COWBOY FOR SALE--A Second-Chances Spicy Romance (32 page)

“If my big belly will even fit in the aisles, you can help me shelve returns.”

“You’re not that big--

“Ha! This morning I couldn’t even tie my sneakers. Martha just laughed when I came in, said she was fine with my new stylin’ footwear for the next couple of weeks.”

Cory glanced to the floor beneath Sara’s very pregnant stomach to see she was wearing slip-on beach sandals instead of her usual Nikes. “But isn’t today your last day?”

“I think I’d go crazy at home so I’m figuring I’ll keep working until the contractions start. I think I’m good for another week at least. Martha was rather pleased, I think. She’s not looking forward to training a temp. You know how she is about change.”

“Well, let me at least push the cart.” Cory pulled the book cart away from Sara and turned it around.

Sara sighed, then dropped her hands to rub her stomach. “I’m babysitting, so it’s probably good that we reschedule our lunch anyway.” She tipped her head at a boy who sat several yards away in one of the overstuffed leather chairs that formed a semi-circle on a large, colorful oriental rug in the reading corner.

“That’s Mitch,” Sara said. “Ted’s nephew.” They both watched him turn a page in the book he was holding, then lift his head. He smiled a happy grin and lifted a hand to wave. Sara returned the wave. “We’re watching him for a few days while his mom’s at Mayo Clinic for tests. He’s such a great kid.” She sighed, shaking her head.

“Sounds serious. Does he know his mom’s sick?”

“I don’t think so, and I don’t feel comfortable intervening. Ted’s family is a lot more stoic and close-mouthed about everything than my wild and crazy family--we’re such opposites.”

“--that attract,” Cory added.

Sara smiled and nodded. “Some days, Cory Wells, I blame you for introducing us, but mostly I thank my lucky stars I ended up with one of the good ones.” She patted her round belly and a satisfied sigh escaped her lips.

Cory pushed the cart forward as Sara shuffled toward the children’s department.

“Hey, are you working on any matches since Tillie’s gone?”

“Not really. I keep thinking about Mr. Foster and Ellie, from The Java Hut, though.”

“Might be interesting. He’s been alone a long time, hasn’t he?”

“Yah--and I haven’t done any investigating yet. I figure I’ll get through the house-thing first and then hang out my matchmaker shingle and try to fill Tillie’s shoes.”

With great difficulty Sara lowered herself onto a pint-sized wooden stool in front of the low bookshelf. “Hand me those books and I’ll sit while I shelve them.” She extended a hand for Cory to pass her the books, then said, “Okay, spill it. Why are you breaking our lunch date?”

Cory handed her a small stack and took a deep, fortifying breath. “Last night, Tillie’s great-nephew showed up at the house, and this morning we met at Al’s so he could explain what I was doing there.”

“Did you know he was coming?”

“Of course not. I didn’t even know Jake and Tillie were related.”

“You know this guy?”

“His name is Jake Randall and he went to high school with us, actually. I don’t think you two ever really knew each other, though.”

“Wait a minute,” Sara said as she twisted on the stool to stare up at her. “Did you know him...or
know
him?”

Cory hesitated. She hadn’t talked about Jake to Sara and now she wondered why. When she’d discovered Sara and Ted had come back to Faythe after college and had married, she’d been eager to get reacquainted. She’d been more than pleased about what good friends they’d become--they hadn’t hung out much together in high school since Sara had been a year behind her.

Since Cory had been back in Faythe, she and Sara had been meeting almost weekly for lunch, and their time together had become a wonderful ritual of sharing and comparing what had happened since high school, as well as talk about what the future held.

“Cory?”

She cleared her throat before she answered. “We sort of dated. Well, we never really went
out
, I guess...we were just sort of a couple who hung out together.”

“Judging by your suddenly shy and pathetic tone, sounds like you never got over this guy.”

“That’s really ridiculous, Sara. I haven’t seen him since graduation. He left. It was over. That was it.”

Sara held her gaze. “It’s obvious there’s more. C’mon Cory. It’s me. What happened between you two?”

“I thought I was in love with him...probably puppy love...oh, I don’t know.” She felt the frustration inside her instantly rise to flood level. “We got so close during that last year, but he was still so secretive about everything. I never could figure out if he was hiding something from me, or if maybe he was hiding me from something or someone.”

“So why did he leave?”

“No clue. The night before graduation, we met in the woods by the school and he just said he had to leave town. I felt like a fool because I thought I’d meant more to him. That summer I rationalized what I had been feeling was probably just wishful thinking. All the girls were after him, but it was me he seemed to choose to spend time with. He made me feel special...I figured I’d probably read more into it than was really there.”

Sara reached a hand toward her and patted her knee. “I’m sorry. Sounds like you were going through a lot--I wish we’d known each other better then.”

“Me too.”

“So, did Al explain what was going on?”

“Yes, but there was an addendum to Tillie’s will.”

“Because of him showing up?”

Cory nodded and handed Sara the last of the children’s books.

“Pull me and this baby up, or I’m never moving again as long as I live.”

Cory grinned and helped Sara to her feet. She pushed the cart and followed her toward the juvenile section.

“You should read this one if you haven’t,” Sara said, handing Cory the book instead of shelving it. “
Holes
.
Louis Sachar tells a great story; really well-wrapped-up details blending the past with the present. You’ll like it.”

Cory tucked the book under her arm and handed Sara a stack. “According to the will, Jake has to live in the house for three months and help with repairs and renovations in order to earn his half of the value of Tillie’s estate after it’s sold.”

“And if he chooses not to?”

“Well, actually, then the whole house goes to me.”

Sara looked at her, her almond-shaped eyes widening, her dark eyebrows raising so they disappeared behind her straight black bangs. “You’re kidding. Jeez, Cory, you could easily stay here then. You could even do the Bed and Breakfast idea--people would go nuts about Tillie’s place, especially once you’re done furnishing it and decorating. That’s great news, huh?”

“But he’s staying.”

“With you...in the house.”

“So it seems.”

“Well, that makes things pretty interesting. Well, back to square one. You still should be able to buy something small with your half, so nothing’s really changed. So he can just be away from his job for three months while he plays handyman?”

Cory shrugged. She didn’t even know what Jake did for a living, but he hadn’t raised any strong objections. She followed Sara into adult fiction with the last of the returned books.

Sara faced her and said, “So, you’ll just finish out your four months. Seems simple enough to me. What’s he look like, by the way. I still can’t get a picture in my head of him from high school.” She kept her voice neutral, but her left eyebrow rose a fraction.

Cory wrinkled her nose back at her.

“I’m just curious, that’s all. C’mon, humor the nine-months-pregnant lady whose hormones are raging out of control.”

Cory let out an exasperated breath. “Short hair. Clean-shaven. Trendy dresser.”

“That’s it? A little light on the details, Cory. Sounds like I need to meet him and see for myself.”

“What you need to do is spend more time thinking about putting your feet up and keeping your stress level down. I’m sure he and I can manage to cohabitate in that big house without running into each other that much.

“Yeah, right.” Sara handed Cory the last two books that remained on the cart. “Have you read these latest ones by Susan Wiggs and Mary Leo? Maybe you better take a good romance to bed with you at night to keep yourself distracted from the hunk in the next room.”

Cory took the two books and forced a glare at her well-meaning friend. “Leave it alone, Sara.”

“Okay, okay. Well, I’ll give you a rain check on lunch until next week. We’ll recap where we both are with contacting hospitals and clinics--did you get those letters out?”

Cory nodded.

“Good. By the time my maternity leave’s over, maybe we’ll start seeing some supplies trickling in. Okay--you’re off the hook for now, Cory, but I’ll be expecting all the scoop about Jake next week. Deal?”

“Deal.”

***

Jake glanced at his watch as he walked up the steps of Tillie’s house and onto the big front porch. He was early, kicking himself that he hadn’t thought to ask Cory for the key to the house when they were at the attorney’s.

He lowered himself into the same ladder-back chair she’d brought to the cat-rescue. Settling in, he tapped his foot as he scanned the porch and the front of the house. Some of the paint was flaking pretty badly on the trim around the windows and doors, and he wondered if he’d need to scrape it down to bare wood before repainting it. The wood on the porch seemed solid enough, but there were a few loose boards that would need some stabilizing.

He straightened the doormat with one toe and stared at it. Tillie had always left a spare key there when he was young. Could she have retained the habit after all these years?

Bending over, he lifted one corner of the braided rag rug and spied a tarnished brass key almost buried in a little pile of dirt.

Yes.

He pulled out the key and put it in the lock and turned it. Grabbing his suitcase, he let himself in, quickly pulling the door closed behind him in case Max was standing by to try another escape.

The aroma of the house was the same as he remembered; lemony from years of polishing all the furniture and the thick banister on the staircase. He also noticed that old-house musty smell that was more a comfort than an irritant, and there still was a hint of his great-aunt’s signature rosy scent in the air.

Jake turned as he heard footsteps on the porch and before he could move out of the way, Cory opened the door and walked directly into him.

They froze in the awkward embrace--his arm around her and clutching her waist, the palm of her hand flat on his chest--balancing precariously against each other.

“How’d you get in?” she asked, her voice breathless.

“Key was under the mat,” he said, finally releasing her so she could get her feet under her.

“Oh. Good.” She kicked the door closed behind her, then set her bulging tote bag on the drum table and hung her straw hat on one of the hooks of the massive oak hall tree. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Nope. Just let myself in a minute ago.”

“So, you have your things with you, I see.” She pointed at the suitcase on the floor.

“Well, I have two weeks’ worth of things, anyway. That’s how long I thought I was staying.”

He watched as she licked her lips and took in a short breath.

“I’m already set up in Tillie’s bedroom, but if you’d prefer--”

“The guest room next to it is fine.”

She nodded. “I’ll let you get settled, then. Would you like some lunch? I was going to make myself a sandwich.”

“That would be great. I’ll show myself upstairs and be right down. We can...talk about how things are going to be.”

“Right.”

He watched as she turned away and walked down the hall. Her hips swayed and he had no recollection of all the nice curves her snug dress revealed, finally realizing her body had matured since he’d last been with her. She turned in the last doorway on the right, into the kitchen and out of sight. Jake felt like he’d stepped back in time, a boy in a man’s body, and he was embarrassed he had stared at her so intently. His fingers flexed, remembering the feel of her waist, curious about the rest of her. The girl he had known had definitely grown up.

Before making his way upstairs, he ducked his head into the parlor. Tillie kept it in a true Victorian style, a sitting room for company only and not everyday use. It looked much the same as he recalled, though there were some antiques he didn’t recognize, and the mantel above the small fireplace was overflowing with various picture frames of couples, some women in wedding dresses. He’d remembered there were always some pictures there, but now there wasn’t an inch of free space on the dark wooden surface.

Meow.

Jake turned toward the windowsill where, gazing intently at him, sat a very proper-looking black and white cat. He walked up to it and ran his hand down the cat’s spine, wondering exactly how many cats Tillie had managed to acquire.