Only Emma (12 page)

"Think she likes you, Emma? I do. We'll count that as a positive."

"Will you stop? I refuse to play this silly game."

He chuckled. "No sense of humor, another minus."

Lissey stared at him, not daring to trust her instincts. The serious look was gone, replaced by twinkling eyes and a hint of a smile.

"Stop this teasing," she whispered.

"Teasing? Me? Nah, never," he said, grinning broadly now.

Her heart leaped in her chest and her breath caught. He'd been playing with her—about getting married. He had real ideas along that line? Or was she kidding herself? "Are you serious?"

"I told you. The longer I know you the more I want to be with you."

Good grief, he meant it.
"I have no interest in an arranged marriage. I need to love my husband. When I find one."

"That sounds good to me. How about we try that love thing on for size again?"

"What do you mean?"

"Think your mom would babysit Emma tonight? We could go out dancing. Maybe a picnic at the beach tomorrow?"

She shivered. "All of this was just a pickup line?"

"I suppose you could call it that," he said with a laugh.

She reached under the cash register and pulled out a mooring registration sheet. "You need to sign in. How long will you be staying?"

"As long as it takes."

****

Lissey smoothed her khaki skirt and studied herself in front of the mirror. She had half a dozen flowered skirts for daily wear in the shop, but few good clothes, only the fancy blue dress and the khaki skirt she wore when conducting business at the Triniday Resort or on Great Casque. Jake probably didn't have any fancy suits or anything like that on the boat with him, so the khaki would be about right. She hoped.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea," her mother said from the doorway of her bedroom.

"I'm just going dancing, Mama."

"Hmmph. Seems to me that's how you started with Ramon."

Lissey smiled into the mirror so her mother could see her. "I'm older now and wiser."

"I'm not so sure about that last part. This man has trouble chasing him. Trouble you don't need."

Lissey touched the gloss to her lips and worked it into place, then turned away from the mirror. "Mama, if I'm ever going to get married I have to start dating. Consider this an experiment, a learning experience."

Lavinia frowned. "Then you have no feelings for this man?"

Lissey hesitated. If Lavinia only knew about the escapade on the beach. Not to mention how she really felt about Jake. How much should she reveal? "I like him, Mama, but I'm not madly in love."

"You love his daughter."

Ouch, that struck home. But best not to spill the truth on that either. "She's a darling child, of course, but I wouldn't be marrying her."

Lavinia smiled. "I always know when you're lying."

"Well, I wouldn't. And I'm just going on a date."

"Date, shmate. Remember Ramon."

Lissey kissed her mother. "I haven't forgotten, Mama. Now, someone's at the door."

Lavinia turned to the living room as Lissey's father opened the door. There stood Jake, wearing khaki slacks and a red shirt, preppy attire, and Emma, dressed in a print red sundress adorned with white flowers over a green and yellow striped Tee. Lavinia turned to Lissey and whispered, "Someone should talk to that man. Just look at the way that child is dressed. The colors don't go well at all."

"Don't be picky, Mama. She lives on a boat. They may be her only clean clothes," Lissey whispered back.

A few minutes later, Emma safely bestowed upon Lavinia and Sam for a few hours, her attire never mentioned, Jake gave Lissey a sweeping bow in front of the golf cart parked next to the house.

"Your chariot, Madame," he said with a smile.

"Chariot? What am I, a Roman warrior?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I was thinking more along the lines of Cinderella and her pumpkin coach."

Oh God, why did she say that? "I'm sorry. I seem to snap at you a lot."

"Oh?"

What was he doing? Pretending he hadn't noticed? Playing up to her? Trivializing the whole thing? That she didn't like but what to say next. "You know what I mean."

He took her arm and tried to ease her into the cart. She sat down. Reluctantly. He shouldn't have rented the cart; they could have walked to the Sea Horse. Oh Lord, picky, picky. She'd screwed this up royally and the night hadn't even begun.

He slid into the cart on the other side, turned, and met her eyes. "I know what you mean, yes, but we both snap on occasion. Maybe we're out of practice."

"What do you mean?"

"Dating. I haven't done it in a while."

He was giving her an out, a gracious escape.
Take it, fool. Be nice
. "You're right. I haven't either. But that time on the beach sort of–"

"It was a short cut, wonderful but a short cut." He gave her the most delightful smile. "Shall we go to dinner?" The golf cart lurched forward.

She didn't respond. Better to say nothing than the wrong thing again. A short cut? To what, sailing off with him? Her heart warmed at the memory of their "interview" earlier in the day. He was such a tease. She groaned inwardly. It was time she stopped treating him as if he were Ramon. He'd thrown the love word around like chips in a poker game.

"Penny for your thoughts," he said as they pulled up to the Sea Horse.

"I was thinking about Emma. She's a doll." No way could she tell him what was whirling through her brain. Though the tale of Cinderella had been on his mind before. Could he have remembered the glass slipper?

"She's been amazing through all this moving around and hiding out. I'm a lucky father," he said as he followed her inside.

"Hey Lissey, twice in one week," Henri called from the bar. "I'll have to reserve you a seat."

Lissey waved and headed in the direction of a table for two near the bar. "It's getting to be a habit, Henri."

Jake sent Henri a smile and sat down across from her. "Can I get you a drink? Want to split a bottle of wine?"

"Okay. Pinot Grigio?"

"I heard that. Coming up," Henri said.

Jake laughed. "No secrets on this island, I see."

"Only if you whisper."

"Do you whisper a lot?"

Lissey cocked an eyebrow. "You mean keep secrets? You know mine."

Jake nodded. "You mean Caroline. That's pretty heavy."

"I don't want to talk about her. Tell me about you."

"You know about my wife. That's my heavy stuff."

"You still love her."

He frowned. "In a way, yes. I suppose I always will."

She didn't say a word, simply chewed her lip.

"You're upset."

"Me? No I'm not."

He reached out and caressed her hand. "When somebody you love dies, your love doesn't evaporate, you know. You still love your baby daughter and you have feelings for my Emma too. Right?"

A smile spread across Lissey's face. "There's always room for someone new you mean."

He grinned. "Right on, my lady."

"Who's right?" Henri asked as he deposited a bottle and two glasses on their table.

"None of your business," Lissey said.

"You gotta watch out for her; she's nasty," the fat man said.

"Am not," Lissey said.

Henri leaned over and kissed her on the forehead then turned to Jake with a grin. "You've been warned." He headed back behind the bar.

Jake's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Vicious woman."

Lissey started then realized he was teasing again. "Am not."

"I know," he said softly. "You are a fascinating woman is what you are."

A tingle of embarrassment ran up her back. "I'm very ordinary."

"You said that before."

"Well, it's true."

He laughed. "Modest too. Hard as nails when you need to be, a pussycat when you think no one's looking."

"I am not hard."

"Get this boat off the gas dock," he quoted.

"Well, you shouldn't have tied up there."

"And you weren't going to let me get away with it."

He reached out and took her hand again, stroking it with his thumb. A jolt of electricity ran up her arm. They'd have to sneak out to the beach again tonight.

"Hey," Henri shouted from the bar.

Startled, she looked up in time to see Peter swing a chair at Jake's head. She screamed.

Jake ducked and threw his right arm up to protect himself. Too late, the chair slammed into his arm and his head with a sickening thud.

"I'll teach you. Messing with my woman," Peter snarled.

The big man brought the chair back for another swing.

"Stop it. You'll kill him. Stop it," Lissey shrieked as Jake slid to the floor.

"Grab him," Henri yelled and three patrons sitting at the bar jumped into action. Peter offered no resistance, simply staring at Lissey, a look of disbelief on his face. 

Lissey knelt beside Jake, hands trembling, her throat constricted with fear. Blood streamed from a gash on his forehead and another on his arm. "Jake? Are you all right?"

He lay unmoving, still as a board.

"Is he dead?" Henri asked anxiously. "We better call the constable."

Her chest heaving with anxiety, Lissey tentatively touched her hand to Jake's chest. It moved; he was breathing. "Get the midwife. Maria will know what to do."

"I'll find some clean towels for the bleeding," Henri said. He grabbed one of the others, a fisherman named Simon. "You go for Maria."

Lissey began to shake, tremors of emotion seizing her body. Jake couldn't die. What would happen to Emma? A rush of guilt swept over her. It wasn't only Emma; he simply didn't deserve to die. It wasn't fair, they were just getting to know each other. She glanced up.

A morose looking Peter sat parked on a bar stool, a fisherman to either side of him to be sure he didn't go after Jake again.

"You bastard. Idiot. Don't you ever come near me again. Idiot," Lissey shrieked. She found the almost empty wine bottle on the floor and charged him, wanting to smash his face in.

One of the men, Horace, stepped in front of her and caught her arm. "Easy Miss Lissey, don't make things worse. Let the constable handle him."

The words brought her back to reality. "No constable. Not if he lives." Wittingham would ask too many questions. Jake and Emma would be exposed. And they couldn't take him to hospital on the big island either. His future, Emma's, was entirely in her hands now. If he lived.

CHAPTER SIX

"Ow, that hurts," Jake muttered as Maria Sarano completed the last stitch in his scalp.

"Stay still. I've got to bandage your arm," Maria said.

"What hit me?"

"Big Peter. He didn't like you moving in on Lissey."

Looking for Lissey, he turned his head and grimaced. "Man. My head hurts."

"Don't move, Jake. Let her finish," Lissey said.

His glance fell on Lissey sitting beside him on the floor. "Hi beautiful. You okay? He didn't hurt you?"

Her heart sang. If the man was well enough to call her beautiful he would be all right. "I'm fine."

"Damn. First fight ever for a woman and I lost."

Maria stole a peek at Lissey's face and smiled. "I don't think so bub."

Lissey watched a smile spread across Jake's face. A burst of warmth touched her heart. The last half hour had been chaotic, frightening above all else. She hadn't had time to explore her feelings, simply to react. Henri had pressed towels on Jake's wounds to slow the bleeding until Maria arrived. Peter had been escorted out of the Sea Horse and told to go home. Lissey had said no constable, so that took care of any question about Peter's punishment. Little Casque didn't have a jail anyway.

And her feelings? Jake was her lover but was barely even a friend, yet he wanted to marry her, OMG. She'd seen bar fights at Henri's before but this had horrified her. Devastated her. Had she completely lost her heart to Jake Wainright? Was she ready to accept his offbeat proposal? Oh yes, yes indeed.

"Someone needs to keep watch on him tonight," Maria said. "We can't send him out on his boat by himself."

Jake gave her a groggy smile. "Aren't you the lady I rented the golf cart from today?"

Maria laughed. "That's me. Golf cart rentals, midwife, and island nurse."

"You do it all," Jake mumbled.

"Everything but a hospital. You going to take him home with you, Lissey?"

"Me? My mother would have a fit."

"Your dada would love it though," Maria said with a grin.

"I couldn't…" Lissey started, but then she looked at Jake with his stitches and the silly smile on his face. "Oh hell, how are we going to get him there?"

"We'll take him in the golf cart. I'll drive, you ride in the back and hold him up so he doesn't fall out," Maria said.

"That's all he needs, to fall out on his head."

"You better hang on tight."

****

Lissey opened one eye and studied the illuminated dial of her alarm clock. Ten to two, almost time to wake Jake up. She tried to recall exactly what Maria had said before she left. A quick look at each eye with the flashlight, make sure both eyes looked the same, no unusual dilation. Like she could tell? She laughed softly. Who was she to fuss; mothers did that all the time when their child whacked their head on something.

She pulled herself upright in the chair. As chairs went it was pretty nice, as a bed not so much, but it did what she wanted, waking her every so often so she could check Jake's eyes.

Thank God he had blocked part of the chair with his arm as Peter swung it at him. If he'd caught the full blow on his head, he might have died. As it was, she and Maria had to help him into the house when they got there tonight. And into her bedroom, with Lavinia on their heels, carping at them that he didn't belong there, he'd create gossip Lissey didn't need again. Lissey had worried more about Emma, who'd been quite upset at her dad's appearance.

They'd gotten her calmed down and put her to bed in Lydia's room. Grumbling to herself, Lavinia had finally given up her fussing and gone to bed. Here Lissey was, sleeping in her bedroom chair with Jake purring like a kitten in her bed. That was true, he didn't snore at all, just made a little quiet purring sound in his sleep.

It was time to check his eyes. She pushed up out of the chair and stood watching him in the dimness. Peaceful, relaxed, and handsome he was. Damn Peter; they should have been out on the beach about now.

She turned on the bedside lamp. His stitches weren't visible the way he was lying. You'd never know, looking at him, that he'd been hurt so badly.

"Jake, wake up. I have to check your eyes."

Nothing, no reaction. His breathing didn't even change.

"Jake, wake up," she said again, louder this time. She jabbed a finger into his back just below his ribs.

He stopped breathing for a beat or two then resumed the same soft rhythm.

This was not good. What if she couldn't wake him up? She grabbed his shoulder and shook it, hard. "Wake up! Wake up, you big dope," she shouted in his ear.

He rolled over slowly and stared up at her. "What the devil are you doing?"

"Getting you up so I can check your eyes. Come on, let me see you."

"For crying out loud, woman, take it easy will you?" he muttered, but he rolled over the rest of the way and frowned up at her.

Her breathing returned to normal, her pulse no longer pounded in her ears. He was alive and ornery. She'd been scared, afraid he'd die. She'd been afraid to lose him, or was it just the thought of a dead man in her bed?

"Are you going to check me out or should I just go back to sleep?"

"Oh. Be still and let me look at your eyes."

She bent over him with the flashlight and reached for his right eye. God, he smelled good. And his body heat reached out to her, a delightful warmth she could learn to love.

Her face was inches from his, and she had yet to touch his eyelid. Her heart had kicked up a bit, this time not from fear.

He smiled. "You okay?"

"What? Oh yes, sure." Her romantic inclinations stifled for the moment, she quickly completed the examination.

"Am I going to live?" he asked, still sporting that devilish smile.

"As far as I can tell."

Lissey straightened up and suddenly realized they were not alone.

"Is Daddy okay?" Emma said from the doorway, her hair in a sleep-time tangle, her eyes anxious.

"He's fine, sweetie," Lissey said as she got up from the edge of the bed. "What are you doing up?"

"You yelled at Daddy. I heard you."

"He's hard to wake up."

Emma made no reply, simply gave her father a wistful look.

Jake pushed back the thin summer coverlet. "Come on in, Tiger. You can sleep with me a while."

Lissey watched as the child clambered into the bed and snuggled up beside him. Her heart sank. Joining the Wainright family would not be easy.

Jake's eyes were clear when she shook him awake at 5:30. Not wanting to wake Emma, they whispered only a few words to each other before Lissey left him to put on fresh clothes and start baking for the day. She'd gotten a bit of decent sleep in Lydia's bed while Emma clung to her father, but her brain rocked with the fog of weariness as she rolled out pastries in the shop.

What to do. Jake's future was totally uncertain. Where would he end up, in the States, or floating around in that sailboat for the next twenty years on the run with Emma? After that little display of father-daughter togetherness at two in the morning, that possibility held no appeal even if he wanted her to be his wife. Would she turn him down for such a silly reason? She chuckled. Not a chance.

He almost made her forget Ramon's betrayal. Almost, but not quite. Peter's attack had roused her mothering instincts for Jake with the battered head, her caretaking genes. She had to face the other thing too. Having the man sleep in her bed was sort of sexy even if she wasn't in it with him. Who was kidding who, lust had grabbed her by the throat when she'd checked his eyes. Lust with him led to quite the most delightful of experiences.

She finished the two tarts she'd made for the day (one for him and one for Emma, that was all) and slid them into the oven.

She'd be all right if she stayed away from beds when he was around. And sandy beaches too. He'd probably still need her nursing skills, such as they were, for another day or two until the concussion settled down. She smiled. She seldom thought about the future before Jake came along, but now…

"You've got customers waiting."

Startled, Lissey turned toward the dining room.

Lavinia stood in the doorway, hands on hips, frowning. "Simon and Thomas are looking for their lunches."

"Oh, I'm half asleep this morning. Would you make them up for them?" Lissey said.

Her mother stepped into the kitchen and set to work.

Lissey glanced up at the clock. Six fifty two? "You're early this morning."

"Well," Lavinia said. "The way you were fussing over that man last night, I figured you didn't get much sleep. And, spending the night in a chair, I don't know."

"I slept. And I wasn't fussing. He's hurt."

"You have a short memory, my dear. You remember Ramon, the guy who got you in trouble and then disappeared?"

"Of course I remember."

"Perhaps you don't recall when he fell on his boat and hurt his ankle? You went to pieces over that."

Lissey's breath caught. "I moved out to the boat to take care of him."

Lavinia nodded. "You're a pushover when a man needs you. When you think he does."

Lissey sighed. "This is different, Mama. I'm responsible for Jake getting hurt."

"That's ridiculous. Peter hit him. Not you. The man wouldn't listen when you told him to leave you alone."

"It doesn't matter, Mama. I can make better decisions now."
And I want the man.

"Huh."

Responsible or not, a sucker for an injured guy, it all made no difference. She wasn't going to leave Jake to fend for himself in her own home. She stuffed the tarts into two small bags, tossed in a mango roti and took stock of her breakfast plans. There was juice at home in the fridge, so that would work for Emma.

"Take over for a while Mama. I'll be back in an hour."

Lavinia shook her head. "You're hopeless."

Hopeless, hopeful, just a smidgeon's difference. She chuckled as she left the shop. Enough of doubts and questions, she'd taken a page from Patti's book now. There was a light breeze in the air, perfect for setting full sails.

When she entered the house, she found Emma standing in the middle of the living room, looking rather lost. Her face broke out in a smile at the sight of Lissey.

"Hello, sweetie. Have you had breakfast yet?" Lissey asked.

Emma shook her head. "Daddy's sick. He went to sleep again."

Lissey dashed past the child and into her bedroom. Jake lay sprawled out on the bed, face down. She seized his shoulder and shook it. "Jake, wake up. Jake."

He rolled over slowly and opened one eye. "You really needed to shout like that?"

Lissey's heart slowed to a more normal beat. "I didn't shout. "
Did I?
"What's wrong?"

"Just more of the same. Splitting headache and the light kills my eyes."

"Did you try to get up?"

"I thought I'd make breakfast for Emma."

"I brought her a tart. You too. Stay in bed."

He cracked a half smile. "You're going to let me eat in bed? Get crumbs all over the place?"

"Just rest, will you."

"My wife used to do that. We'd have snacks before bedtime," he murmured.

A tiny tremor swept over her. That was the first time he'd referred to his Diane so casually. The first time he'd mentioned her name without emotion. She liked that. "I bet you made a big mess too."

His smile widened. "Disaster. Crumbs and peanut butter all over the place."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Well, this is a cherry tart. No cherries on my nice clean sheets."

He started to laugh, then groaned as his head lurched with the movement.

"You stay still," she said. "I'll be right back."

Minutes later, coffee ready in the coffee maker, Emma beside her in the kitchen, she relished the warmth still glowing in her heart after the exchange with Jake.

"Would you like to eat in here or with your daddy, Emma?" she asked.

The child cocked her head. "Will you eat with him?"

"I'll have coffee."

"Me too then," Emma said, looking quite happy at the prospect.

Lissey couldn't fathom her reaction. Was she pleased to share breakfast with Lissey and her father? It seemed so. A knock at the front door disrupted her musings.

"Would you answer that, Emma? Whoever it is, tell them I'll be there in a minute."

Lissey set the coffees, a glass of juice for Emma, and the tarts on a tray. "Who is it, Emma?"

Emma appeared at the kitchen doorway, her brow creased in a frown. "The lady with the books. She came in."