Tender Vow (11 page)

This provoked a round of good-hearted laughter that did strange things to Rachel. On the one hand, it touched her that he was making the effort to connect with his niece and nephew, for they certainly needed and deserved his attention. On the other hand, it upset her that he’d shown up unannounced. If he’d come expecting a warm welcome, he wouldn’t be getting it from her. Why, she looked a sight in her stained T-shirt and torn jeans, and her straggly hair, dirty fingernails, and pallid cheeks devoid of any makeup did little to help her appearance. What was with him dropping by with no warning?

She cleared her throat, and at the sound, he glanced up to watch her descend the stairs. A smile sprouted on his fine-looking face, and she noticed that the hint of a dark beard had started to grow. “Hi, Rach. Hope you don’t mind my dropping over.”

“You have a habit of doing that, don’t you?” She shoved her hands into her pockets.

His boyish grin threw her for a small loop. “I stopped over to see Mom and Dad and decided to swing by here.” He glanced about the house, as if to assess what needed to be done.

“Well, I’m glad to hear you visited them. I know they appreciated it. You should have called, though. I could have brought the kids over to their place.” She swept a hand through her mussed hair.

His Adam’s apple bobbed with a deep swallow. “Mom mentioned your yard being full of leaves.”

“Why’d she tell you that? I’m managing just fine.”

“So my dad tried to tell me. And I could see right off how very much you have things…uh, under control.” This he said with a wry smile while jostling Meagan. “Have you been helping your mommy rake?” he asked, tweaking her nose.

“Yep!” she exclaimed cheerily, wrapping her arms more tightly about his neck. “She’s got a big blower that makes the leaves go all over the place. She can’t work it very good, though.” She wrinkled her nose. “Then she gets the rake and makes a big pile, and I jump in! After that, Mommy rakes it back up, and we put all the leaves in big paper bags. John-John can’t help, though, ’cause he’s too little. He just watches and laughs. Mommy says, wait till he starts walkin’, ’cause then we’re gonna be in big trouble.”

That produced a good round of laughter from Jason. “Is that right? He’s a busy boy, eh?”

“Mommy says he’s busier than a honeybee in a handbag, whatever that means.”

Jason rested his chin atop Meagan’s blonde head and grinned at Rachel. “It means he’s a live one.”

If he expected a smile in return, he could just stand there and wait for it. She’d intended to work on the yard after putting Johnny down for his nap. What was she supposed to do now, offer him a chair?

He set Meagan down and brushed his hands together. “Well, what are we waiting for, ladies?”

“Pardon?” Rachel asked, blinking at him.

Granting her a blank stare in return, he said, “Get your coats on; it’s brisk out there.”

“Wh—?”

“You might want some gloves, too.”

“Are we gonna play outside?” Meagan squealed.

Jason leaned down and tapped her head. “We, my dear, are going to work our little tails off. Are you up for it?”

“You mean rake the yard?”

Her small shoulders started to slump, but Jason was having none of it. “That’s what I mean, but don’t worry; there’s going to be some play involved. Now, go put your coat on, okay?”

Like a bear cub full of vim and vigor, she raced up the stairs and disappeared around the corner, singing another of her ditties, until Rachel issued her a warning not to wake Johnny. That baby slept through storms and fireworks, though, so she probably needn’t have worried. She turned to cast Jason a wary look.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Are you upset with me?”

She pursed her lips and blinked again. “You should have called first. Look at me.”

His innocent grin unnerved her. “You’re cute.”

“Oh, stop it.” Warmth crept up her neck. She swiveled on her heel. “If it wasn’t for Meaggie, I’d tell you to leave. I don’t need your help.”

“Ouch! You are mad at me.”

Saying nothing, she opened the hall closet and took her shabby work coat off a hanger.

“House looks nice,” Jason said, gazing about.

“Thanks,” she muttered, pushing her arms through the sleeves and then fastening the buttons. She turned to look at him and had to crane her neck, noting that he’d always been a couple of inches taller than John. She then admonished herself for making the comparison. “I’ve been doing slightly better at keeping up and, well, keeping the focus more on the kids than on me.” She wouldn’t tell him she’d made the extra effort largely because of him.

“That’s great, Rachel.” He gave her arm a gentle squeeze, the warmth of his grasp penetrating her sleeve. Thankfully, Meagan raced down the stairs at the precise moment she drew away.

“I’m ready!” Meagan declared, even though she wasn’t—her coat was only half on, with her mittens sticking out of the pockets. Rachel stooped to finish dressing her, all the while sensing Jason’s watchful gaze as she zipped her up, tied her hood securely, and worked her thumbs and fingers into each mitten.

Outside, the sky was overcast, the air biting. Next door, Ivy Bronson’s Pomeranian, Buffy, pounced against the chain-link fence and barked. Ivy, a widow in her seventies, would normally step out on her front porch and ask if Meagan wanted to play with her pooch. But Rachel had seen her pull out of her driveway about half an hour ago, probably bound for the corner market.

Jason chuckled. “Vicious dog your neighbor has. Bet she keeps the street safe.”

“
She
’s a boy, Uncle Jay,” Meagan corrected him. “And he only barks at strangers. He doesn’t know you yet.”

Rachel retrieved two rakes from the side of the house, where she’d put them three days ago, then entered the garage to get the electric leaf blower. Jason shuffled behind her. “The leaf bags are stacked over there,” she stated, pointing to a shelf on the wall.

“Got ’em. Anything else?” he asked.

“Nope.” She didn’t know why her mood had turned sour, but she had a feeling Jason’s presence played a part.

***

Well, this was interesting. Not only had Rachel given him the cold shoulder since he’d shown up on her doorstep, but she’d also made a point to avoid conversing with him, pretty much speaking only to answer a question or to say something to Meagan. He didn’t let it bother him, though. He figured she had good reason for being annoyed, seeing as he had arrived without an invitation. Again. He made a mental note to call her ahead of time in the future, since she apparently didn’t appreciate surprises of this nature. Funny how she’d remarked on her appearance, as if it mattered how she looked in his presence. Of course, she would look good with a bag over her head. Rachel Evans just had what it took to turn a man’s eye.

Not that he was looking.

“Watch me, Uncle Jay!” The nonstop chatterbox made a running leap for the leaves he’d just blown into a nice pile.

He grinned and stepped aside, setting down his leaf bag. “Whoa! Good dive! Ever think of training for the Olympics?”

The girl emerged, looking like some sort of prehistoric swamp rat. Leaves clung to nearly every inch of her body, from her woolen cap to the bottoms of her pant legs. “What’s the Lim Picks?” she asked with tilted head and wrinkled nose.

Rachel met his eyes and burst out laughing. The sound made his pulse quicken, though he didn’t let on; he just joined in, bending over to pick up Meagan and hoist her over his shoulder, then giving her head a playful knuckle rub. “The Olympics, goofy brain.”

Meagan started thumping on his back. “You’re the goofy brain.”

“Well, you’re a—a fuddle-head,” he countered.

“You’re a cock-a-doodle-doo,” she shrieked with glee.

Rachel’s laughter rose to the heights. “You two are silly.”

Wind rustled the leaves around, and a crow swept down to snatch up a twig in its beak and carry it off. “Oh, yeah?” he asked, giving Meagan a good-natured spank. “Then you’re a monkey’s mother.”

Gleeful laughter tumbled out of Meagan as he held her by her legs and twirled her several times. “And you’re a baby’s—butt,” she spouted, hesitating slightly on the last word.

“Meagan Joy!” Rachel covered her mouth with a gloved hand. “Don’t say that word.”

“Why not?” She braced her hands on Jason’s back and lifted her head. “Grandpa Roberts says it. He tol’ Grandma his butt hurt from watchin’ so much football, and she tol’ him the pain would go away if he’d get off it and start raking.”

Rachel joined him in another round of laughter. “My goodness! I’m going to have to remind Grandpa Roberts about your little ears,” she said as her smiling eyes met Jason’s and tugged on his heartstrings.
For pity’s sake, Jason. This is Rachel.

Jason adjusted his grip so that he held Meagan by her ankles. “It’s getting late, stinker-toes, and we still have leaves to bag.” Dangling her from behind, he twirled her again, as she squealed with delight, and finally lowered her to the ground.

And so it went—spurts of laughter and good-natured teasing intermingled with work, mostly on Jason’s part, especially after Rachel went inside to check on Johnny. She reappeared ten minutes later with the little guy, a bundled ball of energy in a stroller. The sight of the two of them, and of Meagan running around the yard, did another number on his emotions, and he had to give himself a stern reminder that this was his brother’s family, not his.

As he raked the leaves and bagged them, he thought about the discussion he’d had with his dad before coming to Rachel’s today. They’d been standing on the porch at his parents’ house, talking about her. “She seems to be doing pretty well, considering what she’s been through,” his dad had said. “Right now, I think it’s best you let Rachel be, son. Drive on back to Harrietta. I’m sure your girlfriend—what’s her name? Carla or Catherine—”

“Candace,” he’d supplied, unafraid to let his annoyance show in his tone.

“That’s right. Candace. I’m sure she’s waiting for a call from you. Do you have plans with her tonight?”

Jason had huffed an impatient sigh. “She’s working, but that’s beside the point. Why would you suggest I leave Rachel be, especially when she clearly needs help?”

“Of course, she needs help,” his dad had agreed, irritation lining his voice. “Just not from you.”

“Not from me?” It’d been hard to keep his voice down. “Why do you keep saying things like that, Dad? She’s as much a part of me as she is you.”

His dad had pulled at a string on his coat sleeve, yanking until the thread started to unravel. “I…I know a few things, that’s all.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jason had hissed through gritted teeth. “What ‘things’ are you talking about?”

His dad had straightened his shoulders, blown out a loud breath, and looked away, never one to face a topic head-on. “I’d rather not discuss it now.”

“Of course. Now’s not a good time, is it?” Oh, he could have said so much more. Like how he had always lived in John’s shadow—
perfect
John,
smart
John, the son who never failed to earn his dad’s approval. When would it be Jason’s turn to make his dad proud? Probably never, considering how he’d somehow wound up being the one to blame for John’s death. At least, that’s how it seemed, if the vibes he got from his dad were any indication.

Instead of responding with a caustic remark, he’d bitten down hard on his lip, and thankfully so, since his mom had opened the door and come outside at that precise moment. She’d given him one more hug and asked when he planned to return.

Dear Lord, when is he going to leave?” Rachel mumbled while running a bath for both kids, the rushing water drowning out her words. The bathroom clock registered 8:22, well past both kids’ bedtimes. Across the hall in Meagan’s room, Jason’s long, muscular body was spread out on the floor, belly down, as he helped Meagan build a tall tower with stackable cubes. If Rachel leaned back far enough, she could see his legs from the calves down. Johnny was delighted by his uncle’s sprawl, for it provided him a fun hill to climb up and over, his wild giggles making even Rachel smile as she held her hand under the faucet to test the water temperature. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the attention he paid her kids—they were his niece and nephew, after all—but his presence put her on edge. She’d forgotten how alluring and utterly charming he could be, something she had managed to ignore since marrying John.

And ambitious, and bold, and generous, and friendly, and driven. Goodness!

He’d accomplished so much for them today. In addition to the yard work, he’d taken her car to a nearby shop for an oil change, not to mention a wash, and then, with Meagan his constant shadow, he’d gone to the hardware store for supplies to fix a drippy faucet and a faulty wall socket. When Rachel had protested, saying she could just as easily call in a repairman, he’d winked and said, “I
am
the repairman.”

In between bursts of work, Rachel had made grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, a completely non-fussy, kid-friendly supper, yet Jason had called it the best meal he’d had in months.

“Come on,” she’d said, skeptical. “I’m sure Candace is a great cook. She probably spoils you rotten with all sorts of gourmet dishes.”

“Oh, we eat gourmet, all right,” he’d said with a laugh. “Gourmet takeout from Francine’s Deli, Morgan’s Steak House, and the Harbor Inn, a fancy little place down on Lake Mitchell. There’re more. Would you like me to list all of our favorite restaurants?”

She’d laughed. “Okay, so you eat out a lot.”

“How’s exclusively sound?”

“Good,” she’d joshed. “Mighty fine, actually.”

“Candace doesn’t cook,” he’d said with a chortle. “Problem is, neither do I. That makes us quite a pair, wouldn’t you say?”

She’d shrugged. “Nothing wrong with eating out, as long as you can afford to, I guess.”

He’d taken another big bite of his sandwich, from which melted cheese had started oozing out the side, and winked across the table at her. “Nothing like a home-cooked meal, if you ask me. I could order this very thing at Francine’s, and I’d bet my last nickel it wouldn’t taste half as good as what I’m eating right here in Rachel Evans’s kitchen.”