Instructions for Love (11 page)

“I think it would be wonderful to know the people you live near and find friends when you go out. The only person I usually know when I’m eating out or at a theater is the person I’m with.”

“I guess that’s ordinarily Trevor,” he said, annoyed. Her speech had gotten quicker, until she mentioned her boyfriend. Then her vision seemed to go inward as though her mind was trying to solve a problem.

She appealed to Dane. But he didn’t need to get involved in difficulties with her or her boyfriend. His fields were enough to worry about. He’d keep directing his problem-solving ability toward his crops.

“Of course I don’t go to a theater often,” she said. “Can’t afford it.”

“A theater,” Dane said. “We have one. It shows a whole lot of good movies.”

He had accomplished what he’d hoped. Erin laughed. “We have movie theaters in New York, too,” she said, “and we also have live stage plays.”

“The next town over puts on stuff like that,” he said, not needing to tell her he’d been to Broadway and enjoyed quite a few plays there. This woman was an intrusion into his life, nothing more, he reminded himself. She didn’t need to know everything about him.

“Something smells terrific.” Immediately after Erin spoke, T-Fred set long plates down in front of them. She gave Erin a wink and sauntered off to other tables.

“A po-boy,” Erin said, taking the top piece of French bread off and inspecting her jumbo fried shrimp, lettuce, tomatoes mayo, and pickles. She raised an eyebrow at Dane. “And the source of its name?”

“Some poor boy got hold of a loaf of French bread and tossed in anything he could find.”

A flash of humor crossed Erin’s face. “You don’t know, do you?”

He grinned. “Uh-uh. But I do know they’re all real good. People fix them with roast beef or fried seafood or whatever.”

She squeezed her sandwich together and took a bite. “I’ll add this to the things I love to eat,” she said after she swallowed. “The bread’s crunchy, and these big shrimp are to die for.”

Dane joined her in eating and had to agree. He always ate plenty of meals that tasted great, but a po-boy was his favorite sandwich.

Before they finished their last bites, T-Fred hollered from behind the bar. “Hey Dane, Erin, y’all want some dessert? We got bread pudding tonight.”

He looked at Erin.

“No thanks,” she called back to T-Fred. She grabbed Dane’s arm, and warmth from her touch skidded up his arm and heightened his senses. “Mom Bea said she made some for us to eat tonight.”

“She makes a terrific one.” He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to shift his hand out from under hers.

“Thanks, T-Fred,” Erin called, letting go of his hand to wave at the bar. “I enjoyed your po-boy. And meeting you.”

The diner’s owner nodded toward Dane. “Make him bring you back Friday. Tomorrow we’ll have pork chops and smothered potatoes, but our catfish—girl, you’ll want to stay down here.”

“I almost do now,” Erin said. She walked beside Dane to the door, smiling at the few people still left inside. “Bye, y’all,” she said, accentuating her contraction.

“Good seein’ you, honey,” Jim Ed’s wife said from their table. The lanky woman aimed a big grin at Dane and turned back to her husband with a nod.

Oh boy, had she just affirmed to her husband that she’d been right—Dane got himself a girlfriend?

He let more distance come between him and Erin while they walked out. Saying nothing to her when they ambled to his truck, he remained silent on the drive home. His passenger glanced at him, staying strangely quiet as though maybe she could tell his thoughts. They were reaching his driveway when she said, “That was nice. Thank you for dinner.”

He couldn’t help but snigger. “Dinner’s at noon.”

For the first time since they’d left the diner, Erin smiled. “That’s when we have lunch.”

“Then when do you eat supper?”

She offered a friendly laugh. She didn’t say anything when he parked in the garage, only peering around, glancing at him as he walked toward the back door brightened by a spotlight on the wall.

Thoughts of the vegetable clutter in that first room made him slow his stride and point toward the long porch that would open up to the dining room. Things didn’t look so great in that room anymore either, but at least it wasn’t such a mess. “We’ll go in through that door,” he said.

She climbed the steps in the dark ahead of him, making him decide he should have installed a spotlight near the entrance ahead to put some light on the porch. He should
not
be considering how good Erin looked. He shouldn’t think of how comfortable he’d felt being around her just now.

No, he thought, jamming the key in the keyhole, he hadn’t felt comfortable, not when all of those people in the bar decided he’d forgotten about Anna and taken a new lover.

He opened the door and waited.

Erin didn’t come in.

She stood, hands clamped on the porch railing, and stared out at the dark lawn. “It’s beautiful out there,” she said, her tone quiet.

Dane glanced out. He had done a good job of setting those spotlights in the oaks, he realized, noticing how attractive they made his yard. The lights’ glow made the branches hung with moss stand out. Crickets and toads were making themselves known, not with racket like they made after much rain, but soft, as if they were enjoying the night’s peace.

“At first this place seemed so still,” Erin said, continuing to look out there. Her voice was so soft Dane felt a need to move closer to hear.

He stopped beside her, and she glanced up. Her face and stance looked the most relaxed he’d ever seen. Her eyes appeared darker. Her upturned chin made her full lips aim up at him.

His heartbeats raced. His arms wanted to move, to slide down around this enticing woman.

But this Erin, with eyes searching his face, could not give him only a short time. She would want more. She’d need more. He had nothing more to give. And darn it, she was Tilly’s niece.

His gaze slid away from her face, and she stared out again, offering him only her attractive profile.

Balling both hands into fists at his sides, he willed away the urge to draw her body close to his.

This woman needed to leave. He’d told her when they had ridden through the fields that this place was his. But had she really understood? Just as soon as they went inside, he would sit her down and make certain she did. Erin needed to go back where she came from.

“There’s so much life out here,” she said. “If you really listen, you can hear the smallest sounds. Maybe even your heartbeat.” She was quiet. “And the trees are gorgeous. The moss, doing that slight sway, almost seems alive.”

“It is.” Dane moved away from her, heading for the door. “Moss is a member of the pineapple family, and while it’s on the branches, it’s living. After it falls to the ground, it’s dead. Just like people.” He pulled the screen door open. “You’re coming inside?”

Her dreamy expression vanished. Erin went in ahead of him. Dane stomped behind, determining how he’d tell her for certain that Tilly and Cliff had not owned this plantation but both worked for him. And no matter what nonsense Tilly wrote on those sheets of paper, Erin would have to go so he could get his mind and body working normally. Tomorrow morning wouldn’t be soon enough for her to leave.

“I’m still full from that po-boy, but we told Mom Bea we’d try her bread pudding tonight,” Erin said, moving through the dining room without turning on lights. She headed for the kitchen. “We have to taste it.”

Dane gave his head an angry shake. Whatever had gone on between his mother and Tilly must’ve created this ruse they’d both been playing, even after Tilly was down in her grave. He hated to hurt either woman, but he’d do what he must, even if it caused brief discomfort. Surely only the death of your soul mate would cause the anguish that lingered.

“We need to talk,” he said, following Erin into the kitchen.

She turned on the lights, went to the fridge, and pulled the door open. “We can talk while we eat. This must be the bread pudding.” She grabbed a long glass dish and set it down on the table. The phone rang, making her head jerk.

The ringing continued in the dining room. Dane grew even more annoyed. He was ready to get things settled with Erin once and for all.

Taking long strides to the phone, he yanked up the receiver. “Yes.”

Nobody spoke. No buzzing sounded to tell him the caller hung up.

“Who is this?” he asked gruffly.

“Is Erin there? Erin Westlake?”

The man’s voice surprised Dane, making him even more unsettled. “She is.”

The caller grew quiet again. After long seconds he said, “Can I speak with her?”

“You can.” Dane thrust the receiver down on the tabletop. In the kitchen, he told Erin, “It’s for you.”

Her face brightened. “Thanks.” She darted out the room.

He sure didn’t want to hear her with her boyfriend. Dane noticed the dish she’d put on the table. Gathering spoons and bowls, he made certain to create noise.

“He’s the overseer,” Erin said, her raised voice carrying from the next room. “And he lives here.”

Now
, Dane considered, stopping with the dishes. He could go in there, tell her and her man Trevor all the truth, and settle their problems.

He stepped toward the dining room.

“I will not!” Erin said to her caller, not spotting Dane at the doorway. “I’m really sorry if you don’t believe me, but I won’t leave this house just because another man is here and you think I’m doing something wrong.”

Dane’s finger was on the light switch. He withdrew from the room and returned to the kitchen, not needing to butt into their discussion.

Erin quit talking. Probably Trevor was reading her the riot act, letting her know he didn’t want her sleeping in the house with Dane. He didn’t blame the man.

He pulled the dry dishes out of the drain and put them away. Erin still hadn’t returned. He wanted to sneak back and listen. But that wouldn’t be right. He looked around for something else to do.

A few crumbs lay on the floor under his chair.

He tuned in his hearing while he used a broom and dustpan to sweep them up. Dumping them in the wastebasket, he drifted toward the open doorway.

“Yes.” Erin spoke in a pleasant tone on the phone. “He is a nice person, and I do like him.”

Dane grinned. She was talking about him. He had to lean closer now, to see her face when she spoke of him.

Even across the darkened room, she stood out. Her profile was curvy and attractive, but even more of her natural prettiness came from inside.

Her expression sank. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but I’m staying.” She listened to Trevor, murmured something, and hung up.

Dane jumped away from the door. He grabbed glasses, poured milk and set it at their places, disturbance building when she didn’t return to the kitchen. He listened for her footsteps. Glancing toward the dark dining room, he didn’t see her and looked for something else to do. He spooned bread pudding into their dishes.

“Oh thanks,” Erin said, having soundlessly entered the kitchen.

Dane felt his face brighten. Hers didn’t. She sat where she had eaten earlier in the day, her face glum, shoulders drooped.

He didn’t think he should mention her caller. Instead he said, “Did you ever have bread pudding?’

She glanced at him, seeming to take great effort to speak. “Once. At a restaurant.”

He couldn’t think of anything to say. This didn’t seem the time to make small talk, and neither to tell her about the plantation belonging to him. He sipped his milk and took a bite of the pudding.

With an aura of muted wretchedness, she seemed to notice what to do. She swallowed from her glass and spooned up a bite of pudding with raisins and a heap of meringue.

Her face brightened. “This is good,” she said, eating more.

Dane enjoyed watching her eat. He tasted his dessert again. His mother had done an extra fine job.

Erin appeared energized while she ate. She smiled at him, and he noticed that her smile added satisfaction to his food.

Her bowl was empty when she quit. “Gosh, I ate it all. But the bread pudding I had before was nothing like this.” Her eyes looked happy. That pleased Dane. But even as he hated to, he should probably tell her everything right now.

“Erin,” he said, and she leaned toward him, her eyes wide and bright. He glanced at her mouth. “There’s meringue on your lips.”

She grinned; so did he. She wiped her lips with a napkin. “Now, what?”

“You see,” he said, confusion roiling in his gut. Why was it so difficult to come out and say it?

But her eyes were so pleased now, her expression content. He hated to destroy what he saw at this moment. Or what he felt. Yes, he determined. He was satisfied being around her. But that feeling would go. She was only a woman and not important to his life.

“Erin.” He shoved his chair back. It squeaked against the floor.

Her head pulled back with the sound. Erin’s neck swiveled when the phone rang in the next room. She looked back at him.

“Do you want to get it?” he asked.

She shook her head.

Dane flipped on the dining room light when he stomped in. He lifted the phone’s receiver, ready for an argument with the caller. “Yes?”

“Hi, sweetie. I hope you’re having a great day. Can I talk to Erin?”

“Mom… what do you want with her?”

“Just a little girlie chit-chat. You wouldn’t be interested in that.”

“You’re correct.”

“I know, so please give her the phone. And don’t forget your dessert. Everybody needs a sweet treat every evening.”

“The pudding was good. Thanks,” he said, but his gut feeling told him his mother hadn’t been speaking about food. She never ate sweets in the evening and had always suggested that he shouldn’t either. She filled up on sugary things during the day. But at night, she’d often said, eating sweets put on too many extra pounds.

He strolled to the kitchen grinning. His mother had sometimes wondered aloud why she wasn’t losing any of the balloon-waist she said she carried and never seemed to connect it to her afternoon sweet tooth.

“It’s for you,” he told Erin. Her face darkened, making him consider what she must think. “And it’s not your boyfriend.”