Be Mine (3 page)

“My, it’s getting cold again. You look tuckered out. What you need is a hot bath before dinner. There’s plenty of time.” Kindly hands pulled Sabina over the doorstep. “Sit down and take off those muddy boots.” The thin, graying woman pointed to a gleaming deacon’s bench as she closed the door.

Sabina automatically obeyed the brisk command while she attempted to break into the flow of words filling the cozy foyer.

“I was real glad Jonas called about you. Haven’t seen a new face around here since Christmas, when my nephew brought a young lady who didn’t fit
at
all! He said he was thinkin’ of her reputation. Bullfeathers! It was plain as the nose on your face
she
wasn’t worrying none.”

Clara Kincaid stopped for breath, dark eyes snapping, and Sabina seized the opening, although she swallowed laughter at the aspersion cast on the unknown nephew’s friend. “This is really very kind of you, Mrs. Kincaid. I’m sorry to be so late.” She shrugged out of her bulky coat, hanging it on the wooden hanger her hostess produced.

“No problem. I gave up tryin’ to eat early like other folk a long time ago. Daniel fiddles around after basketball practice and Erica’s out takin’ care of everybody’s business but her own.” Her capable hands set the boots aside before Sabina could protest. “Don’t worry about these none. I’ll just clean ‘em up for you when they’re dry. Let me show you your room. You’re real private in back. You can come and go as you please.”

The “room” was actually a small, beautifully designed suite. Sabina glanced around the compact sitting room reached through a discreet door set in the dining room paneling. Mrs. Kincaid’s voice flowed around her. Was her dazed condition the result of exhaustion or the unending chatter of her friendly hostess?

“There’s the bedroom.” She said, pointing at a louvered door. “The bath’s just off it. There’s a no ‘count kitchen, so’s you can fix yourself somethin’ late at night, and I put soft drinks and snacks in that little refrigerator, but you don’t have to cook anythin’. I’ll have meals for you.” She paused, casting a severe glance around the room as if to be sure it was spotless.

Sabina seized the opening. “This is so modern. Did you build this addition so you could take in guests?”

A shadow crossed the older woman’s face. “This was for me, so’s I could be near my son’s family and still come and go like I want to. Zack and Marie died on the Ohio River five years ago come spring. Their boat exploded.”

The remembrance stilled the torrent of speech only momentarily, then she brightened, “Someone had to keep a home for the children, so I just moved upstairs. Seems a shame to let this go to waste, so when there’s a need, I take people in. I like to see new faces now and again, and that motel down the road is downright common.”

Sabina congratulated herself for having landed on her feet. Grinning conspiratorily at her hostess, Sabina answered, “I know. I drove past on the way in. Remind me to thank Jonas.”

“Hmph! Him. He’s gen’rally dumber than most, but at least he had the sense to send you to me. Supper won’t be for an hour or so. The twins aren’t home yet, and my nephew’s goin’ to be late. He always is. He’ll burn himself out tryin’ to do two things at once, but there’s no way out of it.” She turned abruptly and disappeared through the paneled door.

Sabina swooped up her small case and clothing bag and headed for the bathroom. If she found a stall shower she knew she would cry from disappointment.

Half an hour later she emerged, rejuvenated by the jasmine- scented water in the capacious white tub. The dark red bathroom carpet pampered her feet and a radiant heater warmed the air.

Warm, clean and relaxed, Sabina decided her unsettling response to Chad Peters earlier in the day loomed larger in her memory than in reality. The transient nature of her job brought her into contact with virtual strangers every few days. After a night’s sleep she would see him as an ordinary man, and the momentary flutter his coffee-colored gaze gave her nerves could be dismissed as a figment of her imagination.

Sabina luxuriated in the slide of lace-trimmed satin over her skin. She pulled on a softly pleated deep blue wool skirt and matching cashmere sweater over her one feminine vice. If her job required sturdy, practical clothing, she could at least feel a little glamorous underneath it.

As she slipped into narrow matching flats, she reached for her hairbrush to whisk her simple haircut into place. The mirror reminded her that in her preoccupation, she’d forgotten makeup. Shrugging, Sabina did a rush job with blusher and eye shadow.

“That should do it,” she said, grateful her thick lashes passed muster without mascara. She made her way through the small bedroom, stopping only to test the lovely, springy bed with her hand. “I’m going to enjoy you tonight,” she promised.

The thump and beat of rock music assaulted her ears as she entered the main house. She followed its compelling rhythm past the oak table set for five, through an old-fashioned arch, and across the hall, where she stopped abruptly, her hand resting on the polished wood of a second oak-framed arch.

As unnatural poses went, the scene in front of her took the prize. An athletically built blond teenager was bent backwards, her hands clasping her ankles while she balanced on her toes. An equally blond young man sketched rapidly on an artist’s block.

“Hurry up, Daniel. I’m breaking in half, and I’m afraid he’ll catch us,” the girl pleaded.

Sabina knelt beside the absorbed artist and peered over his shoulder. The sheet held four other completed drawings, one of the girl standing on her head and three others in equally gymnastic positions. Each mirrored the strength and grace of her young body with minimal strokes of soft lead. The thick pencil moved as an extension of the boy’s long, blunt-tipped fingers.

The swiftly moving pencil made one last series of shading. “Done, Eric. You’d better comb your hair. When I’m famous I’ll immortalize you in oil . . . only I’ll make you look dignified.” He noticed his audience belatedly. “Excuse me, ma’am. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt genius at work. Those are fantastic drawings. May I look closer?”

He extended them hesitantly. “Sure.” He cast a nervous glance toward the hall before continuing, “You must be the lady from Natural Resources. Gran said you were here. I’m Daniel Kincaid.” He rose to his feet.

“And I’m Erica,” the girl said.

Sabina looked up, her breath catching as she stared at the tall, golden-haired adolescents. “Viking children,” she murmured involuntarily. Daniel’s masculine, high-cheekboned face was feminized in his sister, whose head came nearly to his ear. “I’m Sabina Hanlon. I’m sorry I peered over your shoulder, Daniel, but I was fascinated by how quickly you were working.”

“I’m glad you didn’t interrupt. I was about to die, and I couldn’t have matched the pose later,” Erica responded. “We wanted to get this done before our cousin gets here. He . . . thinks Daniel takes advantage of me, which of course he doesn’t. We’re twins, you know.”

“I’d sort of guessed that,” Sabina said wryly. “I’ve heard it’s impossible for one twin to take advantage of the other.” Erica had been about to say something else, then had substituted what sounded like a lame excuse.

Daniel shifted his feet, as self-conscious as it was possible for close to six and a half feet of muscles to look. “This is an art class project. The Unnatural Human Form. Eric is a perfect model.” He winced as his sister’s elbow connected with his ribs. “I mean, ah, she’s almost double jointed.”

“Good recovery, Daniel,” Erica teased.

Their exchange amused Sabina, who looked more closely at the sketches. “I’d say you’re on your way to an A.” She returned the drawing to him. “You’d better put this someplace safe. I’d hate for your sister to have to go through all that again.”

More relief than seemed necessary swept over the boy’s face as he put the sketches in the window seat. At the sound of the front door opening, Erica murmured, “Just in time.” She rushed past Sabina shrieking, “Chad! You beast, you’ve been back two whole days and haven’t come to see us till now. Why not?”

Sabina turned in time to see the man in the arch brace himself before Erica’s strong young arms engulfed him. Before the head of hair much the color of his own obstructed her view of his face, he smiled broadly. Chad Peters was tall, but this Viking girl cousin was just a few inches shorter. She groaned inwardly as Daniel joined the two, muttering to herself, “I should have known. There couldn’t be many people in a town this small with lion manes like that. What a fun evening
this
will be.”

Three tawny heads turning toward her in unison. She felt left out — not unwelcome, since the twins’ smiles were genuine — but an outsider. Chad Peters’ expression could only be described as wary, but he managed the greeting with grace. “Ms. Hanlon. I didn’t know you were staying here until Aunt Clara told me. I hope you’ll be comfortable.”

It must have been a whale of an appointment, Sabina decided. In his beautifully tailored, charcoal gray suit he looked as if he had just stepped off Wall Street. A conservative burgundy and silver striped tie was half hidden beneath the vest. If he were to model dress shirts, Sabina was sure Chad Peters would cause a run on the market for Arrow. Surprisingly, his GQ appearance helped her deal with the jolt of awareness which swept from her head to her toes. “As comfortable as I
can
 
be, considering that I seem to have taken lodging in the middle of your family.”

“Your image doesn’t live up to your reputation, Ms. Hanlon.”

Sabina nearly flinched under Chad’s quick, assessing glance. She knew without words that he was wondering exactly how old she was. Her friends had urged her to wear more sophisticated clothing and an upscale hair style, but they didn’t match her line of work, and she preferred to let her capability proclaim her maturity.

 “If you mean I don’t look like a Tough Broad, I’ll take that as a compliment.” She met gaze his steadily, allowing a flash of humor to acknowledge his reference. “We have a grapevine on our side of the fence too, Mr. Peters.”

“
She
can’t be the Tough Broad, Chad,” protested Daniel. “She’s just a little thing.” As soon as the words passed his lips, he turned bright scarlet.

His discomfiture was so genuine Sabina grinned at him.

“That `little thing’ left Bobbie Russell limping this morning.”

Her eyes dancing with respect, Erica came over to Sabina with her hand outstretched. “Good for you! He’s a gross letch. Will you tell me later what you did to him?”

Sabina sensed acceptance by at least two of her dinner companions, but, as they crossed the hall to the dining room, she knew she was safer without Chad Peters’s approval. Whatever the man had, he could bottle it, sell it, and make millions. For the first time since her disastrous engagement, she had to remind herself she wasn’t in the market.

The aroma of the food on the heavy oak table distracted her, and she filed away her ridiculous worry about a situation that would never occur.
It just goes to show,
she thought as Daniel held her chair for her,
that I’m more interested in food than in men.

Sabina helped herself to generous portions of baked chicken and golden homemade noodles. As she spooned butternut squash onto her plate, Chad’s soft, “Fresh air and exercise certainly make a person hungry, don’t they?” reached her ears.

Lowering the utensil, she blushed beneath his amused golden appraisal. He grinned before closing his lips over a small wedge of breast meat and winked mischievously.

“Behave yourself, Chad. You can’t tease company like you do family,” declared Clara. “The girl has to keep her strength up if she’s goin’ to tramp all over the county in this weather.” She thumped a serving bowl back in place and changed the subject. “It’s a mercy to see you dressed decent for a change. Last time you came you were mud from head to toe . . . tracked up my kitchen just like you did when you were ten.”

Sabina wondered just what kind of a meeting Chad Peters had attended. His jacket hung carelessly on the back of his chair, along with his tie. The vest and the top button of his shirt were undone. He’d removed heavy gold links before turning up his shirt cuffs, and tawny hair curled along his muscular forearms. He looked gorgeous.

She hoped the heat she felt was generated by her recent intake of calories, but a faint voice in the back of her mind graded the hope a one on a scale of ten.

“Did the board vote that loan for the Mourys’ addition to the restaurant?” Clara’s interruption of Sabina’s unnerving thoughts was welcome.

“Now, Aunt Clara. You know I can’t tell you. Wait for the morning report from the telephone grapevine.” Indulgent amusement laced his voice, but his refusal was definite.

“Well, if the president of the bank can’t tell his own aunt a little thing like that, what’s the world comin’ to? After all, I knew everythin’ about it before the meetin’
.
”

The smile on Chad’s face took Sabina’s breath away. Perhaps it was the genuine love and affection in his expression that gave it such power, but her head reeled. If he ever looked at her like that . . .

“Mary Moury told you the plans. Let her tell you the results. I’m sure she’ll know more details than I can remember about the proceedings . . . even though she wasn’t there.”

The elderly lady gave him a long-suffering look. She was obviously accustomed to being put gently in her place.

Then the full implication of the exchange hit Sabina. She blurted out, “A bank! I thought you operated a mining company!”

Four pairs of eyes focused on her simultaneously, and three voices were overridden by Chad’s. “I
manage
one, Ms. Hanlon. Or at least I will until Daniel takes over his father’s company. My father founded a chain of small banks in this area before he retired, and that’s my primary responsibility. I wear two hats.”

Sabina remembered her resentment at being summarily left with Jonas that afternoon, then made the connection, the reason someone had needed to take over Calico. Aware her clumsy question must have reminded Clara and the twins of their loss, she looked across the table. There was sadness in the twins’ eyes, but the identical gray gazes held something else — something which vanished quickly.