Homeplace (27 page)

“A winery?” Gwen asked on a sniffle. She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand.

“One that’s becoming more successful every years,” Savannah said. “I’ve no doubt that someday they could be rich. But right now, they’re merely comfortable.”

“Comfortable’s okay.” Gwen sniffled again, then wiped her nose on the Kleenex Lilith silently handed her. “Do they live at the winery?”

“Right on the grounds, in a wonderful old turn-of-the-century home that they’re restoring.” Savannah’s smile was warm and reminiscent. “The nursery was the first room they completed. It’s been sitting empty for the past five years.”

“Five years is a long time to wait for a baby.” Gwen looked thoughtful. And, Raine thought she could see the worry lift. Just a bit.

“Yes,” Savannah agreed quietly. “It is.”

“Do you think they might want my baby?”

“I know they’d love it as if it were their own natural-born child. Perhaps even more,” Savannah said, glancing over toward Jack in a way that suggested she was remembering Amy’s declaration at the party.

Gwen blew her nose. A more normal color was returning to her complexion. “Do you think I could meet them?”

“Absolutely. Whenever you like.”

“Maybe you can call them now?”

“I’ll do that. But I won’t make the appointment until the weekend. That way you won’t have to miss finals. And you’ll have more time to think things over. To make certain this is really what you want to do.

“Not that agreeing to meet with Terri and Bill means that you’d be agreeing to let them adopt your baby,” Savannah hastened to assure the teenager. “We’ll just consider it a getting-acquainted meeting.”

“Okay.” Gwen’s relief was more-than-a-little obvious. She turned to Lilith. “Will you come? To help ask the questions, like you did before?”

Although her eyes were still swimming, Lilith’s smile only wobbled slightly. “Of course, darling. I’d love to.”

Gwen turned to Raine. “Will you come, too?”

“Oh, Gwen, I’m afraid I can’t draw up any papers—”

“No. Not as a lawyer. As family.”

Family
. Raine reminded herself of all the years she’d spent wishing for a traditional, Ozzie-and-Harriet family. What she’d belatedly discovered might not fit the two-parent, two-point-five-children model, but somehow, when she hadn’t been looking, it appeared she’d landed smack into the middle of one.

“I’ll be there. And I’ll stay here until your baby’s born.”

While the others, including, Raine noticed, Cooper Ryan, followed Savannah back into the kitchen to be present for the important call, Raine wandered back out onto the front porch with Jack.

“That was a nice thing to do,” he said.

“I didn’t have a choice.” It was a foolish thing, perhaps, but she was inordinately pleased by his compliment.

He cupped her face with his hand and gave her a long look. “That’s not exactly true,” he said eventually, “Between Savannah and Dan, Gwen’s in good hands. Even before you factor in Ida’s common sense and Lilith’s empathy. I’m not the least bit surprised by your decision, but I’ll bet dollars to dentures that you are, just a little.”

Hearing him repeat one of Ida’s malapropisms made her smile at the same time the light touch of his fingertips on her cheek caused a renewed rise of desire. Had it only been desire, Raine figured she could have handled it. After having experienced Jack’s exquisite lovemaking, it would only be natural to want more. Any woman would. It was the realization that she needed him, needed him in ways that had nothing to do with sex, that had her shaken.

“Perhaps, just a little,” she admitted in a voice she wished was stronger.

His fingertips skimmed up her cheek and into her hair. “You just need to spend a little more time getting in touch with your inner Raine.”

His lips were smiling; his eyes were smoldering in a way that created a spike in her hormones. Since looking into those eyes had her wanting to pull him down onto the swing, Raine concentrated on his lips. Which proved a big mistake when she could recall their taste in exact, glorious detail.

“Perhaps I do.” Her legs were turning as shaky as her voice. “Are you offering to help?”

“Absolutely.” When his mouth covered hers, Raine could feel his smile broaden. As she twined her arms around his neck and went up on her toes to kiss him back, Raine’s answering smile broke free.

“H
ow would you like to have dinner at the farm?” Jack asked after the blissful kiss finally ended.

“I’d love to have dinner with you.” After this afternoon, Raine saw no point in being coy. Besides, she wanted to spend as much time as she could with Jack before she went back to New York. “But what about Amy?”

“Well, that’s kind of the thing.” He rubbed his cheek. “I’ve pulled a couple nights I don’t usually do the past couple weeks, and I’d just as soon not leave her alone again tonight. I was thinking that if you don’t mind the drive and you’re willing to trust my cooking, we could have dinner at the farm.”

“I like spaghetti,” she said, recalling an earlier invitation she’d turned down.

“Hey, I can cook more than that. In fact, I’m also a whiz at steaks, lasagna, and grilled salmon.”

“Ah, yes. You mentioned something about grilled fish in your little survival fantasy.”

“Our
lovemaking
fantasy,” he corrected.

“Lovemaking? I don’t remember anything about that. In the fantasy I heard, you were sharpening sticks and building log cabins with your Swiss Army chain saw while I made beds and sewed skirts.”

“The skirts were your idea,” he reminded her. “And didn’t I mention the lovemaking part?”

“No.”

“Damn. And that’s the best part.” He looped his arms around her waist and pulled her toward him. “After dinner, I take that skirt off you, leaf by leaf—”

“Sounds a lot like peeling an artichoke.”

He shook his head. “Anyone ever tell you that you can—at times—be a bit too literal?”

“I’m an attorney. It goes with the territory.”

“With you, perhaps. Most lawyers I’ve met tend to be verbally creative types. Creative with the truth, anyway.”

“Truth is a bit like beauty. It’s in the eye of the beholder.”

“Objection sustained.” He drew her a little closer. “And speaking of beauty, I strip those banana leaves off you, one at a time—”

“Banana leaves? I thought this fantasy took place here on the peninsula.”

“There you go, getting bogged down in details again. Besides, Coldwater Cove is in the Pacific Northwest’s banana belt.”

“A banana belt, like beauty and truth, is relative. We happen to be across the Strait of Juan de Fuca from Canada. That’s not exactly the tropics. We grow Douglas firs here. Not bananas.”

“Yeah, but you ever try to wear a skirt made out of prickly fir needles?”

Raine shook her head. “This is ridiculous. And irrelevant. Salmon sounds terrific. Lasagna is great. Heck, I’ll even settle for a peanut butter sandwich.”

“Peanut butter was one of my specialties even before I had a six-year-old.” He lowered his head and kissed her. Lightly, quickly. The kiss caused Raine’s heart to turn cartwheels even as it left her wanting more. Much, much more. “Is that the only reason you’re taking me up on my invitation?”

On some level, she knew that at least waffling a bit would be prudent. But Raine couldn’t lie. Not after their brief discussion of truth, not about this. Not when her heart was still spinning. And her body felt all tingly. She smiled faintly when she remembered reading that people who were about to be struck by lightning felt the same sort of beneath-the-skin sensation.

Too late
. The little voice of reason she’d steadfastly ignored earlier managed to make itself heard in the far reaches of her mind.
You’ve already been struck
.

“No,” she said, smiling up at Jack, wondering if he could read her foolish, reckless heart in her eyes and oddly not caring if he could. “I’m not going to feel guilty about taking time away from work, because I’ve earned it. But I will have to go back to New York as soon as Gwen’s had her baby. Meanwhile”—she framed his face with her hands—“what time do you want me?”

“Anytime. All the time.”

How was it that those few little words could send her heart into another series of somersaults? “I meant what time you wanted me at the farm.”

“Anytime,” he repeated. “You’re the one having to do the driving, which I’m sorry about—”

“That’s okay. The drive to the farm should be especially lovely this time of evening. I’ll start out in about an hour. That way you can have some private time with your daughter.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He kissed her again. Neither of them saw the family, standing at the front parlor window, barely concealed by the white lace curtains.

“I knew it,” Ida crowed. “There’ll be a summer wedding or I’ll eat my shoes.”

“Some kisses don’t necessarily make a marriage,” Savannah said.

“True,” Lilith agreed. “But their auras are nearly blinding, they’re so bright. It’s obvious that Raine and the sheriff are destined to be with one another.”

“You don’t have to see auras or any of that other New Age folderol to see that they’re in love,” Ida said. “If that kiss got any hotter, they’d be setting the porch on fire.”

“I don’t think we should be watching,” Gwen murmured.

“If you’re that uncomfortable, dear, why don’t you just go on upstairs,” Lilith suggested.

“And miss this?” Gwen pressed her nose against the glass. “It’ll be so neat.”

“What darling?” Lilith asked absently.

“Raine and Jack getting married. It’ll be fun having Amy for a sister. And boy, we could really use a man in this family.”

“Women need men like fish need rollerskates,” Ida stated her oft-repeated opinion firmly.

“Speak for yourself, Mother,” Lilith drawled as she exchanged a warm smile with Cooper, who’d chosen to stay across the room. “I think Jack O’Halloran is going to be a marvelous addition to our little family.”

Gwen murmured instantaneous agreement. Ida didn’t respond. But, uncharacteristically, she didn’t argue, either.

Jack had already put the lasagna in the oven by the time Raine arrived at the farm. The rich aromas of basil, oregano, and tomato sauce filled the air.

“If that tastes half as good as it smells,” she said as she shrugged out of the jacket she’d worn in deference to the cool evening air, “you could quit the cop job and go into the inn and restaurant business with Savannah.”

“Guests might get a little bit tired of four things on the menu.” Jack hung the jacket on the antique coatrack.

“Five.” She smiled. “Don’t forget the peanut butter.”

“I think I’d better stick to the things I do well.” He skimmed an appreciative gaze over her. “You look so lovely.”

“Oh, you definitely do that well.” Raine felt the color rise in her cheeks again and thought that she hadn’t blushed as much in her entire life as she had since returning home. “The sweater is Lilith’s. I was afraid cashmere might be a little much for a dinner at home, but—”

“It’s perfect.” The soft ivory-hued sweater’s neckline cut across her collarbone in a way that encouraged it to slide off a shoulder, as it was now. Drawn by the fragrance, Jack skimmed first his fingertip, then his lips over the bared skin that was gleaming like porcelain in the spreading glow of the overhead light fixture. “And, in case I get hungry while I’m waiting for the lasagna to heat up, I can always nibble on you.”

“Surely you wouldn’t want to set a bad example for Amy.”

“That’s something we need to talk about. I tried to call you and see if you wanted to cancel, but you’d already left the house and—”

“Cancel? Why would I want to do that?” She’d no sooner said the words when an unpalatable thought occurred to her. “If she doesn’t want me to be here—”

“No.” It was his turn to interrupt. “Of course she wants you. Hell, if you’d come planning to set up housekeeping, she’d be tickled pink. The problem is, she’s sick.”

“Oh, no.” She experienced a sharp, unbidden need to run upstairs and check on the little girl herself. “I hope it’s nothing serious. Has she seen a doctor?”

“No, it’s not serious, and I called the doctor as soon as I picked her up at Mom’s. It’s just one of those stomach virus things that all the kids in her class apparently have come down with. It’s not bad. But, it’s not real pretty, either. In fact, if Hollywood decides to remake
The Exorcist
, Ariel’ll be a shoe-in for the role of the pea soup kid.”

“Oh, the poor thing.” Something else he said belatedly sunk in. “Ariel?”

“She woke up this morning and informed all of us—me, my mom, her teacher, the other kids at school—that we’re supposed to call her Ariel. I’m hoping this will be a short-lived stage.”

Raine laughed. “When I was in the second grade, I changed my name to Jane.”

“Well. That’s, uh, very down to earth,” he decided.

“Certainly more than Raine. You can’t imagine the jokes I used to get—Raine, Raine, go away; come again another day.” She shrugged. “Stuff like that.”

“I can see how that might have been tough. So, when did you change it back?”

“When Lanny Davis told me that he thought Raine was prettier. You might remember him. He was three years older and delivered the paper every afternoon. He had a maroon mountain bike with jet striping, black hair, and a pouty scowl that seemed incredibly sexy when I was ten years old. He tended to wear white T-shirts, jeans, and a black motorcycle jacket. Even in the summer.”

“Yeah, I remember him. Coldwater Cove’s own James Dean.”

“I suppose that was his appeal. Since girls tend to have a tendency for falling for bad boys.”

“So I’ve heard, and your little story only confirms my decision that if I’m smart, I’ll just lock Amy—”

“Ariel,” Raine reminded him.

“Right. I’ll just lock the little mermaid in the closet—preferably one located in a nunnery—and not let her out until she’s at least thirty-five.”

“That’s a bit drastic,” she said, enjoying the conversation. And him. “Besides, I’m not certain reaching adulthood is any guarantee of choosing the right man.”

Since Dan’s calls hadn’t uncovered anything about a boyfriend, Jack suspected the shadow in her eyes had something to do with her sister. “Is Savannah home for good?”

“I don’t know.” The laughter had faded from her voice and her eyes. “She says so. I hate to see any marriage break up, yet in this case, I suppose it’s for the best.”

“Guess she got one of those bad boys by default.”

“Yeah. She sure as hell did.” Raine shook her head. And tossed the somber mood off. “Do you think it’d be okay if I went upstairs and said hi to Ariel?”

“She’d love to see you, but I have to warn you. She’s not in the best of moods.”

“I believe I can handle one ill, cranky six-year-old,” Raine assured him.

She was nearly to the landing when Jack called out to her. “Hey, Harvard. What about you?”

“What about me, what?”

“Are you the type of woman who falls for bad boys?”

“The past couple years I haven’t had any time to think about it. But since you brought it up, I think if I were looking for a man, he wouldn’t be a bad boy, but a good man. He’d be strong enough to be sensitive, and confident enough not to be threatened by a woman. Oh yeah, and he’d be a wonderful lover.”

“What about money?”

“What about it?”

“Would he have to be rich?”

“Of course not. Besides, we’ll be too busy making love and celebrating all we have to pay any attention to what we might not have.”

“Sounds as if tangling the sheets is pretty high on the list.”

“Oh, it is.” Raine shot him a blatantly flirtatious, from beneath-the-lashes glance. “Because, as Ida always says”—her voice turned Marilyn Monroe breathy—“a hard man is good to find.”

With a toss of her head, she resumed climbing the stairs, pleased by the way her behavior had caused that wicked gleam in his eyes. No wonder her mother was such a flirt, Raine thought. It was more fun than she could have ever imagined.

The child formerly known as Amy was propped up in bed with a trio of pillows. Mermaids and various forms of colorful sea life swam over her sheets and comforters and she was surrounded by enough stuffed animals to start her own plush zoo.

“I’m sick,” she announced when Raine appeared in the doorway. She was wearing a pink nightgown that matched the bedclothes.

“I know. Your daddy told me.” Raine crossed the room, pushed aside a purple polka-dot elephant dressed in a rainbow-hued tutu and a tiger with one ear missing, then sat on the edge of the narrow bed. “I’m so sorry.” She pressed the back of her hand against a forehead that felt unnaturally warm.

“I have a fever.” Her eyes were dull, her cheeks pink. “It’s one hundred degrees. Daddy gave me some medicine, but then I threw up again, so he was afraid to give me any more for a while.”

“Sounds as if your Daddy has everything under control.”

“Oh, he always does. That’s why he’s sheriff.” She pulled the Lion King from the pile and hugged it to her chest. “I threw up at school, too. In the cafeteria. Johnny McNeil said it was because the cafeteria ladies put dog food in the tacos. But the school nurse said it’s just something that’s going around.

“Daddy said I’ll only feel bad for a few days. Then, when I get better, we can go to the aquarium in Seattle. That’s my favorite place,” she confided.