Home to Eden (19 page)

"Shouldn't you be home primping for your date tonight?" Brenda stopped a few feet from where Kate was unloading sacks of manure from a truck and stacking them in neat piles next to the purple bam.

"I've got time." Kate hefted another sack to the top of the pile.

"Shouldn't somebody be helping you with that?" Brenda asked, frowning.

"Are you offering?" Kate threw her friend a dry look of inquiry as she reached for the next sack on the truck.

"Ordinarily, I'd like nothing better," Brenda said mendaciously. "But I'm not really dressed for it." She gestured to her trim white slacks and light blue silk blouse. "But I'll go get one of the boys for you."

"Exercise is good for you."

"I've heard that rumor, but I think it's a filthy lie. Shall I get Jerry or Larry?"

"It's John and Don," Kate said, grinning. "And you don't need to call them because Vm almost done."

"Well, I knew they rhymed," Brenda said, shrugging. She narrowed her eyes against the sun. "It's kind of warm out here. You're not going to get sunstroke, are you?"

"Worried about workman's comp?"

"No, I just don't want to have to explain to Gareth how his fiancee came to collapse on the job."

"I'm not going to get sunstroke," Kate assured her.

Every time Brenda mentioned Gareth's name, her conscience pinched viciously. She'd managed to avoid him almost completely for the past two weeks, since that disastrous night with Nick. She'd seen him at church and they'd had one hurried lunch together, but she hadn't spent any real time alone with him.

Sitting beside him in church had been agony. If a lightning bolt had come through the roof and struck her down, it would have seemed no more than she deserved. As she struggled to pay attention to Philip Blackthorne's gentle sermon, she vowed to tell Gareth the truth. He deserved that much from her. If he broke off their engagement... Well, she could hardly expect him to do anything else.

She thought later that she would have told Gareth the truth if he hadn't had to leave right after the service. She hadn't seen him or talked to him for two days, which had given her forty-eight long hours to wonder if telling him was the right thing to do.

Did it serve any purpose to tell him something so hurtful? What if she just kept the truth to herself and did her best to make up to him for the terrible wrong she'd done?

Or was she trying to justify making the easy choice?

The questions spun round and round in her head until she felt dizzy. In the end, she didn't really make a decision so much as she simply took the path of least resistance.

"Are you doing something special tonight?" Brenda asked, breaking into Kate's thoughts.

"Tonight?" Kate tossed the last of the bags of manure on the stack and turned to look at her blankly.

"You and Gareth," Brenda prompted. "Are you doing anything special?"

"I don't know. Dinner or a movie, I guess." She pulled off her leather gloves as she spoke. "It's what we usually do."

Brenda arched her brows. "You sound less than enthused."

"No, I really enjoy our evenings." Kate smiled and hoped the expression reached her eyes. "Some people might get tired of doing the same old thing, but I kind of like it."

"Gareth is a little predictable," Brenda said with rueful affection. "I guess you'd better get used to it, if you're going to marry him."

"Of course I'm going to marry him," Kate said. Brenda's startled look made her realize that she'd spoken too sharply. Guilty conscience at work, she thought, and forced a quick laugh. "I guess that wasn't really a question, was it? Sorry. I'm a little tired. My brain seems to be running in neutral lately."

"You have seemed a little distracted the last couple of weeks." Brenda looked concerned. "Is everything okay?"

For a moment, Kate was tempted to pour out the whole miserable story. She wanted desperately to talk to someone about what had happened. In the back of her mind was the vague idea that maybe, in talking about it, she'd be able to figure out how she'd come to abandon every principle, every moral, every shred of sanity and find herself in bed with her fiancee's brother. Not even in bed, she remembered. They hadn't even made it that far.

"Everything's fine," she lied. Best friend or no, she couldn't tell Brenda about that night with Nick.

"Well, it's not going to stay fine if you don't get home and change," Brenda said, wrinkling her nose as Kate came closer. "You smell a little...earthy."

"Eau de manure?" Kate suggested. "Maybe I can make it all the rage."

"I wouldn't be surprised. If people will embrace navel piercing, they can probably be convinced that smelling like a cow pie is a good thing." "Maybe we could become filthy rich." "At least you've already got the filthy part down." For the first time in two weeks, Kate laughed. The sound made her feel a little better. If she could laugh, maybe there was hope that life, as she knew it, wasn't completely at an end.

"This has been great." Gareth's arm rested lightly around Kate's waist as they walked toward her apartment. "It seems like ages since we spent any time together."

''It has been awhile." She could feel the sharp ridges of her keys digging into her palm and made a conscious effort to loosen her grip. "We've both been pretty busy. You're doing all this volunteer work."

"And you're spending all your spare time at Spider's Walk," he finished.

"Hmm." She made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat. The truth was, for the past two weeks, she'd spent as little time as she could at the big old house. She'd hired some high school students and showed up in the morning to make sure they knew what needed to be done. Then she'd run from

the property. Every second she was there, she was afraid she might turn around and see Nick.

"Nick says Harry is pleased with the work you're doing," Gareth said as they reached her door.

"When did you talk to Nick?" The question came out more sharply than she'd intended.

"A couple of weeks ago," Gareth said, looking mildly surprised.

A couple of weeks ago? Kate felt her mouth go dry. Of course, he'd talked to Nick since that night. Obviously Nick hadn't said anything to him about what had happened. He had no more reason to want the truth to come out than she did. Shaky with relief, she gave Gareth a thin smile.

"I haven't seen much of him lately."

They'd reached her door and Kate slid the key in the lock before turning to face him. "I had a wonderful time tonight."

"So did I." He reached up to brush a strand of hair from her cheek. His hand lingered, his fingers brushing over the curve of her cheek. 'I've missed you, Kate."

The look in his eyes made her stomach jump with nerves. Obviously, he thought they were going to be spending the night together—a perfectly natural assumption. He wouldn't insist, of course. She could say that she was tired or that it was a bad time of the month. Gareth was too much of a gentleman to question either excuse. He'd kiss her good-night and leave. For a moment, she was tempted to do just that, but she couldn't put off this moment forever.

She had two choices. She could tell Gareth that she'd been unfaithful and pray he could forgive her, or she could go on as if nothing had happened. And this was the moment in which she had to decide which path to take.

Kate drew a shaky breath and smiled at him. "You're not on duty tonight, are you?"

"Not tonight." His dark eyes smiled even before his mouth curved. "Do you have any plants you need to put to bed?"

"Not tonight." She repeated his response and turned to unlock the door, hoping he wouldn't notice that her hand was shaking.

"What do you want to listen to?" Gareth asked over his shoulder. He was crouched in front of Kate's music system, head tilted as he looked at the row of CDs next to it.

"You choose," Kate said. She set her wineglass on a side table and linked her fingers together in her lap. In the past, she'd appreciated the fact that Gareth didn't head straight for the bedroom as soon as they were alone. When they spent the night together, there was less a sense of urgency than a feeling of comfortable anticipation. They both knew where the evening was going to end, but there was no rush to get there.

Tonight, she wanted to scream at him to get on with it. Not perhaps the best attitude when it came to sex, she thought with a flash of black humor.

"Your taste in music is about thirty years older than you are." Gareth stood up as the mellow tones of Frank Sinatra singing ''Only the Lonely" came from the speakers.

"There is no age limit on Sinatra," Kate said automatically. It was an old discussion. He'd been teasing her about her fuddy-duddy taste in music ever since they'd started dating.

"There may not be an age limit on Sinatra, but you're the only person I know under the age of sixty who actually owns an album by the Mills Brothers."

"I like the Mills Brothers."

"So did my grandmother." The sofa cushion dipped as he sat beside her. "You really should update your taste. I'll start you out easy. We'll go for something that came out after the mid-sixties and work our way forward from there. By the time we're married, you might even be ready for something contemporary."

He reached for his wine but Kate caught his hand in hers, stopping him. Startled, he looked at her as she lifted his hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss in the palm.

"You're not really thirsty, are you?" she asked softly.