Wish on the Moon (19 page)

"Mitch would see merit in the idea," Ray
argued. "Remember, he's the one who brought you here."

"I know," she said, unable to keep the
sadness from her voice. It would have meant so much more for her
father to have called her himself.

As if guessing her thoughts, he said, "I
never thought you'd come. Not after I didn't answer your
letters."

Laura's throat tightened. Her dad had never
explained himself. "Why didn't you?"

Deep lines emphasized Ray's age and what he'd
been through the in the past few weeks. "I was still angry about--"
He stopped. "I thought you'd come running home."

Laura sent him a disbelieving look. "When you
didn't bother to answer me?"

"Where else would you go? Once you were home,
I thought we'd settle our differences."

She couldn't help wondering if she became a
partner and did something he disapproved of, would he disown her
again? She couldn't deal with that a second time. But if she
brought that up, they'd have to discuss why she left. They were
just starting to mend their relationship. She didn't want to put a
wall between them again because of a past that couldn't be
changed.

Her father's face was expectant.

"I'm sorry. I can't accept your offer," she
said tightly, wishing it could be different.

Ray didn't ask why, just as he hadn't asked
what she was feeling after her mother died, just as he hadn't asked
her how she felt when he cut her out of his life. "There are other
changes I want to make, too. If I have a fatal heart attack, I want
Mitch to have more than the partnership agreement."

She couldn't imagine her dad not sitting
behind this desk, not barking orders. Even when she was in Ohio,
she'd known he was somewhere. If he died... Tears pricked in her
eyes. She blinked, swallowed, and tried to speak, but her father's
next words forestalled her.

"If you're not interested in moving back to
York and becoming a partner, I'm going to make a new will." Ray's
chair squeaked as he leaned back. "You will, of course, inherit the
house and my personal possessions. You would also receive a stipend
from profits. But I want to leave the business to Mitch if you
don't want to be a part of it."

If he'd expected her to be shocked, she
wasn't. It was only fair. Mitch had worked beside her father for
the last four years. He was more than a partner to Ray. He'd become
a son to him as well. Laura didn't feel jealous, but she did feel
an overwhelming sense of loss. Personal loss.

She didn't need the business. She was happy
with her life. Mitch did need it. It was his future and she
couldn't take it away from him. Staying in York was impossible,
unless...

Unless Mitch trusted her wholeheartedly and
asked her to stay himself. Fat chance. "If you feel you need to,
have the papers drawn up."

"You won't reconsider?"

She wondered if this was simply a ploy of
Ray's to shake her up and make her change her mind. "Not as things
stand now."

He gave her a probing look, but didn't press.
"I won't do anything until you leave. I've waited this long, I can
wait a little longer. Then if you change your mind..."

Tears welled in her eyes. Was this her dad's
way of reaching out? Why couldn't he ever admit he cared for her?
Loved her? "I'll let you know," she murmured, then turned away from
her father and left the office.

She needed to see Mandy and hug her. She
needed to talk to George and Anne, to reassure herself she belonged
in Independence with people who loved her, who trusted her and who
depended on her.

***

Mitch paced the kitchen, trying to make
himself immune to the pleading in Carey's eyes. "I can't give you
the money."

"Can't or won't?"

"I've given you money before."

"This is a loan."

Damn! First the mess he'd made of the trip
with Laura, now this. He hadn't been able to think of anything but
Laura since the night he'd almost made love to her. Every time he
looked at her, remembered the way she'd felt in his arms, under his
hands, he wanted to scoop her up, carry her to his bedroom and make
love to her until his need for her was fulfilled. Maybe if he went
ahead and did it, he could get her out of his mind. The more he
fought the attraction, the more it gripped him. But he didn't
believe in using a woman, and that's what it would be.

Just like Carey was trying to use him for the
umpteenth time in their lives. Carey had lessons to learn. He
wouldn't learn them if Mitch continued to give him handouts and
clean up the consequences. "How many loans have I given you?"

Carey blushed and mumbled, "I don't
know."

"Guess." His brother had to face facts.

"Nine, ten, twelve. I don't remember. But I
guess you have them all written down in a ledger."

A stab of pain jabbed Mitch. He loved Carey.
Their father's behavior and attitude had put a wedge between them,
just as Carey's mistakes had put Mitch in the position of rescuer.
Did Carey resent that? Couldn't he see everything Mitch had done,
everything he was doing now was because he loved Carey?

"No, I haven't kept track. Carey, you need to
take responsibility for what you do. Go to work. Save the money
before you spend it. Then you don't have to answer to anyone."

Carey dropped his head and ran his hands over
the edge of the table. "Just one more time, Mitch. I promise I'll
never ask you again."

It wasn't the asking Mitch minded, or the
giving. It was the wasting. He regretted his own weakness where
Carey was concerned. He'd bent over backwards to show his brother
he didn't blame him for the accident. Had he been wrong?

Mitch said the words he had to say. "I won't
give you the money."

Carey's pale blue eyes filled with
supplication. "Do I have to crawl?"

Mitch's heart turned over in his chest.
"Don't do this."

"Right. Don't make life any harder for you.
You've hated me since I..." He stared at Mitch's cheek.

Mitch stood perfectly still. It hurt to
swallow. "I don't hate you. I didn't then and I don't now."

Carey's chair scraped as he pushed back and
stood, his words angry. "Don't worry, brother. I'll never ask you
for anything again."

Carey exited the kitchen and Mitch heard the
front door bang. He felt as if he'd lost someone, and he wondered
if this was how Ray had felt when Laura walked out of his life.

***

The following day, Mitch ran the knife down
the middle of a box and lifted out a silver-plated tray.

Laura came into the office and went straight
to the small refrigerator in the corner. She took out a container
of yogurt and turned without meeting his eyes.

"Is that lunch?" Mitch asked. He hated the
tension between them. This was his first day back in the York store
with Laura and they were being so careful around each other it
hurt.

"You could say that."

When she lifted her gaze to his, he couldn't
tell what she was thinking. That was unusual. The fact that he'd
put the shuttered look there generated guilt. "Let's take a break
and have a nice lunch. The Bistro in the next block has fresh
croissant sandwiches."

"You want to have lunch with me?" Her tone
was puzzled.

"Sure. We're both hungry." He pulled his
topcoat from the coatrack and handed Laura her poncho, then
frowned. "This is what you wore today?"

"It's all I have here."

"I thought Anne sent winter clothes."

"She forgot my coat. This is fine."

Mitch didn't agree, but he held his tongue.
Winter hadn't waited for Thanksgiving as it usually did in
south-central Pennsylvania. The last week had been unseasonably
cold. Thanksgiving. Two weeks away. This year with Laura and Mandy
here, maybe Ray could enjoy it.

As soon as they stepped outside and the wind
whipped them, Mitch muttered, "It's only thirty-two degrees out
here." He cupped her elbow. "Let's take a detour." Turning her
around, he headed her down the street in the opposite
direction.

"Where are we going?"

"This will only take a few minutes." At her
perplexed look, he said, "You're the one who likes surprises. Come
on."

Keeping her head down against the wind,
apparently Laura didn't realize where he was taking her until the
bell over the door tinkled behind her and plush carpet softened
their steps. The smell of leather wound around them and she sent
Mitch an inquiring look.

He guided her to a rack with full-length
leather coats and pulled out a rich forest green one with a hood.
"Try it on."

Mitch had bought his jacket here. This coat
was as supple and soft as his. Leather would suit Laura perfectly.
It would enhance her sensuality. Of course, that might not be such
a great idea. He had enough trouble with her appeal now.

"I can't afford this," she protested.

"It's a gift." Her gray eyes softened and he
wanted to tug her into his arms and simply hold her.

"I can't accept it."

He could see she wanted to and not simply
because she needed a coat, but because it came from him. "If Anne
and George gave you a present, you wouldn't give it back, would
you?"

"That's different. Why would you want to give
me a present when you think the only reason I want to get close to
you is to take control of the business?"

The hurt in her voice was evident and Mitch
felt lower than a sinkhole. He looked around to see if anyone was
listening. Across the room the sales clerk was ringing up a sale at
the cash register. Two ladies were at a nearby rack. "Must we have
this conversation here?"

"If you want me to try on this coat we
must."

He sighed and turned his back on the two
women. "Laura, to tell you the truth, I don't know what I believe
any more." He thought about things differently since he'd met her.
He knew he'd never been in love with Denise. He realized he'd
denied most of the pain in his childhood. He acknowledged he kept
his feelings hidden. And now, he wondered what had actually
happened between Laura and Ray.

"I'm not trying to take control of the
business," she said. "Dad asked me to stay and manage the York
store if he retires. I refused. I'm going back to Ohio in three
weeks."

Mitch felt as if he'd been kicked in the gut.
Her decision meant she had no ulterior motive. She wanted no part
of the business. It also meant she would be leaving. That prospect
didn't give him an iota of the relief he'd once thought it would.
She'd become a fire in his blood he couldn't extinguish or ignore.
He didn't know if that was interfering with his judgment or
directing it.

Recovering, he said, "Then you have to accept
this as a going away present. You need it now. It's early."

Indecision played in her eyes. "Cloth would
be fine."

"But not as warm. Trust me. This is just what
you need for an Independence winter too." When she still looked as
if she might refuse, he said softly, "Let me do this, Laura. I've
given you some rough moments."

She smiled, the first genuine smile he'd seen
since Flagstaff. "They're over? You're going to be agreeable and
compliant from now on?"

"As much as you are," he quipped. He took the
coat from the hanger and held it for her.

She slipped her arms into the sleeves. He
lifted her hair, holding it a moment longer than necessary before
he let it flow softly onto the closed hood.

Laura wrapped the coat around herself
reverently as if it was mink. When she belted it, her hands
caressed the leather.

Mitch's breaths became shallower. He'd like
to wrap himself around her as closely as the coat, mold to her,
stroke her. Hell. What would that get him? In three weeks, she'd be
gone. Flings weren't his style. And Laura? She lived in the moment.
An affair might be acceptable to her. Her response in the hotel
suite seemed to indicate as much. But the more he told himself to
stay away, the more he was drawn to her.

"What do you think?" he asked, loving the way
the deep color emphasized and complemented the golden highlights in
her hair.

She turned around, her eyes sparkling with
silver lights. "It feels wonderful!"

He pointed to the side wall. "Go look in the
mirror."

She walked toward the three-way mirror, the
coat swaying around her as if it was made for her. It moved with
her, against her, for her.

After facing the mirror head on, she turned
to the left, then to the right. Her smile grew wider by the minute.
Pulling the hood up, she buttoned the collar to achieve the full
effect. She put her hands in the pockets. She pulled them out.
Pirouetting in a circle, she let the leather lap against her
calves.

Returning to where Mitch was standing, she
let down the hood. "It's a beautiful coat."

"You look beautiful in it." The huskiness of
his voice surprised him.

Her eyes combed his face. "I could use a new
winter coat, I suppose."

"It's yours."

"No, that wasn't what I meant. What if I pay
half?"

"Nope." When he saw her open her mouth to
protest, he added, "But you can pay me back another way."

Instantly she was wary. "How?"

"My jewelry exhibition is Friday night. Go
with me to Harrisburg." The look in her eyes made his heart jump
crazily.

"That's it? That's not a payback. I'd love to
see your work. I've wanted to since I arrived."

"You'll be giving me moral support," he said,
trying to make the deal sound two-sided.

"As if you need it. Dad told me last year you
sold every piece that one night."

"This year might be different. The public is
economically conscious and...fickle."

Her fingers lovingly stroked one lapel as she
looked down at the deep green leather. "And you think this is a
fair trade?"

He kept a serious expression.
"Absolutely."