Beneath a Southern Sky (10 page)

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Authors: Deborah Raney

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General

BOOK: Beneath a Southern Sky
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Ten

E
veryone else had gone home for the day, the animals had been fed and watered, and the office was unusually quiet for a change. Daria had made arrangements for her mother to keep Natalie for an extra hour so she could catch up on printing out some billing statements.

The last appointment for the day had been cancelled, and she locked the office doors and hung the
closed
sign in the front window. Cole and Travis were in the barn repairing some cattle chutes, but Daria didn’t expect either of them back in the office.

She flipped the switch to warm up the printer and began to sort through a list of addresses on her computer screen. She had just sent the first batch of files to the printer when a knock on the back door made her jump.

She got up and cautiously peered down the hallway that led to the rear entryway. Through the small high window in the door, she could see Cole waiting for her to let him in. She hurried down the hallway and turned the lock.

“Sorry, Cole, I thought you were done in here for the night.”

“No problem,” he said, tipping his Stetson at her but not taking it off. He stamped his feet and rubbed his hands to warm them. “Is the coffeepot still on?”

“It is, but it’ll be stale as all get out. I can make another pot…” She stood in front of him, twisting the rings on her fingers, hoping her offer hadn’t sounded too—well, too
obvious
.

But he just grinned. “Would you mind? I’d make it myself, but I’d like to be able to actually drink the stuff.”

Daria laughed, but she was surprised that he hadn’t waved off her offer. She had fully expected him to tell her that he’d just stop by Nellie’s Café on the way home, as she knew he often did. “I’ll make it,” she told him. “It won’t take but a minute.”

She went to the counter in the reception room, emptied the old coffee grounds into the wastebasket, rinsed out the pot, and filled it with fresh, cold water from the tap.

Cole leaned on a high stool behind the reception counter. She felt his eyes on her.

“What are you doing here so late?” he wondered.

“Oh, I wanted to finish up this billing,” she said over her shoulder. “Natalie had a doctor’s appointment yesterday, so I took the afternoon off and that put me a little behind.”

“I wondered where you were. Is she sick?”

“Natalie? Oh, no. They put off her vaccinations at her last checkup because she was still getting over a bad cold, so she got a whole bunch of shots yesterday. She was none too happy about that.”

“I bet. Poor baby.”

She wondered why Cole was hanging around the office, yet she felt excited—and nervous—at the chance to be alone with him. As comfortable as they’d become working together, she didn’t think she was imagining the undercurrent between them. With the coffee brewing, she went back to her desk and tried to work on the billing. It wasn’t easy with him perched up there looking over her shoulder.

Cole got up and wandered through the office, and Daria watched him surreptitiously as he straightened papers on desks and read notices on the bulletin board that she knew he’d posted himself. Something was bothering him.

After a few uncomfortable minutes, he cleared his throat. “I’m glad I caught you here, Daria. I wanted to talk to you about something. A couple of things, actually.”

She sent one more file to the printer and wheeled her chair to face him, unable to hide her curiosity.

An odd smile crossed his lips, and she could have sworn that he was feeling nervous too, though it was a side of him she’d certainly never seen before.

She waited.

He laughed softly, lifted his hat, and ran a hand through his hair before putting the Stetson back on his head. “ To tell you the truth, I can’t decide whether to give you a promotion or fire you.”

She swallowed hard and felt her face grow warm. She could hear the printer churning out an invoice behind them, and a dying fluorescent light flickered overhead. “Have I done something wrong, Cole?”

He waved the thought away. “No, no. In fact, Travis and I have been talking. We need to hire another technician. Since he came on staff full time, we’ve been able to take on more work, and well, shoot, you’ve practically been doing a tech’s job anyway. We wanted to officially offer the position to you before we advertise it…if you’re interested?”

She’d known they were understaffed, but she honestly hadn’t seen this coming. “Oh, Cole, I’d like that. I’d like it a lot. But, well, wouldn’t I have to go to school or something?”

“Not unless you want to get licensed. You could always do that down the road, but for now it would just be on-the-job training. Like I said, you’re practically doing a tech’s job now. The only drawback I can see is that you wouldn’t be able to take your work home as much with this position.” He waited for her to respond.

“I think I could handle it now that Natalie’s a little older. But—” She swallowed hard. “What did you mean about firing me?”

He grinned and cleared his throat, dipped his head slightly. “I’ve always made it a point not to date my employees,” he started, then grinned sheepishly. Daria’s heart started to race. “Actually, I’ve made it a point not to date
anyone
. But, to tell you the truth, Daria, you’ve got me rethinking both those points. Would you…” He lifted his Stetson, raked a hand through his hair again, then put the hat back on, suddenly looking like a little boy.

“Are you trying to ask me out, Dr. Hunter?”

“That was the general idea—”

“Yes,” she cut him off, then put a hand to her mouth. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

He burst out laughing—that unfettered, cut-loose laugh of his that she’d grown to love so much.

“We’re talking about the date, right?” he said warily, teasing. “Not the promotion?”

“Well both, actually. Yes to both.” She grinned impishly. “But the enthusiasm was for the date.”

He laughed again, this time with relief, she thought.

“Saturday night? Wichita? Dinner… maybe a movie?”

“Sounds good to me,” she said. “What time?”

He stood and took his hat off, revealing an appealingly matted head of sand-colored “hat” hair. He pointed the Stetson at her and winked. “I’ll pick you up at seven sharp.”

Whistling a lively rendition of “Yankee Doodle,” he headed down the hall, then came back abruptly. “Oh,” he said, sticking his head back around the corner into the office, “and don’t worry about a baby-sitter. I’ve got it covered.”

He was out the door, his truck kicking up gravel in the back drive before Daria could say a word.

Ten minutes later as she gathered up her things to head home, she realized that a fresh pot of coffee—full and untouched—sat on the counter emitting a delicious aroma into the room.

Friday morning, as Daria rushed around trying to get ready for work, the phone rang. She picked it up to find Vera Camfield on the other end.

“Hello, Vera,” she said, trying to put more enthusiasm in her voice than she felt.

“Hello, Daria. How are you?”

“Oh, we’re fine. But I’m kind of having one of those mornings,” she hinted. “Seems like everything that can go wrong has.”

“Well, I won’t keep you then, but I just wanted to see what you were doing this weekend.”

Daria’s mind raced, trying to come up with an excuse to the request she knew was coming. She had kept in close contact with Nate’s parents, especially right after Natalie’s birth, but as the months passed and her job tied her down more, the visits had become fewer and further between. Lately, however, Vera Camfield had become more and more demanding, calling nearly every weekend either wanting her to bring Natalie to Kansas City, or inviting herself and Jack to Bristol. It seemed to Daria that they expected her to reserve every spare moment for them.

“Let me tell you what we were thinking,” Vera said, not waiting for Daria’s reply. “We thought we’d come and take you and Natalie out to dinner tonight, and then we’d like to bring Natalie back here to spend the weekend. Will that work?”

“ To Kansas City? By herself?”

“Well, of course you’re always welcome here, Daria. But now that Natalie is weaned, we just thought you might enjoy some time to yourself.”

It was a generous offer. So why did she feel resentful? She loved Nathan’s parents, and naturally she wanted Natalie to be close to them. She knew that the little girl was as much an antidote to their grief as to her own. Still, Daria wasn’t prepared for what they were asking. The thought of having Natalie three hours away in a strange house, a strange city, unsettled her. She’d never been away from her daughter for more than a few hours. The little girl always seemed to enjoy her time with the Camfields, and there was no question that they adored her. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust them. It was just that Nattie was still a baby. And, at almost eight months, she still wasn’t sleeping through the night. What if she woke up in a strange bed and became scared? What if she got sick? Would they know what to do?

Vera’s voice broke in on her thoughts. “We’ll bring her back Sunday, right after lunch. It shouldn’t be past four-thirty, five at the very latest. Please, Daria. We need to spend time with her. She’s just growing up so fast. Every time we see her, she’s changed so much.”

How could she tell them no now, when she was going to be out with Cole all evening Saturday anyway? She couldn’t very well tell them that she was denying them their granddaughter so Natalie could spend the time with a baby-sitter. Guilt washed over her, and she debated whether she dared tell Vera that she had a date. This was turning out to be so much more complicated than she’d anticipated.

Cole had arranged for Jennifer Daly to baby-sit Natalie at Daria’s apartment. “That way, she can be all tucked in for the night when you get home, and I’ll drop Jennifer off on my way home,” he told her.

Daria was grateful for his plan. Besides the fact that it was thoughtful of him, it would also eliminate that awkward moment when she would wonder whether she should invite him in for coffee afterward.

Vera’s insistent pleas tugged her back to the present. “Please, Daria. If you don’t have any plans, I don’t really see how you can deny us the privilege of spending some time with our only connection to Nathan.” Though Daria knew the emotion that came over the line now was genuine, it rankled her that Vera would use it against her this way. She was glad Vera couldn’t see her clenched jaw, couldn’t hear her slap her fist on the desk in frustration.

“All right, Vera,” she said finally. “I-I guess we can try it this once. But Natalie still wakes up at least once in the night, you know.”

Vera’s tears turned almost instantly to glee. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I haven’t been sleeping well myself. We’ll just be up together. We’ll get along fine.”

Vera insisted that she and Jack take Daria and Natalie out to supper as soon as Daria got off work that evening. “We’ll probably just leave from the restaurant though,” Vera informed her, “so could you have her things packed and ready to go?”

“Okay, sure,” she answered, feeling somehow defeated.

Daria hung up and rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers, wondering what she had done. She was angry with herself, for she knew her main reason for giving in to Vera was because she did not want to have to confess that she had a date Saturday night.

She dialed the clinic to let Carla know she was running late, then she called Jennifer to tell her that she was off the hook for Saturday night.

She wove her hair into a quick braid, hurriedly brushed her teeth, grabbed Natalie from her playpen, and bundled her up. By the time she arrived at the clinic her head was throbbing.

Dinner with the Camfields that evening went fine until Jack asked innocently, “So, what are you going to do with a weekend all to yourself, Daria?”

She drained an invisible swig from her empty water glass, desperately trying to think of an answer. She decided on honesty but took her time getting there.

“Well, I don’t mind telling you I’m looking forward to sleeping a whole night without this little squirt waking me up.” She threw a smile Natalie’s way. “Then tomorrow morning I’ll clean the apartment and then”—she put the empty glass to her lips again—“well, tomorrow evening I’m invited to dinner with Dr. Hunter.”

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