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Coming Home To You (Man From Yesterday 1) Page 12
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She had his full attention now. “That would sure solve a problem for me. You serious?”
“Of course. You like one of my ideas?” The surprise on her pretty face made him laugh.
She kicked the toe of one sneaker into the gravel. Kate had sure changed. What had caused this uncertainty? Her ex-husband? Cole’s fists tightened. He’d like to punch the guy.
“Natalie will love our bookcase. Mom can’t go down to the beach, of course, but I come home early. We can hit the beach then.” Prissy wandered over, and Kate ran one hand down the dog’s back.
How nuts was it to envy his own dog? Prissy closed her eyes under Kate’s hand, and Cole totally understood. He’d do the same if given half a chance. “I appreciate your offer. Can I think about it?”
“Sure, but school’s over in two weeks, Cole. You better have a plan.”
Her bossiness was back. “You always were a girl with a schedule. Funny what you forget.”
“Sure is.” Kate crossed her slim arms under her breasts, as if trying to hold them. A Herculean gesture and he didn’t even want to go there.
A truck roared past, and he became very interested in the license plate from Wisconsin. He may have forgotten a lot, but what he remembered made his body temperature spike like mid-July. He’d been a bumbling senior that night, and nothing much had happened.
“How do you and Marie get along?” Glancing up, Kate squinted against the morning sun.
He blew out a breath. “Takes some effort, but she doesn’t have anyone else and Samantha hardly ever comes home from California. My mother-in-law’s welcome in my home.”
He saw the question in Kate’s eyes. Knew what was coming and wanted to avoid it at all costs. He got tired of explaining Samantha’s situation. “Haven't been in your house in a long time. But as I remember it, you had a pantry that pretty much became a catch-all after your mom had those cupboards put up.”
“I’m surprised you remember.”
“Wouldn't take much to turn that pantry into a bathroom. I’d appreciate it if you’d let me do it. Then I’d feel that I was contributing something. You know your mom’s never going to let me pay her for watching Natalie. She’s like you. Stubborn.”
Kate gave him a look, like he was gum on her shoe. “You’re not getting the property, Cole Campbell. So don’t go getting any ideas about sweet-talking my mother.”
His gut clenched. “Good God, Kate. That’s not what I intended at all.”
Kate studied the pine trees behind them. “Sorry. My sister’s left me a little sensitive when it comes to Breezy Point.”
Cole wasn’t used to seeing Kate so subdued. Like she carried bruises that didn’t show. “Why don't I stop by soon? Take a look at it and we can get to work. A good bargain for both of us.”
“You might not be telling me that by the end of the summer.” Her smile was back. “I’ll let you know if there are any problems.”
He chuckled. “You always do.”
In high school, Kate Kennedy had been a whirlwind — competent, sharp as a tack and good at everything. And she always spoke her mind. You knew where you stood with that girl. Now? He didn’t know anymore.
“What's that supposed to mean?” Her hands captured her hips. Full hips, tiny waist.
He had to look up, focus on those eyes. “Nothing.” Thank God she hadn’t noticed the damp spot on the front of his jeans. “Everything. You were good at everything.”
She heaved a sigh, like being competent was a big burden. “Okay, so maybe I was an overachiever.”
“Nothing wrong with being capable.”
“Capable. How exciting.” She twined a length of hair tight around her finger.
“Looks like you and Mercedes are having a difference of opinion. That’s all.” He wanted to clear the air, as if diesel fumes billowed around them.
Her eyes studied his face, and he shifted. Kate could still make him feel restless. So many layers to this woman.
“My sister and I don’t always see eye to eye,” she admitted slowly, “but it's nothing we can't handle. I think it’s safe to say we won’t be giving up Breezy Point anytime soon.”
He held both hands up flat. “Honest, I had no idea your family hadn’t reached agreement about that property.”
“And when we do, it will be my mother’s decision.”
“I understand totally.” No way did he want to step in this pile of poop.
The sun was peeking over the tall trees on the back of the lot and hit her face just right. Prissy started sniffing Kate, pressing into areas that were definitely personal and off-limits.
“Priscilla!”
Prissy sighed and settled into the grass. Just thought I’d scout the area, Cole.
Crouching, Kate stroked Prissy’s head. “You tell your boss to ease up,” she murmured. That did it for the stupid dog. She closed her eyes and rolled over. Kate patted Prissy’s tummy.
His skin tingled and Prissy sighed. Kate’s sure got great hands. Just thought I’d mention it.
“It's not your fault, Cole.” Glancing up, Kate pierced him with eyes like toothpicks. “Mercedes might have her reasons for wanting to sell the property, but Breezy Point belongs to my mother. Always has and the old house brings her comfort.”
Suddenly, the day wasn't so fresh. The sun, not so bright. “Look, I'm not trying to sell your mom’s house out from under her.”
Kate didn’t look convinced. Jumping up, she grabbed one of the large flats and began arranging the blue and red flowers. Prissy rolled back onto her stomach, sighing with contentment. “Guess I should get to work. Remind Natalie I’ll be at the library tomorrow.”
“Again, I appreciate you helping Natalie out with the books.” Well, heck, might as well come clean. “With everything, actually. Natalie likes you, and Marie doesn't always have the most gentle touch.”
“I understand. Thanks.” She ran her hands down her jeans. He shrugged out of his jacket. The sun had returned, and man, it was hot.
The main door of the store rolled up with a rattle, and Ignacio waved to him.
“See you later.” Cole escaped, Prissy trotting behind him. Ignacio was wearing jeans, but they sure didn’t look as good as the ones on Kate.
Cole looked back. Just once.
Once to last him all day.
~~
Reshelving books at the library that Wednesday, Kate ended up jamming Robert Ludlum in with Charlotte Bronte. Where was her mind?
She knew where it was. And she couldn’t snap out of it. Maybe she should give up and go home to Breezy Point. But would she just end up on the porch swing, thinking way too much about Cole Campbell? Hadn’t she done enough of that in high school?
Besides, Natalie was coming in. Time to be a grown up. A role model.
Then Kate spied the book on human sexuality. Wasn’t this the non-fiction favorite she and Sarah had spent hours giggling over as sophomores? They’d slide the illustrated book inside a geometry text, turning the pages slowly and studying positions as foreign as congruent angles.
So long ago. Seemed silly.
But the response of her body told her otherwise.
Images of Cole Campbell consumed her. The strong thighs in those jeans, the jacket across his broad shoulders. He wasn’t some pretty boy who wouldn't get his hands dirty. No, Kate imagined Cole’s hands were rough from work, rasping palms that could awaken all kinds of feeling in a woman. Her skin tingled and she tucked “Human Sexuality” back into the stacks.
This foolishness had to stop. Her cheeks burned. That morning at the flower stand, a customer had asked her what the velvety fuchsia flowers were. “C-c-cockscombs!” Kate had blurted out.
The woman’s jaw dropped. She plunked the bouquet back into the tub of water as if the flowers were live firecrackers.
Sucking in a breath, Kate tried to explain. “Put them in the sun, and they’ll plump out. I mean, grow. Very firm stems. They need to be kept warm and drained. That is, planted in soil that drains well.�
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Put a cork in it, girl. Tongue-tied and embarrassed, she’d pressed her hands to her thighs to get them to stop shaking.
The customer left with marigolds and geraniums — much safer, their needs simpler. Kate didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Chili had roared when Kate shared the story. “Chica, you are coming into your own.”
Now, what the heck did that mean? Had she been dull in high school?
When she found herself jamming a book by Ruth Rendell into fiction and not mysteries, Kate gave herself a good shake.
“Hi, Kate. I'm here.”
She wheeled around to see Natalie's sweet face.
“Well, hello. So you made it.”
“Uh-huh.” Natalie wore a yellow sweatshirt today with her blue jeans instead of one of those exotic tops Marie seemed to favor.
“How did you like Ramona?” Beverly Cleary's heroine had always given Kate a lot of laughs.
“She’s really bad, isn’t she?” Natalie’s eyes sparkled with mischief. Kate imagined the eight-year-old could be quite a handful for Cole and her grandmother.
“How about another Ramona book?”
“Okay. Sure.” Natalie nodded.
After strolling into the middle school section, Kate scrutinized the popular series. “Ramona and Her Mother.” She moved on. So much that Kate didn’t know about that relationship. “How about ‘Ramona and Her Father?’”
“Naw.” To Kate’s surprise, Natalie screwed up her face and plucked out another Cleary book. “Emily’s Runaway Imagination” had a horse on the cover.
“You like horses?”
“Sure. I guess.” Natalie hitched a skinny shoulder. Her gaze drifted back to “Ramona and Her Mother.”
“I loved ‘Misty of Chincoteague.’ ” Only took Kate a couple of minutes to find the gray soft-sided book.
The loveable brown and white pony on the cover brought a smile. “A pony! Aw, he’s so cute.”
“When I was your age, we all wanted a horse like Misty. I was always sketching ponies on my school papers.”
“Did your parents get you one?” Natalie asked, her father’s blue eyes blinking wider. Clearly the little girl thought all things were possible for Kate.
“Oh, no.” Kate’s throat tightened when she thought back to when she was Natalie’s age. All those arguments filtering through closed doors. “My family didn't have the money.”
“Me neither,” Natalie said with resignation.
“You know, a stable just up the road offers riding. At least, I think it’s still there. When I was old enough to babysit and had my own money, my dad would take me.”
“Lucky duck. Sounds like fun. Does your dad live here too?”
Kate swallowed. “No, my dad’s in heaven. He died a while back.”
Natalie’s warm palm on Kate’s hand brought a lump to her throat. “Sorry, Kate.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.” Kate squeezed Natalie’s hand and wondered if losing Samantha had brought this amazing maturity.
Then Natalie went back to leafing through “Misty.” Kate wondered if that’s why the girl really liked to read. Growing up, Kate discovered books provided relief from problems she could never solve.
As she read, Natalie nibbled a fingernail. Kate felt the urge to correct her but ignored it. Cole’s daughter seemed so fragile.
“Listen, I might not be volunteering here anymore, not for a while at least. The flower stall is taking way more time than I anticipated.” What an understatement. Natalie looked so crushed that Kate hurried ahead. “But I'd still like to work with you and your reading. I mean, we have tons of books no one reads anymore.”
“Can I borrow them sometime?” Natalie asked shyly.
“That's why I’m mentioning it.”
Natalie beamed. “Great. Tell my dad, okay?”
“Absolutely.” Cole could explain the summer plans.
Kate went back to shelving, and Natalie took her books to the front desk.
When it was time for Cole to pick up his daughter, Natalie waved good-bye and disappeared through the glass door. Kate held back. She didn’t need one more glimpse of Cole to feed the fantasies that came way too frequently. She’d had the strangest dream last night and he’d played a starring role.
“So nice that she still enjoys printed books.” Mildred stood at the door.
“Right.” Kate wondered if Natalie had an electronic reader.
When six o'clock came, she helped Mildred close up. Then she climbed into Bonita and headed for the care center to discuss details for the summer.
Tiger lilies grew thick in the ditches along Red Arrow Highway—a good sign. Lately, they’d had just enough rain to coax the orange blooms open. They’d probably have plump blueberries in July. If spring was dry, the blueberries came in late, small and hard.
Traffic had picked up along the old highway, a sure sign that the Chicago people were back. Reaching the care center, she parked and jumped out. Harold sat rocking in his chair, Chicago Cubs cap on backwards.
“Evening, Kate.”
“Evening, Harold. Like the new hat.”
He grinned. Kate suspected he understood far more than he ever let on.
Kate found her mother in the dining room, finishing up her pot roast and mashed potatoes. “They give you so much food,” her mother grumbled as she struggled to her feet. “Pretty soon I’ll need bigger pants. Feel like one of those Christmas geese.”
“That’s a good problem to have.” Kate held the walker while her mother found her balance.
“You’re so late today.”
“Went to the library after I closed up the flower stand.”
“You always did like that library. Nose in a book all the time.”
Mercedes was remembered for being a cheerleader, Kate for reading. How exciting.
Her mother flattened the collar of a knit top with wild aqua and pink flowers.
“New top?”
“Click. Click. I’ve got it down.” Her mom made that practiced gesture with her left hand. “Need anything?”
“I’ve got enough clothes, Mom. Thank you. Thought we might go for little walk.”
“Right, because I’m so good at that.”
At least her mom could still joke. Matching her fumbling steps, Kate guided her to the side door leading to the gazebo. Outside, they headed for one of the benches under a huge maple tree. The sun was edging over the tall pines, casting long shadows.
“Have you given some thought to having Natalie spend time with you this summer at Breezy Point?”
Her mother sat back with a sigh, like a soldier who’d been in active duty too long. “Yes, of course she’s welcome. If she needs a place to go.” Pride wouldn’t let her mother admit that she herself needed help.
“My flower stand is important, especially now that I don’t have a steady job.”
“So will you stay?” The eagerness in her mother’s eyes took Kate by surprise.
“For the summer, at least. I don’t know what I’m going to do come the end of August.”
“No sense in those books going to waste,” her mother finally said. Then she shrugged with a dismissive look at her right leg and the hand cradled in her lap. “And I suppose I could use some help.”
Because Breezy Point had become a touchy subject, Kate had to tread carefully. “What would you think of having Cole put a bathroom in that old pantry? He has carpenters working for him and tells me he can get it installed in no time.”
Her mother sucked in a breath. “Don't know if I can afford that, Kate.”
“Would be a trade, Mom. In return for your companionship.”
The faded eyes brightened. “Well, how nice. Does make sense. Am I going home soon?”
“So they tell me. You can't live here forever, now can you?”
Mom looked so relieved, like Kate was springing her from jail. “I do feel bad for Marie.”
“Probably won’t be long. We’ll let Cole take care of that.”
> Chapter 16
Contentment swelled inside Kate like warm caramel as she drove home from the flower stand a few days later. Lavender dusted her fingers and she inhaled with a smile. Maybe all those articles were right. The scent of the purple herb was soothing. Offering herbs along with other perennials had been such a great idea. Filling their arms with dill, eucalyptus, and lemon balm, customers spouted suggestions for all kinds of maladies, physical and psychological.
Kate needed both. A weird jumpiness kept her from sleep. And when she finally did, she dreamt she was falling from a cliff. What was that about?
Starting over was a good thing. Every bone in her body told her that. At first, she felt relieved after signing the divorce papers. That chapter of her life had closed. Kate had no hard feelings and wanted to keep it that way. Settled. Predictable, with all loose ends secured.
Eventually, that security had loosened, toppling her into free fall when she faced an uncertain future. The dizzying sensation that hit her stomach without notice kept her on edge and followed her into her dreams. Made her feel like she stood on the edge of something but didn’t know quite what.
Pines rustled overhead as she bumped down the road leading to the house. Branches brushed Bonita lightly, and she made a mental note to find her mother’s clippers. If she didn’t trim them, her beautiful SUV would have scratches.
Her ex-husband’s voice played in her mind. “You’d ruin your car because you like the smell of some tree branches?” Brian would never understand.
She was finished with disapproval.
Cole's green truck sat next to a dumpster filled with split lengths of wood. Work on the new powder room must be moving right along.
Running fingers through her hair, she nipped her lips. Shouldn’t he be gone by now? Jason she could deal with. Cole? No way.
A table saw was set up on the grass, sawdust mounded below it. She caught its fresh scent as she leaped out and popped the back hatch.
The cool, clear air had thickened, ripening in the June heat and starting to smell like summer. After grabbing a flat of bright pink geraniums, she set it under the peeling blue window boxes. So much work to do before her mom came home. She’d made headway with the damp leaves, but weeds were springing up everywhere. Peeling paint had become the norm. This place had to look cheerful and Kate’s list grew.