Babies and a Blue-eyed Man Page 3

  Rachel nodded her head. Her mind was still spinning from Sam’s unexpected proposition.

  “And I expected him to suggest that I was being presumptuous.”

  Rachel opened her eyes wide. Sam didn’t sound especially repentant.

  “And I expected him to tell me that I’d be incredibly lucky if you didn’t kick me in the shins.”

  “The day isn’t over yet,” she said, trying not to smile at the man’s utter audacity. “But as we said, a lot of years have passed, Sam. I’m an adult and I don’t kick, hit or throw things. Still, I wasn’t lying, Sam. I do have a life of my own, one I’m already committed to.”

  “Those guys Uncle Hal tells me you’ve been dating. Are you considering marriage anytime soon? Maybe moving away?”

  Rachel nearly gasped and jumped back when Sam took a step forward, breath close. “That’s none of your business, Sam, but even if I was contemplating marriage tomorrow, it’s not the problem here.” It wasn’t the problem, but at the moment Rachel wished it was. If she was waltzing down the aisle tomorrow, she wouldn’t be standing here with Sam today.

  “So explain the situation to me, Rachel.” Sam’s voice was a whisper. His lips were way too close.

  The trouble was that if she committed herself to Sam, she would have to put off one of her dreams, her plans of buying and running her own flower shop, a goal she was close to achieving. But more than that, much more than that, was the thought of what working with Sam in his home would be like. They’d have to talk, consult on the kids, and see each other in a more personal way than they would at the lumberyard, and Rachel wasn’t foolish enough to test her emotions that way. She’d given up on her dreams of Sam long ago. No way would she do anything that might call them forth again. Not in this lifetime. She believed heart and soul that she’d find the man who was meant to be her life’s companion. But it would never be Sam. Someone with Sam’s qualities, maybe, but—not Sam. She shook her head.

  “No, I can’t do this, Sam.”

  “My children need you,” Sam coaxed, his voice low and husky and urgent.

  “Give yourself time. You’ll find a woman, one you’ll love and maybe even want to marry, someone who would be a wife to you and an actual mother to your children.”

  Sam shook his head angrily, slashing his hand downward. “No, I won’t. I’m never going down that road again, Rachel. Love, a wife and marriage, that’s out of the question as far as I’m concerned. But my children do need someone to care for and help them, and I don’t have the luxury of time. Annie’s heart is breaking now. What I need is not a woman for myself, but a woman who’ll help me mend Annie’s world.”

  Rachel bit her lip. She thought of that picture of those babies. She thought of Sam trying to raise his kids alone all his life because of one woman’s betrayal. And those children with no mother. She’d feel for them; she knew that she would. A long time ago she’d learned that telling herself not to feel just wasn’t enough, and she didn’t want to go down that path again. She didn’t really even want to risk meeting Sam’s kids. She certainly didn’t want to risk being around him. Sam had dazzled and blinded her before, and when the man that was really right for her came along, she didn’t want to miss him because her eyes were turned in Sam’s direction. It was too much to ask of herself.

  Turning around, Rachel retraced her steps as she walked away from Sam. She swung back the door of the truck. “I promise you, Sam, that I would help you if I could, but—”

  Sam uttered a word that Rachel was sure he never used in front of his kids. “I’m sorry, Rachel. Forget that I asked. It was stupid of me to even suggest such a thing. I knew that.”

  “No, Sam, I—I’d like to see your children happy, but this—it just wouldn’t work.”

  Crawling back into the truck, Rachel took deep breaths and closed her eyes as she listened to the sound of Sam shutting the door and revving up the engine. She counted the minutes till she could be home and able to let her emotions have free rein. At least she had gotten through this. At least Sam had asked, she had answered, and everything was over. She had been given the opportunity to share a tiny corner of Sam’s life and she had passed on it. The danger of giving in to temptation had slipped by. She was safe.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Damn!”

  Sam sat on the lumpy bed in his room at the Tuckered Out Motel, contemplating this afternoon. He’d really made a mess of things this time. But then, what had he expected? Had he really thought that Rachel’s eyes would light up when part of the bargain he was offering her included spending a certain amount of time with him?

  Just what kind of a bargain had he offered her, anyway?

  Come take care of my kids, because I need you to, Rachel. Because I want you to, Rachel.

  He was sure someone who looked like Rachel Allyn had received a lot more enticing offers than his. Why on earth would she want to take on the care and feeding of a family when she’d been the sole care giver of her ailing mother before Lucy Allyn’s death eighteen months ago? After being tied to home during that time, Rachel was probably enjoying the freedom of her life-style these days. He couldn’t say that he blamed her much, either.

  “Nice going, Grayson,” he said with a sneer. “Just be glad the lady didn’t laugh in your face.”

  So, he thought, prying off his boots and stretching out on the sloping length of the bed, he’d struck out. Completely. But then, that came as no surprise. If he had any sense at all, and he liked to think he did, he’d give up this ridiculous quest. He’d find a house, he’d hire someone who knew how to cook, at least better than he did, and he’d once again try to fill the void Donna’s departure had created by giving his children all the love he had. Surely this small and safe town, his love and time would do the trick. Annie would surely smile again someday soon. He didn’t need Rachel Allyn. More important, he didn’t want her. He wasn’t even going to think of her anymore.

  Sam had repeated those phrases a dozen times and had just about convinced himself that he wasn’t really quitting too quickly, when the phone rang.

  “Hell,” he said, nearly rolling off the sloping bed in his haste to pick up the receiver. “Hello.”

  “Daddy?” The quavery little voice on the end couldn’t have been smaller—or more dear to him.

  “Hey, pumpkin? How’s my best big girl doing? Are you taking care of yourself and eating everything Mrs. Nelson puts in front of you?”

  “Daddy,” Annie drawled. “Mrs. Nelson made rutabagas with dinner. I don’t even like the word rutabaga, but you don’t have to worry. I made Janey and Zach eat some, ‘cause they’re little and they have to get all their vitamins.”

  “Hon-ey, Annie,” Sam said. “What did we talk about earlier? Your job is just to take good care of Annie. Mrs. Nelson is there to do the rest.”

  A long silence met this statement. Sam propped himself up on one elbow. “Annie? You there, hon?”

  “But Zach and Janey like only me to put them to bed, Daddy. Mrs. Nelson doesn’t sing, not like Mommy always did.”

  Sam’s heart nearly broke at this statement. Annie was singing to her brother and sister, but who was singing for Annie? He’d tried once or twice, but it had only seemed to make her miss her mother more.

  “That’s good, then, sweetheart,” he assured her. “I’m glad you sang for them.”

  “Daddy?” the little voice cut in, so tiny he could barely hear her.

  “What, pumpkin? You just say what you want.”

  “Will you be coming back for us soon, Daddy? Please.”

  Sam swallowed back the lump that surged to his throat. He cursed the miles that separated him from his child, but he didn’t want his Annie’s first glimpse of Tucker to be this run-down motel, the only place he could stay besides the room Hal lived in above the lumberyard office. He had to have the right place, someplace bright and sparkling and warm. A place where Annie would feel safe and welcomed.

  “I’ll be coming for you just as soon as I can get settl
ed in, Annie. I promise you it won’t be long, not long at all. I miss you, pumpkin.”

  “Me too, Daddy. You don’t worry about Zach and Janey. I’ll tell them you’re gonna’ come get us very fast, and I’ll make sure they eat good stuff.”

  As he promised to call back later that night and returned the phone to its cradle, Sam closed his eyes. He guessed he was a liar, after all. Because he did need Rachel Allyn. He very definitely needed her for Annie, and he’d do whatever was necessary to convince the woman that he and his children were a good bargain—even if he had to crawl on his knees and triple her salary.

  ~ ~ ~

  Sam got to Grayson Lumber a few minutes later than he’d planned the next day. He’d spent more time fighting the uncooperative mattress and his own thoughts last night than he had sleeping, and when he’d finally succumbed to exhaustion, it had taken some heavy-duty sunlight to awaken him. He’d hoped to catch Rachel before she made it into the office. Instead he could see through the glass of the door that she already had her beautiful face turned toward the computer on her desk. She was smiling. Good. Maybe his timing wasn’t so bad after all.

  Nodding a greeting to two smiling grandmothers passing by, Sam shoved open the office door. He watched Rachel as he moved closer to her desk. Unconsciously she pushed one slender hand through her hair, letting the dark satiny stuff fall in careless abandon about her face. She scrunched her brow, frowning suddenly, then reached out to fiddle gently with the stems of the flowers on her desk. Crimson salvia, the flaming color stood out against Rachel’s pale skin. She cradled the blossoms against her palm, studying them as if the key to the universe lay in those flowers. Then suddenly she turned back to the computer, striking a few keys.

  “Hah, gotcha, you little devil,” she said, sitting back in triumph.

  “Problems, Rachel?” Sam said quietly.

  She jerked her chin up quickly as if a puppet master had yanked an invisible string attached to her head. Her movement emphasized her long, slender neck and the soft shadows revealed by the deep vee of her ivory blouse.

  “I—Sam, you startled me. I thought I was alone,” she confessed. “And no, not problems, really. Just one of those pesky little accounting figures that had been eluding me all morning. I finally figured out where I’d lost it.”

  “You get the answers to your accounting questions from flowers?” he asked, nodding toward the plant.

  She shrugged self-consciously and ran her hand through her hair again. “I’m a sucker for flowers,” she admitted sheepishly. “They’re very soothing.”

  So stubborn Rachel had a soft spot for flowers. Flowers and children, Sam thought. It fit somehow, touched something deep inside him, and he reminded himself again that he was the one who had always brought out the fight in Rachel. He’d have to remember that and see what he could do about it.

  Rachel bit her lip. She looked up at Sam expectantly. “Are you looking for Hal?” she asked, not bothering to disguise the hope in her voice.

  Sam felt a trace of annoyance shoot through him. He forced it back, twisting his lips up in a smile. “Nice try, Rachel, but no, I’m not looking for Hal. I came to apologize to you.”

  Blinking, Rachel looked away and stared longingly at the vase of flowers. Gently he pushed it toward her.

  “Go ahead, touch them if it will make getting through this any easier for you. I know you considered me a closed chapter after yesterday. And I just want you to know that my offer—I never intended to be so blunt or pushy. I didn’t mean to use you.”

  Rachel stopped squeezing the vase she now held between her cupped hands. “That’s a lie, Sam.”

  He considered her words, then nodded. He placed his hands on his hips and let his chin drop toward his chest. “It’s a lie,” he admitted. “I need you right now. I’m worried about Annie. Hell, I’m scared silly about her, and I guess I’d do about anything—lie, cheat, steal, turn my sister’s best friend into a slave—I’d do all that to help my daughter. But heck, Rachel, I didn’t intend to insult you by coming on so strong.” Sighing, he looked up, running one hand over his jaw.

  To his surprise Rachel rose to her feet and stepped around the desk. She reached out, hesitated, then gently touched his sleeve. It was barely a feather of a touch, yet he felt it dead center in the core of him. It burned him down to his boots.

  He looked deep into her wide gray eyes and saw that she was fighting her own nervousness, yet she had still not moved her hand away. “I don’t know how to say this, but it wasn’t that you were so pushy or that I was insulted by your arrogance, Sam. It’s just—you—me?” She held her hands out helplessly. He knew what she was thinking. They’d probably start a cold war within the first week.

  ~ ~ ~

  Rachel stood there looking at Sam, waiting for him to speak. She shouldn’t have touched him, but he had looked so very lost when he’d spoken of his Annie. The woman within her just hadn’t been able to turn away. Now, however, with her hand resting on his sleeve, feeling coursed through her, feeling that went well beyond simple friendly concern. Carefully she opened her palm and let go.

  “It’s not me that I would expect you to relate to, Rachel. Just my children. I’d make it worth your while.”

  No, oh, no he wouldn’t. He’d admitted he wanted her for his children’s sake. If she was just as honest, she’d admit that Sam could still make her nerves vibrate just by opening his mouth. That was what it would be like, being around him, and nothing was worth that kind of risk. If she was smart, she’d send him elsewhere—pronto.

  Scrambling for the distancing demeanor she’d always used to deal with Sam, Rachel searched for cool and clever words, then looked into the man’s eyes. Damn. She couldn’t do it this time. She couldn’t attack him with words or even make a quick and quiet exit. This was Sam, and he had been through hell in the last year. He had lost the woman he’d loved, he was crazy with worry about his kids. No wonder he had turned to her. The man was obviously not thinking clearly. He was hurting. Her own ego, the knowledge that Sam had only sought her out because he was desperate—she had to ignore that now. Retaliating with words was not allowed this time.

  “I can’t do what you’re asking, Sam. It’s impossible,” she repeated softly, ignoring her thumping heartbeat. “But I will help you at least make sure that the children are settled and welcomed in Tucker. I’ll be a friendly face to them. I promise you that.”

  Sam blew out a puff of air and shook his head. “You’re a hell of a stubborn woman, Rachel, but—thank you. I’ll take you up on that,” he said, sliding his hand past her side and plucking a flower from the vase.

  He ran one finger along the length of the stem, brushing the pad of his fingertip against the tiny crimson blossoms. “This doesn’t mean I’m giving up on the original plan, a commitment to a more secure arrangement, Rachel. I told you I’d commit crimes for Annie’s sake. You can’t expect me to be less stubborn than you where my daughter’s concerned, but for now I’ll give in. And thank you for offering to see my kids settled. I want to bring them here as soon as I can, but—” He flailed his hand out to the side, flower and all, in a frustrated gesture.

  “But what, Sam?” Rachel rested her hips against the desk, trying not to show how nervous this whole conversation had made her. “You didn’t already tell the kids that I would be there waiting for them, did you?” Her voice sounded too high, too loud to be casual.

  Grinning suddenly, Sam raised one brow. “I said I was determined that you would, in time, come over to my side, Rachel. I didn’t say I was drop-dead stupid. Don’t you think I knew that the first words out of your mouth were not going to be, ‘Oh yes, Sam, I’ll do anything you say’?”

  At Sam’s expression and pitiful attempt to mimic her higher pitched voice, Rachel couldn’t hold back her own smile. “So if you knew I wasn’t going to fall prey to your nefarious schemes, Sam, why didn’t you just pack up the kids and come on in?”

  Sam suddenly sobered. He pushed one hand back through
his dark hair in an impatient gesture.

  “It’s not that simple, Rachel. I stopped by Ben Miller’s Realty yesterday and he showed me the old Brenner place. It’s what I want, but it’s not ready to be lived in. Not yet, anyway.”

  Rachel knew that was true. She’d driven by there just yesterday.

  “I know, but it is a wonderful house, Sam. All those turrets and gables and gingerbread. When I was a little girl, I thought it must be a castle. Your Annie’s going to feel just like a princess.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Sam studied Rachel as she spoke. Her eyes were glowing with warmth, she was waving her hands around as she talked. And when she finished on a smile, he stared into her face—and stopped breathing for three whole seconds. Rachel, he realized, had never really smiled at him. Not like that. Not in years, anyway. She was like a young girl herself, soft and breathless—and heartbreakingly lovely. For some reason that knowledge made him exceedingly angry.

  He managed to nod his head. “Hell, I’ve got to go,” he said suddenly, his voice rough and hard. Quickly he turned toward the door.

  As though startled out of a dream, Rachel looked at him with dazed eyes. “Of course, Sam. I never meant to detain you.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Guess I’m acting like a jerk. Don’t pay any attention to me.” And he meant it. It wasn’t her fault that he’d just noticed that elusive Rachel could stop a man’s heart mid-beat. It wasn’t her fault that desire had lanced through him like a sword. He’d been a long time without a woman’s touch—or a woman’s smile. It was only natural that he should feel desire when faced with a beauty like the woman standing next to him. But it wasn’t her fault.

  “I guess I’m just worried about the kids being without me,” he explained as he moved away.

  But as he neared the door, Sam couldn’t keep from turning around one more time. “Rachel? I could—darn, I’d really like a woman’s opinion on what I should do about decorating the place. Someone who knows something about kids’ tastes.”