Home to Sparrow Lake (Harlequin Heartwarming) (14 page)

“I’m sure he is.”

He gazed at her closely. “I assure you, his intentions are honorable.”

“Aunt Margaret can make her own decisions about what she wants to do and who she wants to do it with.”

Again, he asked, “Is there anything wrong? You seem a little tense.”

“It’s just that we can’t force things to happen for other people. We need to give people space.”

“Well, sure...” Alex leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. To her relief, he changed the subject. “When I went to get the drinks, I saw them whipping up some homemade ice cream for dessert. It’s made from local cream.”

Trying to relax, Kristen took a deep breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever had homemade ice cream.”

“Well, then, it’s time you tried some.” Alex rose and held out his hand. “Come on, let’s go get dessert.”

Realizing she’d been panicking over nothing worse than good intentions, Kristen hesitated only a second before taking his hand and getting to her feet.

A soft rock song started up. Someone had brought a portable stereo. Kristen recognized the song, one of her favorites, and let the melody flow through her.

Relax, already
.

What in the world had gotten her so uptight? No one could force her to do anything, and she didn’t want to spoil the day. She was determined to decompress and not think about jobs or futures or anything. That could all wait.

She would just enjoy the present.

* * *

M
ARGARET
WAS
IMPRESSED
with the watercolor John had hanging in his office. “Ed Williams. I know him. He was a visiting artist at the university for a semester.” Her finger near the glass covering the painting, she traced a curving line. “Even though it’s abstract, you get the feeling of movement and sky and water.”

“That’s what I love,” said John. “Anything with sky and water and sailing gets to me every time.”

She could see that. He’d decorated his office with a nautical theme. Sea colors. A ship’s rail and wheel. He definitely had a creative side, which appealed to the artist in her.

He said, “I’d have Turners if I could afford them.”

“Good taste,” remarked Margaret. “I’ll have to look at the other pieces you’ve collected.” He’d already invited her over to his house for coffee some afternoon, and she was thinking she would take him up on it. “Do you sail?”

John laughed. “At the moment, I just motor—I have a small bass boat. When I lived in Chicago, we had a twenty-two-foot day sailer.”

“We?”

“My late wife and I.” He suddenly looked a little sad.

Margaret nodded. She knew that sadness well. “You must miss...your sailboat.” She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by getting personal too quickly.

“Yep, I sold it. I plan to get another one someday, though.”

And another woman? Margaret wondered. Maybe he hadn’t only called her to make sure Kristen came to the fish fry.

“Do you know how to sail?” he asked.

“Oh, I used to know a little about it. It’s been years.”

“If you got on a boat, it’d probably come back to you.”

“Maybe. I’m sure not as strong as I used to be, though. The body kind of goes downhill as it gets more miles on it.”

He glanced at her appreciatively. “Maybe you’re stronger than you think. You’ve held up pretty well.”

They laughed together. Margaret liked John’s compliments, and she also appreciated his sense of humor.

“Besides, you can get yachts now with all kinds of automatic thingamajigs,” said John.

“That would definitely help.”

Was he just making conversation, or was he suggesting they sail together sometime? Margaret wondered. Intriguing thought. She’d always loved a bit of adventure.

John walked to a window and checked on the party outside. “How are Alex and your niece getting on?”

“Actually, they were getting along just fine before tonight. They went out to dinner in Lake Geneva earlier this week.”

“Great. Shall we go see how they’re doing?” He added, “But first I have to check on the food, make sure it’s holding up.”

“I’ll help.”

They headed back outside and cut through the crowd to the food tables.

Margaret had to admit John was the most intriguing man she’d met in a while. He was warm and had a sense of humor. Even better, he had a hidden creative side. Who would have guessed that he collected art? Exactly the kind of man she would like to get to know better.

* * *

A
S
MUSIC
WAFTED
through the balmy afternoon air, Alex was happy to see that Kristen seemed more relaxed. She’d definitely been a little on edge today and he hadn’t even arrested her for anything. On the one hand, she hadn’t seemed averse to fixing up her aunt up with John McClintock.

On the other hand, Alex had gotten the strong sense that Kristen might not be totally comfortable with the way he’d been pursuing her. Okay. So they had only known each other two weeks. And just because he felt they could easily develop something more meaningful didn’t mean that she was in the same place.

Yet.

He wasn’t ready to give up on the possibility.

They watched as a group of young guys moved the food tables to clear a small dance floor. People drifted out into the space with partners or even alone, every age group represented from two-and-a-half to eighty.

“Are the twins coming today?” Alex asked.

“I don’t know. Heather said something about dropping by, but it may be later. She has a busy schedule.”

Alex nodded. “A lot for a single mother.” He nodded toward the dancers. “Want to take a spin?”

“Sure.”

They did a kind of modified two-step to the soft rock, Alex’s arm around Kristen’s waist. He wanted to draw her closer but decided he would respect her desire for space on all levels until she learned to completely relax with him. She sure felt good in his arms, though.

Margaret and John also made use of the dance floor. Over Margaret’s shoulder, John flashed him a thumbs-up.

Alex merely smiled and was glad that Kristen hadn’t seen the gesture. Maybe having everyone in town take an interest was too much pressure on a new relationship.

* * *

W
HEN
A
LEX
DROPPED
Kristen and Margaret off at the house later on, Kristen was in a much better mood. Dancing had been fun. She had enjoyed the music and the freedom of moving around the concrete slab of a dance floor. She had to admit she’d enjoyed sliding in and out of Alex’s arms even more.

Of course, dancing had taken its toll. Her feet hurt. As she took the wedges off and tossed them near the bed in her suite, she heard laughter from a television show coming from Brian’s side of the house. Recalling the somber black figure at the party, Kristen padded down the hallway to see what her brother was doing. The door stood ajar and Brian lay stretched across the bed on his stomach. Kristen took a deep breath and knocked.

He didn’t turn around or look up. “Yeah?”

“I want to talk to you. I know you’ve had a lot to deal with—”

“I don’t have much to say.”

She didn’t like his belligerent tone or the way he’d cut her off. “You
should
have something to say. You were late for work every day this week.” She’d been busy on the phone or at the computer when he came in and, later, hadn’t wanted to talk to him when others could hear. Then he’d apparently slept all day Saturday so this was the first chance she’d gotten to have a talk. She said, “We depend on you to process the orders,” hoping he still liked that sort of approach.

“I won’t be there forever. I’m going to college in the fall.”

She swallowed her annoyance. “Yes, but you’re supposed to be helping out this summer.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “So are you. Does that include hanging out with cops?”

So that was what had prompted his sour expression earlier. “I’ve gone out with Alex in my free time.”

“Yeah, you two are having some big romance. I saw you sucking face with him at the fish fry.”

They had never kissed at the fish fry, but she ignored the sarcastic remark. “It’s not some big romance,” she said, wondering if it could be. Ignoring the sudden rush of her pulse, she asked, “What were you doing this week, say, on Wednesday night?”

He swung his feet across the bed and sat up, but his back was still to her. “Is this another interrogation?”

“Brian, I really am wondering what you’re doing when you’re out...alone or with friends. Some truly strange things are going on in town.”

“People
are
strange.” He snickered.

“It isn’t funny, Brian. Breaking and entering isn’t amusing...and neither is stealing pies. You told me before that you weren’t involved with stealing.”

Now he stood up to face her, an expression of mock horror on his face. “Someone stole a pie? Wow, big crime!”

She was beginning to get angry. But she tried again to sound understanding, “We all have changes to deal with.”

“Changes? So what?”

“What is the matter with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me. It’s you who’s got your pantyhose in a wad.” He started for the door but stopped short, since he was going to have to go around her. “Why don’t you call your cop boyfriend and talk to him? Ask him about the stolen pie. Maybe he ate it himself when he ran out of doughnuts.”

“You’re being facetious.”

“Ooh, big word. Did you learn it in college?”

“That’s it!” she snapped. “I don’t appreciate your tone, Brian. I’m trying to deal with a bad situation—”

With one step, he brushed past her. “Deal all you want.”

“Brian!” She turned to watch him stride down the hall. “I don’t want us to be like this! Don’t you care about your family? We care about
you.
”

He didn’t answer. Heading toward the lakeside door, he stopped for one last comment. “Call Mom and talk to her if you want. Talk to her stupid husband, too. I’m sure he’ll have plenty to say about me.”

“Acting out won’t make things better.”

He slammed the door on her final words, though it was already past ten o’clock. What could she do? Run after him and tackle him? Upset, Kristen stalked back to her bedroom. For a moment she just stood there, considering whether or not she should indeed call their mother. Her mother would no doubt share concerns with their stepfather, and she worried that getting Mike involved would make things worse.

Alex would be a better person to talk to. He would understand where a rebellious teenager was coming from. Their conversation in Lake Geneva had struck a good note with her. She glanced at the clock, halfway tempted to call him, even this late. But there was no reason to get someone else involved with family problems, she soon decided, especially not when she was upset.

Resolving to sleep on it, Kristen only hoped that tonight Brian would not go out and do something worse than stealing pies.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

K
RISTEN
FOUND
HERSELF
agreeing to twin-sit again on Monday. Heather had called with another emergency—the regular babysitter had the flu. Planning to redeem herself, Kristen readily agreed. Her sister had been nice about the FamilyMart fiasco, but she wanted to show Heather she could handle anything that came up. As the oldest in the family, Kristen had always been ultraresponsible, so she wanted to make up for getting so frazzled the other day.

When Heather opened the cottage door, however, the twins weren’t in sight. “Where are they?” she asked, noting her sister looked tired.

“Playing in their bedroom,” said Heather. “Having a major sort-out with dolls and horses.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I was up late. We have an exam tonight.”

Kristen shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it all.”

“Come on, you’ve gone to college. You’ve worked. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, I kind of do. I don’t have two children, though.”

Heather went on, “You’ve always been busy. You were never home when I called in Chicago. Probably working overtime. I know you’re some kind of incredible workhorse.”

“You tried to call me? And I wasn’t there?” Apparently, Heather hadn’t wanted to leave messages, and Kristen hadn’t noticed the number coming in to her caller ID.

“Now don’t start feeling guilty, Kristen. I know you loved your job. And I love studying landscape design and maintenance. I love my kids, too. I’ll get through this.”

Noticing Heather didn’t say she loved her job managing Sew Fine, Kristen promised, “
We’ll
get through it.” She didn’t want Heather to think she was totally on her own. “And we all love Addison and Taylor. They’re bright spots for the future of the family. I look forward to spending more time with them.”

“Let’s see what those ‘bright spots’ are up to.” Heather laughed and motioned Kristen down the hall toward the bedrooms.

The twins had twin beds, a dresser and a couple of toy chests in their room. At the moment, the rest of the floor space was filled with an army of fashion dolls, mostly naked, some flat on their backs, others stacked in piles, the majority with wild long hair. Horses of various materials and sizes lay here and there among them, hooves in the air. Various pieces of doll clothing were scattered about. Kristen was reminded of a movie scene depicting the end of a battle back in the days when there was cavalry. Addison and Taylor sat in the center of it all, moving people and animals around.

Addison glanced up to see her and jumped to her feet. “Aunt Kristen!” she yelled, grabbing Kristen’s legs.

“Hi, sweetie.” She hugged and kissed her little niece, thinking it was getting easier to tell the two apart—Addison’s face was rounder and her blond hair a little shorter than her sister’s.

“Aunt Kristen!” shouted Taylor, following suit. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m going to stay with you tonight. We’ll have fun.”

“Fun!” yelled Addison. Then she seemed to realize she had a redheaded doll in her hand. The doll was wearing only a pair of shoes and a crown. “This is Scarlet, the princess.”

“Scarlet isn’t a princess. Throw her back in the box,” declared Taylor.

“Is too a princess! And I want to play with her!”

“You got plenty of dolls for your side already.”

Sides? Sheesh, maybe they
were
playing war, Kristen thought.

Taylor flopped back down on the rug. “I have the most horses.”

“I have the most dolls,” Addison came back.

“You’ve both got a lot,” agreed Kristen, trying to mediate before the war between the twins became real.

“Mostly gifts from the host of loving relatives who thought they needed all this stuff. Now, girls, you don’t have to make it a contest,” Heather told the twins. “Play together peacefully. And that also means doing what your aunt tells you tonight. Play nice and then go to bed.”

“Bed? Not now,” said Addison, pouting. “It’s too early! And the dolls need a bath.”

“The horses need a bath, too.” Taylor showed her mom and aunt a palomino with a long, sparkly tail.

“Ugh, those horses have cooties!” Addison made a face.

“Do not!” answered Taylor, pushing Addison. “Your dolls have cooties.”

Addison pushed back. “Do not!”

“Stop it, girls!” Heather said firmly. “Nobody has cooties.” Aside, she whispered to Kristen, “I’m sorry I ever brought up the term with them.” She ran her hand through Addison’s hair. “Hmm, a little greasy. It looks like some humans could use a bath here.”

“They need a bath?” Kristen asked.

Heather sighed. “Well, I didn’t get around to it. We just had supper.” She narrowed her eyes, looking the twins over. “They get sweaty and dusty at camp.”

“I can give them a bath.”

“Would you mind?”

“What can be so hard about bathing five-year-olds?” They weren’t babies. “They’ll get in the water by themselves, right?”

Heather laughed. “They certainly will, and you don’t have to stand there and shower them or anything. Just supervise and adjust the temperature.” She cautioned, “You’ll have to help them wash their hair, to make sure they get all the soap out. We have ‘no tears’ shampoo, of course.”

The bathroom of the cottage had both a large built-in soaker tub and a separate shower. “Do they like showers or baths?”

“Either.”

Addison piped up. “I want a bubble bath.”

Taylor agreed. “Bubbles.”

“Okay, bubbles it is. And I’ll read them to sleep,” Kristen assured her sister.

“If they get too hyper or act up, give them a timeout.”

“I’m not going to be bad,” asserted Taylor.

“Me, either,” chirped Addison.

“Good girls,” Heather said. “But you’re tired...and dirty. Now do what Aunt Kristen says, okay, sweethearts?” She leaned down to hug and kiss both twins.

Kristen followed her sister out to the living room where her book bag and purse lay on the couch. “Don’t worry about anything.”

“I won’t. Thanks again.” Heather hugged her. “See you around nine-thirty.”

Kristen returned to the bedroom to watch the twins play.

“See this lady?” Addison held up a blonde fashion doll with a long ponytail. “This is you! And this is that nice policeman.” She grabbed a boy doll and put the two dolls’ faces together to make kissy noises. “Ooh, I love you, Aunt Kristen, I love you!”

Oh, for goodness sakes! Was everyone on the romance bandwagon? Kristen sat down on the tallest bed and picked up Scarlet, who was lying at her feet. “This princess has a crown, but she doesn’t have a dress.” She looked around but only spotted a pair of tiny shorts and a cape of some sort. “Doesn’t she have a nice princess gown? Doesn’t anyone have clothes to wear?”

“We. Can’t. Find. Them,” Taylor told her, enunciating each word separately as if Kristen might not understand. “Besides, everybody’s gettin’ ready for a bath.”

Right, the bath. The twins wanted bubbles. Kristen left for the bathroom. The tub was a nice big one, set in a tiled enclosure that formed at least a two inch rim on three sides. She turned on the water until it got warm enough, then set the stopper.

As she went back to the twins’ room, her cell phone rang. She felt a little thrill, thinking it might be Alex, and answered without glancing at the caller ID. But it was no one she knew and the man chattered away in Spanish. “Wrong number,” she told him.
“Numero incorrecto.”

Addison glanced up. “Can you teach us Spanish, Aunt Kristen?”

“I don’t know enough Spanish to teach it, but I’m impressed you recognize some words.”

“We’re learning counting in Spanish at camp,” said Taylor.
“Uno, dos, tres...”
She made a horse gallop over the rug. “
Uno
horsies,
dos
horsies,
tres...
”

Addison grasped Kristen’s hand to look at her phone. “Can I see it?”

“Okay, but don’t call anyone.”

“I know how to work it,” said the little girl, and hit Menu. “Here are the phone numbers.” Her small fingers seemed pretty adept.

“You’re good. Are they teaching you about phones at camp?”

“No, but Mommy lets us use her phone sometimes.”

“She lets us call Gramma,” put in Taylor. “And Aunt Mar-grit.”

It was unbelievable how the young took to technology, Kristen thought. Most kids knew far more about it than adults. She slipped the phone into her pocket. “Let’s put that away for now and get ready for our bath.”

“I’m not done playing.” Taylor frowned.

“You can play after your bath,” said Kristen. “Then you can put all your horsies to bed.”

“Or the horses can take a bath, too,” Addison said. “They’re stinky.”

“You better wash your dolls,” Taylor told her. “They’re wa-ay stinkier.”

Addison stiffened, probably spoiling for a fight, but Kristen interrupted, “Don’t you have a dolly bathtub when they get ready to bathe? They’d like that better.” She gestured to the door. “Now be good girls and go in the bathroom and get undressed. I’ll add the bubble bath.”

“Bubbles, yay!” squealed Addison, obviously forgetting any tension.

There was a box of bubble bath right by the tub. Kristen poured about half a cup under the stream from the faucet. Bubbles frothed and spread around the tub.

“Yay!” Addison squealed again, taking off her bright green T-shirt. She threw it up in the air, followed by her shorts and underwear. Two of the garments landed half-in and half-out of the tub.

“Oops, we’re making a mess,” said Kristen, taking out the wet garments and placing them in the sink. “Where’s Taylor?”

“I dunno. Back in the bedroom, I guess.” Addison plopped herself in the tub, accidentally but thoroughly splashing Kristen. “Ooh, nice and warm!”

Kristen went into the hall. “Taylor? Your bath is ready.”

In her bedroom, the little girl was gathering up her horses.

“Leave them on the floor, honey,” Kristen told her. “You can pick them up later.”

“Yay!” came Addison’s squeal, followed by more splashing.

Taylor told Kristen, “You can pick up the dolls. I’ll do the horses.” She guessed that would be all right and leaned over to pile the dolls up. “Okay.”

Taylor took off, running by her. Returning to the bathroom, Kristen met Addison running out, soaking wet. They collided.

“Oof! Where are you going? I haven’t washed your hair.”

“I’ll be back,” the little girl said, leaving sopping footprints behind her.

Meanwhile, Kristen saw that Taylor had shed her clothes and left them on the wet floor. She and all the horses she’d been carrying were in the bathtub. Whether she liked it or not, the toys were getting a bath, too.

“Yay!” Addison shrieked, back with an armload of dolls. She threw them in the bathtub with multiple splashes that made Taylor screech and duck, then climbed in herself.

Water sloshed over the edge. If the clothes on the floor weren’t wet before, they were soaked now. So were the bath mat and a couple of the towels, not to mention Kristen. She figured she was going to have to do at least one load of laundry. Suddenly remembering her cell phone, not wanting to expose it to any more dampness than she could help, she took it out of her pocket to set it on a shelf several feet from the bathtub. The twins splashed and shrieked and sang.

“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourselves.” She reached over to turn off the water. They already had plenty.

Taylor splashed Addison in the face and Addison splashed back.

“Hey, let’s settle down.” Kristen was looking for the shampoo.

Taylor pulled a bedraggled doll up from the water by its dripping long red hair. Then she dunked it. “Oh, oh, I’m drowning!”

“No, you can’t drowned Scarlet! Stop it!” cried Addison.

“Taylor!” Kristen frowned at the little girl.

Taylor assumed an innocent expression. “It’s just a doll.”

“But Addison cares about her,” said Kristen.

Taylor brought the palomino with the sparkly tail, long and wet now, up and over the water. “Okay, here comes Rainbow, the flying horse, to save her. Whee!”

More water splashed and bubbles spilled out onto the floor. Kristen could hear water pouring down the overflow drain. “It’s still too full. We should let a little water out.” How could half a cup of bubble bath produce so many bubbles? They seemed to be a foot high. From the corner of her eye, she saw the box of bubble bath...which was empty. Somebody’s little hands had been busy. “You used
all
of the bubble bath?”

“We need lots and lots of bubbles!” yelled Addison.

Well, there was nothing to do now. Parting the sea of bubbles, she found the shampoo. “Let’s get your hair clean.” Kristen reached for the nearest twin. She squirted a generous amount of shampoo into her hand and rubbed it into Taylor’s wet head. The little girl wriggled, still playing with horses.

Suddenly, Taylor stiffened, then screamed. “Owww, it hurts!”

Kristen jumped, scared. “What hurts?”

“Ow, ow, my eyes!” Taylor screamed louder, thrashing.

Addison pointed at the bottle in Kristen’s hand. “You used Mommy’s shampoo.”

Oh, no, she hadn’t paid enough attention and snatched up Heather’s shampoo! Before Kristen could say or do anything else, Taylor clambered out of the bath, still shrieking.

“Taylor, stop!”

“Eeeeek! It hurts.” The little girl sped out of the room. Outside, there was the sound of something falling. And more shrieking, even louder.

Kristen stumbled to her feet and grabbed a big towel from the linen shelves. “Come back, I’ll wash it out, Taylor!”

She was horrified when Taylor ran away from her, still screeching. “You hurt me!”

A lamp tumbled to the floor with the sound of glass breaking.

“I didn’t mean to! Taylor!” Kristen pleaded, just about in tears herself. “Please come back here! I’ll make it better!”

With another shriek, Taylor ran into her bedroom and slammed the door.

Kristen pounded. “Taylor, let me in!” There was no lock, so Kristen pushed inside.

“No!” Taylor shouted as Kristen tried to wrap the big towel around her niece. But the little girl jerked away to run out into the hall.