Satin Sheets and Strawberries (5 page)

The sight of crystal-blue water sparkling in the bright morning sun caused Logan to pause. The pond was larger than he had first imagined. A half-dozen Canadian geese floated lazily by a weathered lopsided dock on the far side of the pond. A brilliant flash of red caught his attention. Fifty yards in front of him sat Kelli. She was dressed in her old boots, bomber jacket, and a pair of worn jeans. A thick red knitted band held back her flying blond hair and kept her ears warm. A tender smile curved his mouth as the soft melody of a lullaby reached his ears. Kelli was singing to the large white swan who was lying with its head resting in her lap. Kelli gently smiled at Caer as she tenderly stroked the great bird’s feathers and sang. Angus was proudly standing guard in the rough lean-to Kelli had constructed for them. Safely behind him was the bird’s pride and joy. Five whitish eggs lay nestled in the large nest at the back of their home.

It had taken Kelli ten minutes of singing softly before she could coax Caer off her nest. Now the bird snuggled closer to her and basked in her accomplishment—motherhood. Kelli was just about to segue into her rendition of "Silence Is Golden" when a twig snapped behind her. A flurry of activity erupted. Caer practically flew back to the nest while Angus dove for the kill.

Kelli scrambled to her feet and spotted Logan. The two furious swans were angrily hissing. "Logan, get back," she yelled above the noise of the birds. She saw him hesitate. "Please, Logan. I’ll meet you at the fork in the path in five minutes."

Logan stared at the angry male swan and agreed retreat was the safest course of action. How could such a lovely bird have such a vicious nature? Without breaking eye contact with the swan, he backed up the path, putting a safe distance between them before turning around to walk back to the fork in the path.

Several minutes later, Kelli wearily sat down next to Logan on an old tree stump. "Good morning, Logan. How’s it feel to still have both your feet?"

He gingerly wiggled his toes. "Lucky."

Kelli allowed a small smile to curve her lips before she frowned. "Obviously I forgot to mention the swans to you. They’re off limits. Caer just laid five eggs, and you already met the proud papa, Angus. Normally they are not aggressive, but under the circumstance I’m sure you understand."

Logan studied her wind-tossed hair and rosy cheeks. Her skin glowed in the bright morning light and her lips were slightly turned down at the corners. He had a sudden urge to kiss that pout away. How would a fairy queen kiss? he wondered. Would it be as soft as a butterfly’s caress, or as consuming as a raging inferno?

He tore his gaze from her appealing lips and stared off into the surrounding woods. What was he thinking? How could he even contemplate kissing Kelli? She was the enemy. She held some magical power over his family, and he wanted them back the way they were. Now, without even lifting an eyebrow, she was using her "glamour" on him. Well, it wasn’t going to work. Normally he wouldn’t even be attracted to her; not that she wasn’t beautiful, not that she didn’t have a body worth fantasizing about. But she was totally unbalanced.

His voice was harsh with self-disgust. "Sorry. I won’t bother the swans again. I only came to ask you if it’s okay for me to help Henry cut down some limbs or trees."

Kelli heard the harshness in his voice, and looked at him, bewildered. "Can you use a chain saw?"

"Of course," snapped Logan.

Puzzled by his sudden ill mood she gentled her voice and said, "Thank you. The saw, gas, and safety glasses are in the shed behind the house."

Logan stood up and glared at her. Where was her backbone? Here he was practically shouting at her and she meekly thanked him. Her large hazel eyes looked at him, confused. An overwhelming desire to pull her into his arms and comfort her raced through him. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets instead. "You don’t have to thank me. I’m only earning my keep."

Kelli watched as Logan stomped down the path without a backward glance. A sudden gust of frigid air blew through the trees. She pulled her legs up on the stump, and wrapped her arms around jean-clad knees. What had happened? One minute he was smiling about still having his two feet and the next he was demanding to cut down trees. One minute he looked ready to kiss her and the next he looked as though she had sprouted two heads.

For one insane moment she wondered what Logan’s kiss would have felt like. She shook her head and laughed. Her imagination really must be working overtime. She must have misread the emotion that flared in his brown eyes. It probably was indigestion.

Kelli slowly stood up and for a moment stared down the same path Logan had taken. Then she quickly turned and headed in the opposite direction. She jammed her cold hands into the pockets of her jacket, quickened her pace, and muttered one word, "Distance." Logan would be returning to a foreign desert filled with black gold soon, and her life would settle back into its normal hectic pace. They were enemies. Both wanted something the other had, and there could only be one winner. Ruth and Henry were hers. She’d won them when their family had forfeited them. Logan didn’t scare her one bit.

She refused to listen to the soft voice whispering in her ear, Why are you headed in the opposite direction if he doesn’t scare you?

#

Logan pushed the peas around the mound of mashed potatoes and lined them up against the pork chop sitting on his plate. He scowled. "Isn’t she going to join us for dinner?" he asked Ruth.

Ruth hid her smile as she looked from Kelli’s empty chair to Logan’s untouched dinner. "She’s painting in the shop. She told me to wrap her plate and she would heat it up later."

"Does she skip dinner often?"

Henry leaned back in his chair and studied his nephew. Amusement glistened in his eyes. Ruth might be right about Logan and Kelli. "Can’t say that she ever has before."

With a frustrated sigh Logan pushed his plate away. Kelli had been avoiding him since that morning. It was no wonder; he’d practically snapped her head off. Twice he’d gone looking for her to apologize, only to come up empty-handed. This time he’d face her in her lair, say his piece and hopefully she would come for dinner. He handed Ruth his full plate. "Could you please wrap this and put it with Kelli’s. We’ll be back later for it."

After Logan left, Henry waited by the door, chuckling. "By all the saints, I think you’re right, Ruth. I’ve never seen Logan so upset over nothing."

A smile touched Ruth’s wrinkled face and a blush of excitement tinted her cheeks. "Wouldn’t it be wonderful if they fell in love? Then we could live here with Logan and Kelli."

Henry reached out with his large hand and gently covered her smaller blue-lined one. "Don’t get your hopes up, love. Let nature run its course."

"You’re right." She sighed wistfully. "But wouldn’t they have the most beautiful babies you ever saw?"

Henry’s chuckle sounded across the room as the pet door swung open and a blast of cold air whipped across the linoleum floor. "I guess one of the cats just went out?" he said.

Ruth’s brow wrinkled into confusion. "That’s funny. I could have sworn all the cats were already out."

#

Logan glared at the warped door and wondered how to begin this conversation. With more determination than finesse, he threw open the door and announced, "We have to talk." Kelli dipped the brush into a delicate shade of pink and painted a whimsical smile on the statue in front of her. Tinkerbell’s sudden movement caught her attention. There was only one person who caused Tinkerbell to smile like that—Logan. So he’d finally caught up with her. She knew he had been looking for her earlier, but she had purposely avoided him. She wasn’t sure why; she put it down to self-preservation.

Reluctantly she slowly pulled the earphones out of her ears and turned toward her intruder. "Logan?"

He noticed she wore the same paint-smeared sweatshirts and gloves as the day before. The kerosene heater was on full blast, attempting to combat the drafts.

"You didn’t come in for dinner."

"I wasn’t hungry. I told Ruth that I’d be in later."

"She told me." He closed the door behind him. The only lantern was above her worktable, and he stayed in the shadows. "Why are you avoiding me?" he asked, studying her.

She watched the darkened figure, and masked the sudden anger that shot through her. How dare he come into her home and threaten to take the one thing she held dear and then accuse her of avoiding him? She calmed herself, drawing from a lesson she’d learned years ago in various foster homes. When confronted with a force more powerful than yourself, do the complete opposite of what is expected. It confuses the enemy. "Why would I be avoiding you? I have a lot of painting that has to be done before the park opens. Why don’t you pull up a crate and we could have a nice talk while I work?"

Logan watched as she turned around and began to paint a blush onto a fairy. With a shrug he reached for an empty crate that he thought might hold his weight. He dragged it nearer to the heater and closer to Kelli. After several moments of silence he asked, "Did you major in painting at school?"

Kelli finished the fairy’s eyelashes before answering. "I was in the art club during high school. I only had a year and a half at a local community college."

"That’s when Ben died, wasn’t it?"

She stared at the man sitting less than three feet away from her. "Have you been checking up on me?"

"No, just listening to Ruth and Henry sing your praises."

"Ah, and that bothers you?" A knowing smile touched her lips.

"Immensely."

"Why?"

"Because I came here determined to rescue my aunt and uncle, only to discover they don’t need rescuing. They are perfectly happy here. I haven’t seen any signs of overwork or neglect. In fact I have to say you have gone out of your way to make a home for them."

"Thank you."

"Don’t thank me yet." He decided to change the subject. "I want to know who cleaned the living room last night."

With a grimace Kelli quickly dabbed at the grotesque smirk she had given the fairy. She concentrated on the mistake as she asked, "Who cleaned what?"

"The living room. Sometime between last night and this morning it magically cleaned itself."

She turned and faced him. "Don’t be silly, Logan. Living rooms don’t automatically straighten themselves." Frustration caused his voice to grow louder. "I know that. Ruth claims she didn’t clean it. Did you?"

"Why would I clean the room? It would hurt Ruth’s feelings if I went around doing her job."

"If you didn’t do it, who did?"

Kelli turned her attention back to the unfinished fairy, hiding her smile. She hadn’t actually lied to Logan, just twisted the truth. "Are you sure someone cleaned the room?"

"Yes." After a moment’s hesitation he added, "At least I think so. There were newspapers piled on the coffee table."

"And someone moved them?"

"Yes."

A gentle smile curved her lips as she faced Logan again. "I’m sorry, Logan, but moving a pile of newspapers doesn’t constitute a cleaning. I’m sure Ruth must have moved the newspapers. She probably never connected that with cleaning the room." She watched him frown and asked, "Was anything else done?"

"Well, maybe dusting."

A small chuckle escaped her throat. "How do you maybe dust?"

Logan ran a hand over his jaw. She was right. He couldn’t explain exactly what was done, just that the room looked cleaner. No furniture had been moved, the doorknobs still lined the cabinet in the same order, and the wood basket was stacked as high as ever. Just a pile of newspapers had been moved. "Forget it. I must still be suffering from jet lag."

Kelli clamped her lower lip between her teeth to keep from laughing. "No problem."

"Can I ask a personal question?"

"Sure," she said, wearily, "but that doesn’t mean I have to answer."

"Fair enough. Why do you collect doorknobs?"

She laughed out loud. "I wasn’t expecting that question."

"What question were you expecting?"

"I’m not sure." A wistful smile touched her mouth. "A lot of people collect keys; they can unlock a pleasant surprise, or lock in something evil. Doorknobs hold the same power. All it takes is a twist of your wrist and, presto, you’ve opened a door to the other side. Master craftsmen have been making doorknobs for centuries. Today’s doorknobs hold no creativity. They’re a run off the same press—some are chrome and some are brass, but they are all the same. Years ago people cared about details. Doorknobs are just another small detail that slipped through the system."

"I’ve noticed that no two doorknobs in your house are the same."

"No two rooms in the house are the same, so why should the doorknobs be?"

He chuckled. "Point taken."

When she bent her head and outlined the dark seductive eyes of a water nymph, he noticed how really beautiful the painter was. Intelligence and health sparkled in her eyes and her cheeks held a rosy glow. Her straight white teeth worried her lower lip as she delicately painted sweeping eyebrows on the enchantress cradled on her lap. A sudden urge to taste those lips came over him. He was just rising to his feet when Tinkerbell started to bark frantically.

Kelli turned around and stared at Tinkerbell. The dog was barking at thin air. Nothing was there. "Tinkerbell, stop that."When the dog continued to howl, she pulled the whistle from under her sweatshirt and gently blew into it. Abruptly Tinkerbell stopped her wailing and walked over and plopped her head into Kelli’s lap. "Good doggie."

Bewildered, Logan asked, "What was she barking at?"

"I don’t know. Probably a mouse." Lovingly, she petted the animal, silently praising her for her bravery. After a few strokes, Tinkerbell raised her head and looked around the shed. Seeing nothing, she strolled a few feet away and flopped down on the cracked cement and went back to sleep. "I guess we are safe now." There was laughter in Kelli’s voice.

Logan stared at her. He wondered who was safe. He surely wasn’t. He was about to fraternize with the enemy. "Kelli?"