. Had she resented that he didn’t seem to love their daughter as much as she did?

  She dabbed at Jase’s sleeve, smearing the jelly more. Her fingers slipped from the material to his arm. His skin was hot, his hair rough, and when she met his gaze—

  The inordinate silence when their awareness of each other took hold was enough to rattle her bones.

  “Mommy, I’m sorry,” Amy wailed.

  Sara knew she was making a mess of this whole thing. She wrapped her arm around her daughter. “It’s okay. We’ll wash Mr. Cramer’s shirt. We’ll fix this.”

  Jase clasped her shoulder. “It’s okay. Relax. It’s just a shirt.”

  He addressed Amy. “Sticky fingers and sweet rolls go together. Let me get that milk.” He rolled both of his sleeves up further to cover the jelly and grinned at Amy. “See? All fixed.”

  He motioned for Sara to sit again. “You’re too jumpy. You need to take a walk through the vineyard and relax.” Then he must have realized he’d chided her and shook his head. “Sorry. I have no right to give you advice. I can’t imagine what losing your home was like.”

  Then, to Sara’s astonishment, Jase went to the sink, ripped a paper towel from the roll under the counter, wet it and sat down with Amy. “Here, let’s get some of that jelly off. Your milk will slide through your fingers.”

  “I’ll do that.” Sara reached for the towel in his hand. With instant clarity, she remembered some of the photos in the paper and online of Jase feeding little children who were malnourished, of him holding one Amy’s age in his arms.

  His fingers covered hers as she took the towel. “You’ve got to relax,” he said again. “Everything is going to get better.”

  His touch sent tingles through her. That was odd. After all, she’d treated him...she’d touched him when he was her patient. But as with all patients, she’d closed herself off against any personal feelings. She’d been married and she’d ignored vibrations coming from men who were anything more than just friendly. But now, today, it was like the floodgates had opened. Everything about Jase Cramer made her feel overly sensitized to him.

  Sara had torn off a piece of her sweet roll and tasted it when Jase brought three tall glasses of milk to the table. Amy’s was only half-full, and again Sara appreciated his knowledge of kids.

  Sara was watching Amy drink from the tall glass without spilling it when she heard footsteps outside the kitchen doorway.

  Ethan Cramer entered the room. She recognized him from photos in the paper about him and Raintree Winery. Raintree Wines had won awards and Fawn Grove lauded their citizens who made good.

  Having never met Ethan Cramer, Sara didn’t know what to expect, but she was sensitive to his expression of disapproval as his gaze fell on her and Amy. Jase and his father looked nothing alike.

  Where Jase was all dark intensity, black hair and gray eyes, his father’s hair was blond and thinning. His blue eyes were sharp as he asked his son, “This is Ms. Stevens?”

  “Yes, this is Sara and her daughter.”

  “I’m sorry you lost your home,” Ethan said while studying her.

  She didn’t know quite what to say to that. She didn’t know what was behind his words, but something was. Jase had told her his father was on board if she and Amy wanted to stay in the cottage, but now she wondered if that was really true.

  “Jase invited us over for some sweet rolls while I decide if we want to stay in the cottage or not. It’s very kind of you to offer it.”

  “Jase offered it, and I agreed it was the right thing to do. But as soon as you’re back on your feet, I expect you’ll find your own place again.”

  “Father!”

  “Mr. Cramer, if you’d rather we not use the cottage, I will find somewhere else.”

  Jase, who had been looking more tense and even more frustrated, stepped in. “If it weren’t for Sara, I wouldn’t have recovered as fast as I did to help you here. I owe her a debt of gratitude.”

  “Yes, I know you do,” Ethan said with a sigh, just looking weary now. “And when her stay here is over, we’ll consider your debt repaid.” Ethan focused on Sara. “Have you made a decision?”

  Their circumstances seemed less than ideal, yet her options were limited as were her finances. She was fairly certain she and Amy could stay out of Ethan Cramer’s way. Amy would be at day care during the week and Sara would be working. In the evening, they could easily keep to themselves. Weekends they would be busy with errands and rebuilding their life. They had no reason to run into Ethan Cramer, or even Jase, for that matter. Sunshine, space to wander and a room of her own would be good for Amy. Sara would be foolish not to accept.

  “Raintree Winery is a beautiful place. Amy needs a little bit of that right now until we can start sewing our lives back together. So we’d like to stay in the cottage for a while.”

  Ethan gave a nod, then addressed Jase. “Don’t forget, you’re supposed to meet with Liam and me over at the winery at one. I want to discuss the new barrels.”

  “I won’t forget.”

  Jase’s voice was tight and Sara wondered if the tension she sensed between father and son was just about her and Amy staying here or if it went further back than that. Had Ethan wanted Jase to work here all along while Jase had wanted to photograph the world and wander? But now that Jase was back, didn’t Ethan Cramer have what he wanted?

  With a nod, Ethan left the kitchen and closed the door behind him.

  Amy had seemed unaware of the undercurrent. She was finishing her sweet roll with swigs of milk every once in a while, getting sticky icing all over her mouth and fingers again.

  Sara crossed the room to the sink for another wet paper towel. Jase followed her and stood beside her.

  “I don’t know what got into him,” Jase said.

  “Is he usually so...frosty?”

  “He’s always been remote and sometimes cold. I’ve accepted that.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Ethan Cramer isn’t my father. He’s my adoptive father.”

  “
I didn’t know that.”

  “I don’t talk about it. The people who have lived in Fawn Grove all their lives know.”

  “I moved here after I earned my master’s in PT.”

  “Where did you grow up?”

  “San Francisco. I went to college at Berkeley.”

  “Is your family still there?”

  “I lost my parents the day I graduated from college. They were in an accident on the way there.”

  “Sara.” He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward him. “You’ve known too much loss.”

  “Everyone has losses. Everyone misses their loved ones. I think, though, the missing’s always there and we have to figure out a way to put it in perspective. I did that by focusing on getting my master’s and helping wherever I could in my practice. But I needed a fresh start, so I went to a placement professional. She found me the position in Fawn Grove. I’ve been happy here.”

  “Until this past year.”

  Until before that, really, but Jase didn’t know that. His hands on her shoulders felt as if they belonged there. His close proximity led her to study his high cheekbones, his cleft chin, the scars along one temple that were white against his tan.

  Suddenly Jase released her and leaned away. She saw something in his eyes and wondered if it had to do with his relationships with women...with the fiancée who’d deserted him when he was at his lowest.

  For whatever reason, she was glad he’d backed away. She wasn’t about to get involved with any man again, not even one who seemed to have a rapport with kids, not even one whose mere looks could cause a zing up her nerve endings. Not involved. Never again. Not ever.

  Chapter Two

  After his shower, Jase paced his suite in the main house Saturday morning. Sara would be here soon, as well as The Mommy Club volunteers. He just hoped his decision to invite Sara and her daughter to Raintree hadn’t been a mistake.

  The only mistake he’d made up to this point in his life had been getting involved with Dana. She’d been tempting, exciting and energized with enthusiasm for her career. He hadn’t seen beyond the curves and sex appeal. He’d begun dreaming of a life they could share. But Dana had latched on to another man as if he’d been a lifeline away from Jase, what had happened to him, his injuries and an uncertain recovery. She’d bailed in the most damaging of ways and Jase still stung from her betrayal and her attitude about it.

  For the past two years, Jase had poured every waking moment into making Raintree the most successful vineyard in California. There had been no time for women or their machinations.

  He grabbed a pair of clean jeans from the closet and dressed. The problem was—he didn’t categorize Sara with other women. Because of her, he had full use of his shoulder. Because of her, his strength had slowly returned, his muscle tone had increased and his attitude about his life had done a one-eighty.

  Honesty made him admit he’d been attracted to her when he’d been her patient, but he’d seen that ring on her finger. He’d heard her tenderly talk about her two-year-old daughter. He would have never messed with that.

  The devil on his shoulder seemed to whisper, She’s a widow now.

  Maybe so. But she was a homeless, vulnerable widow and he’d never take advantage of that. Besides, he’d given up on white picket fences and vows that lasted forever. Nothing good lasted forever—not in his experience. And the truth of it was he didn’t believe he could ever trust a woman again.

  Had he made the right decision asking Sara to Raintree? His father was on edge. And Jase himself wasn’t sure how this situation would play out.

  It was temporary. It would play out...and life as he’d come to know it would go on.

  * * *

  Grateful didn’t even begin to describe how Sara felt as Jase helped one of The Mommy Club volunteers carry a sofa in a pretty mauve-and-green-flowered slipcover into the cottage. This was moving day. She still didn’t know if she’d made the right decision coming to Raintree Winery, but watching Amy coloring under a live oak, the sun-dappled blanket around her, she was surer today than she had been for the past week.

  Jase stood in the doorway and beckoned to her. He hadn’t even broken a sweat. His broad shoulders filled the space and she couldn’t see behind him. He’d been careful this morning not to get too close. She’d been careful about proximity, too.

  When Sara glanced toward Amy, Jase assured her, “She’s fine. She knows exactly where you are.” He motioned to his assistant, Marissa, who was dropping another pack of markers beside Amy. “Will you keep an eye on her?” he called.

  Marissa smiled and nodded.

  “Marissa’s the one who knew all about The Mommy Club and gave me Kaitlyn’s number. Apparently the organization helped her when she was pregnant.”

  Then, glancing inside the cottage, he changed the subject back to the situation at hand. “You need to tell us which wall would be the best backing for the sofa.”

  Sara hadn’t seen Jase since the day she’d visited Raintree to decide about the cottage. She’d spoken to him on the phone a few times to make arrangements for today, and each time, the sound of his voice had lingered long after the call.

  She glanced up at the hummingbird feeder he’d hung on the porch and had to smile. When he stood aside to let her enter, she was aware of his aftershave and trying not to be.

  The sofa sat crosswise in the living room. Her attention was focused more on Jase than on the furniture. Still, she eyed the space instead of his gray eyes.

  “Let’s not put it against a wall,” she said. “Let’s move it in front of the fireplace. Amy and I can curl up there on cool nights. We can put that wing chair by the window and Amy can watch TV from there.”

  “Don’t you watch TV?”

  “Not so much. If I do settle down on the sofa at night after Amy goes to bed, I usually conk out.” Or she sat in the silence and worried about how she was going to pay the bills. But Jase didn’t need to know that. If she confided in him about Conrad and about the debts, she’d be opening the door to confidences she didn’t know she was ready to share...didn’t know if she’d ever be ready for again.

  Steering the subject away from her personal life, Sara commented, “I wonder where all this furniture came from. If it was used, it’s been repainted and repaired like new.”

  “I did a little digging and found out there are a lot of guardian angels in The Mommy Club, from someone depositing funds in a never-ending account, to all the volunteers who lend a helping hand.”

  Kaitlyn Foster slipped into the small cottage. She was a striking woman, with blond hair and green eyes, who could make any woman envious of her. But her personality as a compassionate pediatrician was as striking as her good looks. That compassion seemed to extend to all areas of her life. She’d been so kind to Sara after the fire and so good with Amy.

  Now she was carrying a small bedside lamp in pink and white, perfect for a little girl’s room. “I just have to plug this in and Amy’s room is ready. The sheets are on the bed if you want to make it.”

  “I don’t know how I’m ever going to repay The Mommy Club. Is there anything I can do to help kids or a family who needs it?”

  Kaitlyn said, “We have a food drive coming up, as well as a summer program for kids and parents. We provide lunches and food baskets for families who are down on their luck and kids who are hungry. All of it makes a difference. Even if lunch is just a sandwich with an apple, the kids act like it’s a gourmet meal. We can always use help. After you get settled in, we can talk about it more.”

  Jase suddenly said, “I’d like to help, too.”

  Both women stared at him.

  “What? A man can’t help The Mommy Club? I can donate funds and a little time. Sure, I’m as busy as the next guy, but helping kids—that used to be my life’s goal.”

&n
bsp; Again some of the pictures Jase had taken and stories he’d written ran through Sara’s mind. She knew precisely what had happened to change his life’s goal. What exactly was his goal now? Did he miss his old life?

  After Kaitlyn said again she’d be in touch about the food drive and headed toward Amy’s room, Jase moved away from Sara, took one end of the sofa and pushed it where she wanted it in front of the fireplace. “How’s that?”

  “Perfect. If you ever tire of making wine, you can move furniture,” she joked.

  He gazed straight out the window to the winery. When his gaze met hers again, she thought she saw a bit of longing in his eyes. Just what did Jase Cramer long for?

  He studied her and then came closer, his voice low and a bit husky. He said, “The only reason I can push that sofa around is the physical therapy you gave me.”

  “Jase—”

  “Don’t tell me it isn’t so.”

  “Any therapist who took you on as a patient could have strengthened your arm and shoulder and put you on an exercise regimen to make you healthy again.”

  “I don’t know if I believe that. It was your caring and your positive outlook that made me see I could have a future here, that photojournalism wasn’t the be-all and end-all. You provided more than physical therapy, Sara. I imagine you do with all your patients.”

  She felt herself blushing, a condition she’d had since childhood that affected her when she was nervous or upset. Now she was neither of them, but she was blushing anyway.

  As she looked into Jase’s face and saw he really meant what he said, her heart raced. At the V-neck of his T-shirt, black hair curled against his tan skin. She remembered the scars on his shoulder, the line across his stomach where bullets had almost been the death of him. A field doctor at the refugee camp had done emergency surgery and saved his life under awful conditions. Yes, Jase was lucky to be alive. She knew what the experience had cost him—the notes were in his medical records.

  Amy suddenly came running in and wrapped her arms around Sara’s legs. It was a relief to take her attention away from Jase and give it to her daughter. Her first and foremost concern always had to be Amy. “What’s up, Bitsy Bug?”