Any Man of Mine (16 page)

I retied my hair into a ponytail and brushed my hands over my pants to whisk away the flour from the pizza crust I was making, surprised at their trembling. Jace had taken my father to a horse sale in Kolvik and wouldn't be home until suppertime. Neil and Chip were gone—moving James out.

Two days ago, James told my brothers he would be moving back to his old house. Chip and Neil passed this information on to me with a hurt look, like it was all my fault and, maybe, in a way it was. James had kissed me three times now and the last time, he had made it pretty clear how he felt.

I wished I was as clear about what I wanted as I used to be. I didn't think it was fair that as soon as I had made up my mind and figured that the Lord had sent me a clear indication of support by sending
Mrs. Woytowich and a job, that I should now renege on my plans.

Because every one else was gone, the only person who could now be at my door, was the man who had sent my well-ordered plans into a tailspin.

Please, Lord, don't let me make a fool of myself,
I prayed as I wiped my hands on a cloth, swallowed down my nervousness and walked to the door.

The man standing on the porch wasn't James.

It was Les Steglund.

Today he didn't wear a suit. But his blazer, polo shirt and khaki pants gave him an air of subdued sophistication that was a direct contrast to the truck engine sitting on blocks he stood beside. Chip had put the engine by the porch and the tires from the same truck he had leaned up against them. He and Jace had plans to rebuild it but for now there was no room in the shop. So, for some reason that only made sense to my brothers, it ended up as a lawn ornament giving the house that whole redneck look that all the best landscapers were showcasing this year.

“Hello,” I said, my voice still breathless from my previous thoughts. “Would you like to come in?” I was glad to see him, yet puzzled. Why had he come all the way out here. For a date?

Les smiled at me and nodded. “Thank you. I'd like that.”

As I stepped aside, I caught a flash of light.

James stood by his truck, holding a box with a mirror in it. He stopped, as if he sensed me watching
him. My heart started up again as he stared directly at my house, looking at me, then Les. He nodded slowly, as if to say “Okay then” or something like that, then he chucked his chin at me in a mocking gesture. He shoved the box into the cab of the truck, then got in and slammed the door. As the sound ricocheted across the yard he turned on the truck, and spun it backward in a half circle, then peeled out of the yard, spitting gravel.

“Neighbor,” I said succinctly. “He has anger management issues.”

“I see.” But his puzzled frown told me otherwise.

I opened the door, then kicked aside Neil's cowboy boots so Les wouldn't trip over them. The porch had seemed, to my eyes, passably clean a few moments ago, but when Les entered it with his immaculate clothing and his barbered hair, it suddenly looked messy and dirty.

The kitchen passed muster though, but only because Mrs. Woytowich had spent the morning cleaning it up for me.

“Would you like some coffee?” I asked, banking my burning questions about his presence.

“That would be nice.” He settled onto a kitchen chair and glanced around the room. “This is a cozy house.”

“Thanks. My dad and brothers built it a number of years ago.” I felt a catch in my throat when I thought of my mother's joy in planning the house and how she had only a few months to enjoy it before she died.

“Wow. That's impressive. They did a great job. I like the little breakfast nook.”

I glanced over my shoulder at the half-round nook with its low windows overlooking what used to be the garden. There was no table or chair in there and for the first time since the house was built, I wondered why not. It was one of those things that grew on you until you didn't even stop to think that it could be different.

“So you're probably wondering why I'm here,” Les said, folding his hands on the table in front of him.

“I'll bite,” I said, filling the kettle and putting it on the stove.

“I wanted to tell you in person that you got the job.” He waited a beat to let this sink in.

And sink it did. Right to the bottom of my stomach.

It had really happened. I repeated the words to myself to make them real. “Well, that's great,” I stammered, trying to absorb this.

“We're really pleased to have you on board. I think you'll be a great asset to our company.” He was quiet as I ground the coffee beans, then when I had poured the coffee in the french press and put out some of Mrs. Woytowich's cookies, I was ready to give him some attention.

“I'm curious why you drove out here to tell me,” I said, deciding to head directly to “Go.”

Les toyed with the napkin I had placed in front of him. “I guess I was wondering why you didn't call me.” He looked up at me as he leaned back in his
chair, stroking his clean-shaven chin with one hand. “I thought you might. I have to confess I was a bit disappointed.”

I frowned, trying to catch his drift. “I haven't been in the city,” I said, groping my way around this unusual conversation.

“Did you need an excuse?” His smile deepened his dimples.

“Well, call me old-fashioned, but I always thought it was the man that did the calling and the women who did the washing of hair and filing of nails while waiting for the call,” I joked, wishing I could muster up a bit more savoir faire. Which, of course, was a little hard to pull off wearing an apron that hung past my knees and with my hair drifting out of the ponytail I had pulled it into a few moments ago. He'd caught me off guard, not a comfortable position for me.

“I wish I'd known that,” Les said, tilting his head to one side, examining me. “I would have.”

The timing of this come on really bit. A few months ago I would have been ecstatic to have a good-looking man making hints about dating me. Now, it made me ill at ease.

“About this job,” I said, pouring him a cup of coffee. “When did you want me to start?”

“Dan and I were hoping you could begin in a week.”

A week? My eyes flew to the calendar. Every day was filled with obligations and appointments. My day timer looked the same.

“That's a bit soon,” I stammered, sitting down and pulling my own cup of coffee closer. “I don't know if I can leave my current job that quickly.” I had promised Laurel I would go with her to the health nurse, who—according to Laurel—was over-bearing and rude. I wanted to see Kent's story get the rare happy ending I saw in this business. I still hadn't found a home-care worker for Stan Bowick and I had a couple of home-studies to finish up.

And James…

“We could give you two weeks,” Les continued, as if sensing my hesitation. “Out of courtesy for your current boss.”

Could I up and leave in the middle of all my work, knowing that Casey, odious as he might be, would be even more short-handed? Even two weeks wouldn't be enough to wrap up my current case load.

You knew this was coming. There will never be a good time.

I chewed my lip, thinking.

This is what you wanted, isn't it?

Was it my imagination or did my alter ego sound slightly sarcastic?

And why was I not surprised when I heard another knock on the door. I excused myself, got up to answer it. Again my heart started up. Again it wasn't James at the door.

Instead, the person standing on my doorstep was Robin, her mascara running in brown rivulets down her cheek, sobbing her heart out.

“W
here's my baby and where's James?” she cried out as soon as I opened the door. She caught me by my shoulder, grabbing onto me, as if afraid I was going to disappear, as well. “The house is empty and that crib…” She sucked in a breath. “The crib is empty, too. Did my brother take off with her? Where did he go?”

“He's moving today.” I could see she was terrified and didn't need a lecture on “if you wouldn't have abandoned your baby with your older brother you might have known what was going on in her life.” I sensed now was not the time. Such a pro, I am. “He's probably got Sherry with him.”

“Where is he moving? Why is he moving?”

He's moving because he doesn't want to see me every day. He's moving because he's angry with me.
Which, being the soul of discretion, I kept to myself.

“The place he's moving to isn't far from here. Do you want to come in and wait for him?”

Robin sniffed, sucked in a shaky breath and nodded, palming her mascara off her cheeks. “Yeah. That'd be nice.”

I introduced her to Les. He got a trembling smile, but then Robin spied the breakfast nook. “Can I pull a chair into there to watch?”

“Sure. Do you want some coffee or anything?”

“No. I just want to know where my baby is.” She grabbed a chair by the back, dragged it to the nook and sat down, twisting her hands around each other. “I'll just sit here, 'kay?”

It wasn't really “'kay,” not with Les here, but I nodded. “He'll be back soon. I'm sure of it.”

I poured Les a cup of coffee, then he opened his blazer and pulled out a long, white envelope. “I have here the offer of employment and the contract that we like our future employees to sign. I took the liberty of bringing it along for you to see.”

I refocused my attention from Robin and her brother, to Les. My hands were shaking as I took the letter. I now held my future in my hands. This had been my focus for the past few months. The vision that had pulled me through my frustrating moments with my brothers and my father and my boss and my work.

It represented a new future—in the city—away from Preston.

But instead of tearing the envelope open, I set it beside my coffee cup. It was good news. It could wait.

“The letter sets out the terms of employment, benefits package, all that,” Les said helpfully, glancing from the letter to me. I could see he didn't understand why I wasn't ripping it open, either. “So how soon can you move to the city?” he said, pressing the point.

“I'd need to find an apartment…” I let my voice trail off as I glanced around the kitchen, thought of my cozy bedroom and how excited I had been to have a real bedroom instead of the curtained-off space I'd shared with Chip for the first ten years of my life.

“We could help you with that.”

“Why would you want to move to an apartment?” Robin put in from her corner of the kitchen. “They suck. There's never enough space. You've got a great place here, why would you want to move to the city?”

Now I was getting advice from a young woman who thought nothing of leaving her baby daughter with her brother and taking off to who knows where and only phoning once.

I leveled her a blank look. She cut her eyes away from me, as if she understood my unspoken thoughts. “Besides, James wouldn't like it if you moved away.”

Her words hung in the air like a faint challenge.

“Is James your brother?” Les asked me, thankfully ignoring Robin's little comment.

“No, James is
my
brother.” Robin looked at him, suspicion narrowing her eyes. “He likes Danielle,” she said, throwing the words down like a challenge.

I stifled a groan. Why did she think Les Steglund, good-looking man, future coworker, potential date, needed to know that?

And how did she know that?

“James is a good guy.” Robin got up from her chair and stood beside me. “I shouldn't have left Sherry with him. I know that.” Robin dropped into a chair and caught my hand, her expression entreating me to understand. “She cries a lot, and I didn't know what to do with her. When I found out I was pregnant, I was going to get rid of her. But James talked me out of it. So when I was having problems I thought it was his idea, he could take care of her. So I left her with James. I had a friend say I could come and stay. But not with Sherry. I couldn't do it—take care of her. You know? I didn't mean to mess up his plans.” She squeezed my hand, hard, emphasizing her point. “I miss my baby, so much it hurts and I'm sorry I took off, but I didn't know what to do anymore. I was all alone and I was scared I was going to hurt her. I'm glad James took care of her. He's the best brother in the world, Danielle.”

That I could agree with. I couldn't think of too many brothers who would be willing or able to take care of an infant niece. In spite of James's initial anger with his sister, never once did I hear him complain. In fact, if anything, he was almost over-protective. And now I find out that he had convinced her to keep her baby, as well.

A good man.

The words gently sifted through my mind, then settled light as a feather.

A good man. A good guy.

Les cleared his throat, then reached over and took the letter from me. He slit it open with his pinky, pulled out the letter and laid it on the table. “I'm going to need you to sign this for me so that we can start processing your information. For our payroll department.”

I bit my lip as I looked down at the letter. Robin clung to my hand. I felt suspended between two places and didn't know which way to go.

I looked at Les, who was watching me now, a puzzled frown creasing his forehead. The letter lay on the table between us. Ominous. Waiting. “How soon do I need to give you my answer?” I asked.

His frown deepened. “I suppose we could wait a few days. Though I was under the impression you hoped to begin as soon as possible.”

“I…I have a few cases I'm going to need to clear up that will take a little longer than I had thought.”

“Why don't you tell me what you'll need.”

I bit my lip. What did I need? How long would it take? I really had no idea. And while I was hesitating, I heard the noise of a truck returning.

Robin saw him the same time I did. “James is back.”

I didn't think he would be back this soon, but sure enough, there he was. And he was striding toward the house. Without Sherry.

He knocked on the door, but he didn't wait for me
and came right in. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, his eyes flicking from me to Robin, who had jumped up from the table.

“James, you're here.” Robin ran to him, then stopped. “Where's Sherry? Where's my baby? What did you do with her?” Her voice grew more hysterical with each question.

James caught her by the shoulders and gave her a light shake. “Robin, relax. Sherry is sleeping at the other place. Neil is with her now.”

Robin gave a shuddering sob. Just like Sherry. “I thought she was gone. I'm sorry I took off and let you take care of her. I'll be a good mother. I will.”

James pulled her to him and stroked her head, and I felt a tug of jealousy. “I know you will, Robin, and I want to help you do it.”

She pushed herself away and then looked back at me and Les. James followed the direction of her gaze. “Thanks for letting me stay here, Danielle,” she said. “And I hope you like your new job.”

James lowered his hands, his eyebrows shooting together. “New job?”

Robin sniffed and nodded. “Yeah. That guy over there—” she chucked her chin in Les's direction “—he's Danielle's new boss.”

“Coworker,” Les corrected, getting to his feet.

I guess now I had to introduce them. I stood up, as well, gesturing toward Les. “James, this is Les Steglund. Les, this is James Ashby. He's a friend of my brothers.”

The contrast between the two men couldn't have been more extreme. Les, all polished and clean, his cheeks still shining from his close shave, his hair neatly clipped and artfully styled. James, dirty and dusty in his frayed jeans with a hole in the knee, his worn jean jacket, his hair that hung past his collar and the stubble that shadowed his cheeks. The man and the guy.

Except the guy had some hidden depths. A diamond in the rough. And the sight of him made my knees wobbly and my breath shaky.

James's gaze ticked from Les to me, a mocking tilt to his smile. “Only a friend of your brothers? Danielle, I'm disappointed.”

So much for hidden depths. I knew exactly what he was up to. He was trying to show Les that there was more between us than I was letting on. He was jealous. The thought sent a light shiver trickling down my neck.

“A very good friend,” I conceded.

“And this guy…” James chucked his chin in Les's direction. “He's a friend, too?”

“Coworker,” Les repeated, annoyance entering his voice.

“At your new job,” James said. “Your neat, tidy and boring job.”

“Her new position will have multiple challenges,” Les protested. “She will be a valuable asset to our organization.”

James didn't even glance at Les. “Danielle's more
than an asset,” he said, his tone taking on an edge I hadn't heard before.

And, from the surprised look on her face, neither had Robin.

“But I won't deny the valuable part,” James continued. “She's valuable to the people of Preston County, as well. The people who don't have someone to speak for them, or stand up for them. People like Kent and Laurel and many others.” He held my gaze as if he was trying to say more. “People like me.”

My heart fluttered. I couldn't look away from him. And as our eyes held, something indefinable, but tangible, quivered in the air. The moment held, stretched, and Les, Robin and the entire kitchen slipped away from my conscious thought. I was waiting for the flute to come in, all soft and breathy, and for James to come striding toward me à la Richard Gere in
First Knight,
but then Les cleared his throat and Robin said, “Hey, James. What's going on?” and I crashed back to earth.

I'm going to be leaving. I'm going to be quitting my job and going to the city. That's why this Les guy is here….

Man. Les is a man. James is a guy.

But as James slipped his arm tenderly around his sister and escorted her out of my kitchen, and toward the other house, I realized that distinction meant nothing to me anymore.

An awkward silence followed his departure. I fiddled with the strings of my apron, wondering how
to proceed, when the sound of a loudly honking horn pushed away my thoughts. What was this? Grand Central Station?

I ran out the door, thinking of my father. Then my poor overworked heart dropped into my stomach.

A rusted, beaten old truck rocked to a halt inches from the back bumper of Les Steglund's BMW. The door opened and Steve Stinson got out. He hitched the belt of his pants, scratched his chest and looked around, taking stock. Then his beady eyes zeroed in on me and he smiled—an oily, greasy, stomach-turning grin. “Well, well, there you are.” He hitched his pants again and sauntered over. King of his domain.

I was wondering how long it would be before he came here. He had scattered enough threats around that I was actually surprised it hadn't happened sooner.

“Where's your brother, Chip?” he asked, taking slow deliberate steps up the stairs. He stopped at the top one, rested his hands on his hips and grinned at me.

My stomach flipped but I faced him down. Don't show fear. Don't blink. Be the tough girl your brothers and James seem to think you are.

“What do you want, Steve?” I kept my voice firm, pushing my innate fear of him down.

“Ooh. Aren't we the little banty hen.” He laughed shortly and then looked past me. “And here's the rooster, a different one than before. You've been a busy little hen.”

“What…do…you…want?” I asked putting hard emphasis on each word.

Steve's grin abruptly shifted to a sneer and he came toe to toe with me. “I…want…to…teach…Chip…a…lesson.”

My breath fluttered in my throat. Steve was sober this time and now I was scared stiff.

“Hey, I think you should leave,” Les said from behind me.

Steve glanced at him, laughed, then turned back to me. “Pretty boy says I should leave. But I don't want to.” He grabbed me by the arm and gave me a shake. “Tell me where Chip is.”

I jerked my arm back, but Steve was stronger than I thought. “I'll call the police, Steve.”

In the corner of my eye I saw Les move toward him, but one glare from Steve stopped him dead. He turned back to me. “And how are you going to call the cops with me hanging on to you, sugar?”

I gave another ineffectual jerk, wondering how this stand-off was going to end. Though I had faced down many belligerent parents, uncles, even grandparents, none had ever laid a hand on me. I tried to think, tried to plan, but couldn't. And Les wasn't being much help.

“Let me go, Steve. This is only making things worse.” Plus he was cutting off the circulation of my dialing hand.

“Worse for you, hon. So far, I'm doing fine.”

“But not for long, Steve.”

James's voice was quiet but it resonated.

Relief made my bones weak as James walked up
the steps, his booted feet ringing out on the boards. “Let her go, Steve. Now.”

Steve glanced from James to me, then back again. “Oh, yeah. I remember you. You're the other guy.” Steve looked at Les. “Did you know about this one?” he asked Les, chucking his chin toward James. “Little Miss Danielle here's been seeing him, too. Saw them together by the river, all nice and cozy a while back.”

“Thanks for the update, Steve,” James said, smiling now. “Now get your hands off Miss Hemstead or I'll have to help you along.”

“Like you did then? Lots of guys here. Lots of talk, but no action.” Steve gave my arm a shake. I pushed at him and then, before I could even register what had happened, Steve was jerked away from me. James twisted him onto his back on the porch. Steve stared with shock and surprise up at James, who still smiled and now had his booted foot on Steve's chest.