Love In a Small Town (6 page)

Maybe he'd never be any good at this father stuff. His own parents avoided the whole parental process by keeping him supplied with nannies and tutors—none of them worthy of emulating. He was unfamiliar with loving and being loved. Even with Anne, the relationship was based on a more casual and easy friendship rather than a deeply emotional bond. Her first marriage had ended before Sarah was even born.

So how did this explain his reaction to Lindsay? The jolt of sexual awareness he felt whenever he got near her, first at the Kensington, and again this evening, hit him like a static charge. He wanted to see her again to discover if he'd imagined the intensity of his attraction. Tonight he'd felt it every time his eyes sought her out. A few times he caught her looking at him, so she must have felt it, too.

'The minute I saw her, I knew.' How many times had he rolled his eyes at that dumb statement?

He poured more wine into his glass, aware he was becoming morose, maybe a little drunk, and definitely feeling sorry for himself.
Damn it. Passionate love? Mind-blowing sex? Kid Stuff. Love at first sight was an illusion created to sell romance novels.

He couldn't deny his attraction to her. Examining the feelings carefully, as though they were a prized jewel, he considered every facet of his reaction and could come up with no explanation.

She wasn't strikingly gorgeous, but beyond that, she glowed with life.

Her apparent pleasure when she laughed, the way others responded to her, and obviously liked her, her enjoyment of simple things, it all stirred yearnings he couldn't comprehend; the wanting for a life he'd never had consumed him. He couldn't recall when he'd had such intense feelings, if ever.

Savoring his wine, he summoned her image to his mind. She had a simple beauty, not contrived, but comfortable and natural. Figure, not fashion plate thin; she had hips. Yeah, hips wide enough to cradle him, with room to accept all of him.
God, I am getting hard just thinking about her. What the hell is going on?

Her breasts fascinated him.
Real, I bet
. They were naturally round and full, ripe for nurturing him or his child.
Child?
The fantasy popped, like a cartoon balloon.

Get hold of yourself, man. This is crazy. You don't know this woman, and already she's having your baby.
He wasn't ready for a woman in his life.

Not after tonight, good buddy. You fucked-up big time. What a dumb, insensible, inconsiderate thing to do—insulting her like that. You're lucky she didn't dump her soup on your lap.
What the hell made him say that, anyhow? He'd known five minutes into the conversation that she was the real thing, and not the self-involved, money-hungry, predatory female he wanted her to be.

The tears in her eyes told him how much he'd hurt her.
Damn my pride, for cutting into her like that!
Being judged and found wanting was new for him, and it pissed him off.

Smart move, you dumb ass. You'll be lucky to ever see her again. Like hell. Oh yes, I will see her again.

Laughing gently, he shook his head, remembering
. The lady has a temper, and she sure knows how to use it. Ouch! Janine? For sure a shark in female disguise. I barely managed to escape with my body parts intact.

Lindsay. That was all he knew about her, not even her last name. Janine changed the subject every time he tried to find out more. Well, she was tall—perfect for his six feet—and he appreciated tall women. She could look him square in the eye, and spit in it, which she did tonight, at least figuratively. Laughing softly, he remembered when he referred to her opinion of rudderless men. She came close to punching him out, furious like a bobcat poked with a stick.

Yeah, he'd had fun goading her a bit for being so judgmental, but why'd she get so mad? Did she think he had taken offense to her likening him to the men she scorned? Ah, but wait. She had no way of knowing that. She only knew him as summer help, working for tips at a local restaurant, looking for a ready woman to sponge off of.

Understanding came in a flash. He had it right, after all. The lady was quick to judge. Here he sits, feeling low as a louse for hurting her, when
he
should be offended. She scorned the lowly waiter, not educated, or motivated enough for her.

Damn.
Adult rejection was new to him and it hurt. Just like Sarah must be hurting.

Back to being pissed off, he figured it'd serve her right if, next time he saw her, he'd be driving the Jag he kept parked in the garage.
There would be a next time. Oh, yeah, the lady needed a lesson in humility, and I'm the guy who's going to teach her.

He yawned. His day began by five a.m. with the results from the Asian markets. With High Frequency Trading, the slightest bit of unrest could shave a hundred points off the Dow and send the S&P 500 reeling before the U.S. markets opened. He had a client waiting to hear from him early tomorrow about some utility bonds he'd recommended. Since he wasn't going to find any more answers tonight, he might as well head for bed. Gathering up the rest of the wine and the glass, he turned to enter the house, smiling as he plotted payback to one highly opinionated female.

"I count a dozen boxes of Caswell rose soap and four lilac," Lynn said, and waited while Violet checked it off the list. They were at Scentual Encounters taking inventory, a never-ending job in a small retail store. It always went faster with two people working. Violet, who had been a good friend since high school, and Lynn's only employee, nodded and glanced out the front window.

"Hey, the police are here. They just pulled up to the curb." Violet waited until the young, uniformed officer entered the store, and said, "Hi, Norm, what's up?"

Unattached, and very popular with the singles crowd, Violet knew every eligible man in town, and, like Norm, had been to high school with most of them. "What brings you here?"

"I'm making the rounds and I need to talk to you all. We've been having some shoplifting lately."

"Tourists, you think, or professionals?" Lynn asked. Many stores in town were plagued with shrinkage, as it was called in the retail trade, but she didn't have problems with it. Nothing she sold had enough resale value to make it worth the risk. Stores selling high-end clothing, jewelry, and expensive porcelain figurines had the most trouble. If she lost something, it was usually a cologne tester, a hairbrush, or a bottle of perfume oil.

"Nah," Norm said, shaking his head. "We think it's local kids doing it by the stuff they're taking: printed t-shirts, fancy lingerie, and the cheaper costume jewelry."

"Younger teenage girls," Violet said, knowingly. "We used to do that when I was in middle school. We thought it was fun to see if we could get away with it. Never thought of it as real stealing."

"And when you got into high school?" Norman asked, looking interested.

She winked at him. "Boring." She sang the word. "We found other activities much more entertaining." She sparkled at him. He sparkled back.

Norm stood tall, aware, like a hound on the hunt. Lynn interrupted. "Have you talked to Caro at the High School?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, I did talk to her, and I understand you've made friends with one of the members of a group we're watching. Their ring leader, a girl named Ashley Simmons, has been in trouble from time to time."

"Sarah Graham? I'd be surprised if she were involved. She's new and way too shy to have the nerve, but I'll see if I can learn anything. I know they work in a group. Some of them keep the sales clerk busy while one of them does the lifting. I'll watch for it."

"You're on the Chamber of Commerce Alert List?" Norm asked.

"Yeah, I've got five other people to call when I get the alert. It's been very effective. We caught that professional couple who were making the rounds with a baby stroller this spring, before they really got started."

"Well, I appreciate it." He winked at Violet, who gave him a smile with a promise of good things to come. She watched him go to his patrol car, and drive away.

"Darn," Lynn said, "I hope Sarah isn't getting into trouble already. I like her. She's been in here a couple of times, making an effort to learn perfumery. She's a smart kid."

"I know Ashley, the leader of that group," Violet said. "I used to baby-sit her. She's a mean, spoiled brat. I sure wouldn't put shoplifting past her.

"Speaking of kids, how did the Soup Supper fund raiser go? I went early and it looked like a good crowd. By the way, Boss Lady, you're holding out on me. Tell me about that burning hunk of love I saw you sitting with. Major eye candy."

"Eye candy," Lynn laughed. "Sometimes you are too much. His name is D.G. Martin and he's the new waiter at the Kensington. The one everyone's talking about."

"So. Did you two hook up or what?"

She blushed, remembering her attraction. "You know I don't do the sex scene, casual or otherwise."

"Honey, I don't want to know what kind of hurt happened to you that turned you off to dating, but you need to get over it. You're cutting yourself off from what could be the best part of your life: love, marriage, and children. Haven't you ever wanted those things?"

"Of course I do, but I don't think it'll happen for me. Some women simply aren't cut out for that."

The question, as always, put her on the defensive. "Too many times things start out all right, then everything goes wrong. How do you know the man you're with won't suddenly turn on you and ruin it all?"

"By now, you should be able to read the signs. You don't let yourself even try."

"Well, it isn't as if there are a lot of eligible men to choose from around here. Besides the itinerant summer help, who else? An occasional salesman who sells to the restaurants and bars, or someone here for a weeklong business meeting or seminar? I've tried those guys and it's always ended in disaster. An evening out for dinner is supposed to end in their bed, or mine. They don't take 'no' lightly. Forget it."

"All I can say is, he must have been a real bastard."

"Who?"

"The guy who made you this way. You were real young when it happened—teenager, right? You made a poor choice, but you're older now. You know enough to not repeat your mistake. Take a chance, or at least, leave yourself open to the possibilities of a relationship."

"I'm a coward. Intimacy scares me. I'm afraid if it goes wrong, I won't be able to escape."

Her friend studied her for a moment. "I've worked for you what—two years now? I know you. I hate what you're doing to yourself." She paused, considering. "Lynn, let's see, how can I put this? Imagine everybody has a box to hold memories for when you get old. If you don't start living, when you open yours and look inside, all you'll see are dreams you've murdered in the interest of being safe."

Lynn's small laugh did nothing to lessen her discomfort. She hated talking about her personal life, but Violet pursued a subject relentlessly when making a point.

"You can choose to take a risk, with hopes of a life filled with love and laughter, or you can choose safe, and the only outcome will be a lonely death."

"I can't jump into a relationship like you can."

"Then take it slow. I'm not saying you have to hook up on the first date." She paused, searching for the right words. "You have so much love to give, Lynn, it breaks my heart to see you flush it all away. Give yourself a chance."

Hesitating, not sure if she wanted to share D.G. with anyone, she said, "That guy you saw me with waited on us when I ate at the Kensington last week, and when he looked at me and smiled, I felt a rush all the way down to my toes."

"Oh, now we're talking. And? Go on," Violet said, all eagerness.

"I kind of screwed up. Janine flirted in her usual gross way, embarrassing us all, and I got mad. She made a crack about me not being interested in men and I sounded off about not wanting to get involved with the summer help—you know, men who drift away once the season is over."

"Not good, but he didn't know that." Violet looked at Lynn's face. "Uh oh. He heard you. What does that have to do with the fund raiser?"

"When I saw him there, I felt the same, you know, attraction, only worse. God, Violet, he's the only man who has made me feel this giddy since high school."

"Hold on. I see some hope here."

"I'm afraid not. He reminded me, very rudely, of my little rant at the Kensington and I got mad and told him off. Then, to make it worse, I pushed Janine on him."

"Oh, Lordy. I see what you mean. Janine is lethal. She eats the unwary for breakfast. Don't give up on him, girlfriend. The way he looked at you, believe me, there was something there."

Sarah preyed on Lindsay's mind that afternoon while she shopped in the produce section of the town's only supermarket. While she wandered past bins of fruit, she thought again of how lonely the girl looked.
Where was her dad? Didn't he care that she suffered?
Mentally shrugging, she turned her attention to business, nodding to friends as she examined the last of the summer tomatoes.

Grocery shopping in Eureka Springs ranked as a social event. Most of the locals went there to get the latest news before it came out in the paper. The town's weekly newspaper, considered the major source of news, was published every Thursday. Residents learned of coming events and the city council's doings, but the tourists loved it for the police reports. Eureka Springs had very little crime, and most of that not serious, but every call to police dispatch was studiously recorded, along with the disposition of the complaint. Reports like: '4:14 a.m. Resident filed complaint. Large bird was making loud noises in tree outside window. When officer arrived, rooster had departed.'

She stopped to examine a display of eggplant.

"You don't want that one. It's a female."

She knew the voice behind her. Her insides fluttered. Turning, she saw D.G. Martin. It had been a few days since the supper. Her opinion of him hadn't changed; the man was still a jerk, but her heart leaped when she looked into his chocolate eyes, their edges crinkled with humor.