Cold feet (23 page)

"That's probably why she wasn't willing to sell the house before now. Living with what's familiar, even if it's not good, is sometimes easier than taking a risk on the unknown."

Caleb cast Madison a meaningful look. "Seems I know someone else who's struggling with that."

"I'm just being cautious," she said. "It's not the same."

"Whatever you say." He turned his attention back to the road until they reached Deception Pass, the bridge that linked the two islands. Then they started winding around to the north side of Fidalgo Island, and he looked over at her again. "So why aren't you going to sleep with me tonight?"

"I thought you were thinking about other things," she said curtly.

He chuckled. "You've piqued my curiosity."

"Sleeping with you confuses me. I'm not planning to let myself get attached. And I don't do casual sex."

"Judging by last night, there wouldn't be anything casual about it."

And that would be the real reason.
"Will I meet your sister today?" she asked, steering the conversation back to safe ground.

"I'm sure there won't be any way to avoid it. She lives next door."

Madison couldn't help laughing. "Tell me what she's like as an adult."

"Not much different than she was as a kid. She's still looking for a chance to run my life. My mother lovingly calls her a 'mother hen' but, believe me, Tamara takes the concept to new heights."

"Does she know how you feel about her?"

"No. And she wouldn't believe me even if I told her. That's one thing I
do
like about my sister. She's sort of indestructible."

Madison gazed out the window at Fidalgo Bay and a small cluster of fishing boats off in the distance. "It's pretty here."

"I've always liked it," he said as they stopped at a red light. They were approaching the small, quaint city of Anacortes.

"Then why did you leave?"

He turned from Commercial onto 12th Street. After a few blocks, Madison saw old, well-maintained homes on the left and Guemes Channel on the right. "I needed some space."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

C
ALEB'S PARENTS' HOUSE
was a large white Victorian facing Guemes Channel. Madison loved it at first sight, especially the wraparound porch and the gingerbread that dripped from the eaves. As she got out of Caleb's car, she could see an arbor with climbing roses to the left. Stepping-stones led through it to what promised to be a very natural, beautiful yard.

"
This
is where you grew up?" she asked.

He waited for her to join him at the head of a redbrick walkway. "Yes. And if it looks like the kind of place where the children of the house would be forced to take piano lessons, it was."

Madison glanced at his hands, which were large and devoid of any jewelry. They didn't look like a musician's hands; they looked a lot more solid--like a quarterback's hands. "You can play the piano?"

"I didn't say I could play, only that I was forced to take lessons."

"For how long?"

"Five years. And they were the longest five years of my life. I'd have to sit and practice for forty-five minutes a day while all my buddies were out playing baseball. I hated it."

"How terrible to be so unloved," she said with a mocking smile.

He returned her grin. "I knew you'd understand."

"Just tell me one thing," she said. "How could you
not
learn to play in five years?"

His expression turned sheepish. "Unfortunately, I can be as stubborn as my mother. After all that time, my crowning achievement was a rather mediocre rendition of
Swan Lake.
I still have it memorized."

"What an accomplishment. You'll have to play it for me later."

"I don't think so. For me, that's sort of the equivalent of serenading you outside your window."

Madison feigned disappointment. "That isn't going to happen, either?"

"How'd you guess?"

She didn't have a chance to respond. A thin woman with beautiful white hair swept up with a gold clip had come to the door and was watching their advance. She smiled as soon as Madison looked at her, and Madison could immediately see the similarities between Caleb's facial features and those of his mother. She had the same sharp cheekbones, the same kind but shrewd eyes, the same generous mouth.

Madison particularly appreciated Caleb's mouth....

"Mom, this is Madison Lieberman," he said, embracing his mother as they stepped onto the porch. "Madison, this is Justine, the woman who scarred me with those piano lessons I was telling you about."

Justine rolled her eyes and took hold of Madison's hands. "Don't listen to that ungrateful boy. We're so glad you could come."

Her grip was warm and reassuring, her smile just short of radiant. She struck Madison as self-possessed and dignified. "I'm glad to be here." Caleb brushed past them and strolled inside.

"Then come in," Justine said. "My husband is just getting cleaned up. He's been working in the back all day, trying to get the weeds pulled, but we'll have dinner soon. I hope you like salmon."

"That's my favorite fish." Madison followed her hostess into a house that smelled of broiled fish, mushrooms, onions and furniture polish--to find Caleb coming out of the kitchen with his mouth full.

"What are you eating?" his mother demanded. "You haven't been here ten seconds."

Caleb didn't look the least bit abashed. "Want a crescent roll?" he asked Madison, offering her the rest of what he'd momentarily tried to hide behind his back.

"No, thanks," she said, laughing. "I'll wait."

"Where are your manners?" Justine asked him, shaking her head. "We're waiting for Tamara and the kids."

"What'd I tell you?" Caleb said to Madison, finishing off his roll.

His mother's eyebrows lifted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he said.

Madison could tell his mom knew better. "Tamara has always loved and pampered you," she insisted.

"When she wasn't getting me grounded for ditching school," he muttered.

Justine sighed and jerked her head toward Caleb. "It took all of us to manage this one."

"I can imagine," Madison said.

"But please don't assume that anything he does reflects on me," Justine replied drolly, leading her into a sitting room with wide front windows and an antique settee.

A knock at the door preceded two calls of "Grandma, we're here!" Then the screen door slammed shut. Little feet pounded down the hallway, and identical twin boys who seemed about eight years old came skidding around the corner, crying, "Uncle Caleb!"

Madison thought they were bent on tackling Caleb right there in front of the Russian tea set and lace draperies. But Caleb tossed the first boy over his shoulder and got the other in a headlock. "Well, if it isn't trouble," he said.

Turning so that Madison could see the boy dangling halfway down his back, he said, "This is my nephew Jacob."

Jacob didn't bother looking up at her. He was half-heartedly trying to free himself from his uncle's grasp. Like his brother, he was on the thin, gangly side and had the usual jumble of large and small teeth so characteristic of the age. But Madison suspected they'd grow up to be almost as handsome as their uncle.

Almost. Madison was beginning to believe no one was or ever would be as handsome as Caleb.

"And--" Caleb brought the red-faced boy in the headlock around "--this is Joey."

"I'm not Joey," the boy complained. The other was laughing too hard to care whether or not his uncle had gotten his name wrong.

"Don't believe 'em," Caleb warned in a conspiratorial whisper. "They love to screw with your mind."

Madison had the impression that it was Caleb who was trying to confuse her. "Hi, Joey," she said to the one he'd introduced as Jacob.

"She got you, Uncle Caleb," Joey squealed.

"So there's my long-lost brother," a tall, large-boned woman interrupted from the doorway. With her facial structure, dark hair and dark eyes, Madison knew it could only be Tamara. But the features that served Caleb so well looked too exaggerated for real beauty on his sister. "He's living in town now, but does he ever spend any time with us?" she asked facetiously. "Nooo. Does he ever come by? Nooo. Not unless he needs something."

Caleb gave her a grudging smile. "And here we have the woman responsible for having my new bicycle impounded just two days after my thirteenth birthday."

"You were riding in the street without using your handlebars," she said as primly as a schoolteacher.

"A crime if ever I heard one," Caleb responded.

"She won't let us ride without handlebars, either," one of the twins complained. "We lost our bikes for a whole month just for riding without helmets. And she still won't let us have skateboards. We're the only two kids in the whole school who don't have skateboards."

"Skateboards are dangerous," Tamara said.

"You're the
only
ones? I doubt it," Caleb said, surprising Madison by supporting his sister. He set Tamara's children down and hugged her, and Madison sensed that he didn't dislike her half as much as he pretended to. "Where's Mac?"

"He's running late," she said. "You know how he is, always on the phone. Most wives worry about losing their husbands to another woman. I've already lost mine to computers and cell phones." She glanced at Madison. "Is this your new lady friend?"

Madison stood and smiled. "I'm Madison Lieberman."

"I'm glad he's finally decided to bring home someone besides that crackpot he married," Tamara said. "After this past week I thought he was moving on to marriage and divorce number three." She flipped her long brown hair out of her eyes. "Holly's come by here twice over the last couple of days, Caleb."

"Tamara, let's not discuss Holly in front of Madison, please," Justine said. "And unless you can say something nice, don't talk about her at all."

"I can't help it if the truth hurts," Tamara muttered as an older, raw-boned man entered the room.

"Ah, there you are, dear," Justine said, and introduced Madison to Caleb's father, Logan.

Logan shook her hand, but was far more reserved in his greeting than Justine had been. From beneath the ledge of a prominent brow, his eyes seemed to look right through her, and the lines on his forehead indicated that his intense expression was habitual. She decided it probably took a great deal to impress this man--or figure in his affections at all.

"You're Purcell's daughter, eh?" He rubbed his chin with a large callused hand, making a scratching sound.

She nodded, feeling a bit apprehensive about what he might ask her next. But when Justine took his hand, his face immediately mellowed. "That whole thing couldn't have been easy on you," he said. "We're happy to have you here."

Madison was pretty sure Justine was behind that sentiment. But Madison muttered the same polite remarks she'd been saying since she'd arrived, then had to repeat them one more time when Tamara's husband, Mac, finally showed up. Mac had just started to say, "Nice to meet you," when his cell phone rang, and he stepped out to take the call.

"See what I mean?" Tamara complained.

Caleb gave one of the twins a raspberry on the head. "What's this I hear about you having a girlfriend?"

"I don't have a girlfriend," the boy argued. "Joey's the one who has a girlfriend. He likes Sarah."

"I don't like Sarah!" Joey cried.

"Then why do you always give her your chocolate milk at lunch?" he challenged.

"Because I don't want it."

"Right," Jacob said. "I ask you for it every day, and you won't give it to me."

"That's because you're my stupid brother."

"Everyone knows you like her."

Joey's face went even redder than when Caleb had held him in that headlock. "Only because you told them."

"Did not."

"Did, too."

"Hey, what's wrong with liking a girl?" Caleb broke in, putting an arm around both children's waists and dragging them up against him. "Occasionally you meet one who's not half-bad," he added, winking at Madison.

"They just...they can't even play tetherball," Jacob said with disdain. "They spend their whole recess walking around the playground
talking.
"

"So? Talking's bad?" Joey said.

"It's boring," Jacob retorted.

Justine gestured them to silence. "That's enough, boys. Your uncle Caleb tells me that Madison has a daughter who's just a bit younger than the two of you. I was sad that she couldn't make it tonight, but now I'm beginning to wonder if she isn't better off."

"You don't have to worry about Brianna," Caleb said, with what sounded suspiciously like pride. "She's tough. She could take these two, no problem. One look down her dainty little nose, and they'd be knocking themselves out trying to please her."

Madison thought of her daughter opening the door to Caleb that first morning and saying, "Oh, it's you," and nearly laughed. Her daughter
was
tough. She'd faced down an adult and let him know, in no uncertain terms, that she didn't approve. Of course, Caleb had won her over pretty easily since then. But Madison had difficulty believing any female could withstand his charm for long.

"If she's anything like her mother, she's probably darling," Justine said.

Madison felt a blush of pleasure at the compliment, but she liked Caleb's mother for more than her impeccable manners. She liked the air of authority Justine carried, and the high place she held in her family's esteem. Madison wished her own family hadn't been torn apart, especially in such an unusual way. The suspicion surrounding her father had separated her from almost everyone else, even friends of hers who'd suffered through calamities such as divorce, abuse or the death of a loved one.

"I'm ready for dinner. Can we eat?" Tamara said.

"Shouldn't we wait for Mac?" Justine asked.

"We can't do that or we'll all starve," her daughter replied.

T
HROUGH THE FIRST PART
of dinner, Madison felt Caleb's eyes on her often and glanced up to see him smile. She loved that smile, even though it seemed to make a mockery of her puny attempts to hang on to her heart.