SETH WASN’T SURPRISED by the stunned look on Wendy’s face when she saw him. What he hadn’t expected was his own reaction, a kind of one-two punch of elation, quickly followed by anger. Elation at the sight of her, so feminine and beautiful, her cheeks turned crimson by the cold, and anger over the swift realization that he didn’t want to think that way about her anymore.
Wasn’t he supposed to be past that? Surely he could greet her politely.
“What are you doing here, Seth?”
So much for politeness. She’d posed the question the same way one of his foster mothers had when she’d found him in her kitchen, getting a glass of water in the middle of the night. ‘What are you doing here?’ she’d said. He’d been just young enough to wonder how come she couldn’t see the answer for herself. He’d had to think about it before he understood that what she really meant was what was he doing in her life?
Well, he wasn’t a kid anymore. He got the meaning of Wendy’s question and answered it as he’d learned to back then, when contempt was his only defense.
“Hello, Wendy.” He let his smile underscore his sarcasm. “It’s a pleasure to see you, too.”
The door was still half-open. The smell of spices, the sound of soft, happy voices drifted into the night. He stepped forward and pulled the door closed; she responded by taking a couple of steps back, as if they were partners in a dance and only they knew the steps. A memory came to him, quick and unwanted, of all the times they’d really danced together, his arms tight around her, her head on his shoulder, the scent of her hair teasing his senses....
Damn it, what was the point in remembering? Everything they’d once meant to each other—assuming they’d ever meant anything to each other—was long gone. He’d embarrassed her, though, and he took bitter pleasure in the way her color deepened.
“Sorry.”
An apology? Score one for the home team, he thought, and decided to let her off the hook.
“Yeah, well, no problem.” The night had a frigid bite. Seth put up his collar, tucked his hands deep into the slash pockets of his leather jacket and eased back against the doorjamb. “It’s a small town.” He flashed a quick smile. “I guess you’re going to have to figure on us running into each other every now and then.”
Wendy nodded, even managed something that approximated a smile, and he figured she was grateful for the lifeline he’d tossed her.
“Are you doing something for Clint?”
“Am I... Ah. You mean, did some emergency carpentry job come up at the B and B?” He shook his head. “Nope. I’m visiting. Clint and Maureen are my friends.” She nodded again. So much for casual conversation. Seth cleared his throat. “Clint says you’re going to be working here,” he said.
“That’s right. Well, for a while, anyway. For as long as I’m in town.”
“For as long as it takes you to buttonhole Rod Pommier and talk him into that operation.”
Her smile disappeared. “Clint’s expecting me. Good night.”
“Wait.” Seth clasped her elbow as she started past him. “Wendy. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“No. You shouldn’t.”
“Yeah.” He hesitated. “Look, there’s no way we can avoid seeing each other.”
“You already said that.”
“What I mean is, you’ll be here evenings and so will I.”
She stared at him. When Clint said some of the townsfolk had taken to dropping by Twin Oaks in the evenings, she’d somehow translated that to mean people her parents’ age.
“Clint’s shorthanded,” he told her.
“Yes. I know. That’s the reason he hired me, but—”
“But what does that have to do with knowing I’m going to go on turning up like a bad penny?” He heard the bitterness in his voice and tried to soften it as he explained. “Maureen has twin daughters. They’re sweet kids. Smart, cute, and a real handful. She needs a break and they’re too much for Clint to handle at the same time he’s trying to run Twin Oaks, so I traded keeping them busy an hour or two in the evenings for some of Clint’s baking.”
If he’d expected to coax a smile from her with that, he’d been mistaken. Her face went blank.
“You?”
She said it the way he figured she would have if he’d mentioned offering to fly to Mars.
“Yeah. Me. Why is that so surprising?”
“Well, I just didn’t think—I mean, men don’t usually—”
“I’m not ‘men,’ I’m me.” His voice roughened. “Maybe that was always your problem, Wendy. You categorized me far too easily.”
Her eyes glittered. With tears or with annoyance? He couldn’t tell, but then, he couldn’t tell much of anything about her anymore.
“Please,” she said softly, “let’s not do this.”
“No.” He felt a muscle knot in his jaw. “You’re right. Let’s not.” He drew a breath, then let it out. “I like the twins. They like me. I like Clint and Maureen. What I’m doing is no big deal.”
Wendy nodded. “Well, that’s very nice of you.”
“Like I said, it’s no big deal.”
Another silence fell between them. Then Wendy made a point of tugging her cuff back and checking her watch.
“I’d better get inside. I’m supposed to start work at six, but I thought I’d come in early tonight, you know, get a feel for things.”
“Sure.”
Silence again. Then she held out her hand. “Well, good night.”
He looked at her hand, thought about telling her she hadn’t seen the last of him tonight, that he was only going to fix the windshield wipers on his truck. But she would realize that shortly.
For now, it was sufficient to accept the peace offering and clasp her hand in his.
“Good luck tonight.”
“Thanks.” She smiled. “I have the feeling I’m going to need it. You could tuck what I know about being a hostess into a thimble and still have room left for a finger.”
“You’ll be fine. Twin Oaks draws a friendly crowd. Just be sure and sneak one of Clint’s chocolate chip cookies before the guests scarf them all down.”
Her smile broadened. She was more at ease now. He liked that, knowing she wasn’t uptight just because she was talking to him, just because he hadn’t yet let go of her hand.
“He’s a terrific baker, huh?”
“Terrific doesn’t even come close.”
“That’s what my father told me.”
Her father. “Well, it’s nice to know your old man is right about some things,” he said, and cursed himself when he saw her face harden and felt her tug her hand free of his.
“Goodbye, Seth.”
He stepped to his left. She stepped to her right and they found themselves facing each other again.
“Sorry,” he said, and backed out of her way.
That was where she’d always wanted him, he thought as he watched her walk into the house.
Out of her way.
* * *
WENDY NEEDED A MOMENT to compose herself.
Couldn’t she and Seth spend five minutes together without ending up quarreling? He was so damned self-righteous, so convinced he knew what was best for her. She’d almost told him that, accused him of being as bad as her father....
As bad as her father? No. Her father understood her. Seth didn’t.
What bad luck to run into him now. She’d told Seth she was worried about being a hostess, but the truth went lots deeper than that.
What would it be like, mingling with people who’d never known her before the accident? Strangers would have no reason to pity her when they saw that she limped. But then they’d also have no way of knowing the quick, graceful woman she’d once been.
And how would she react when guests at Twin Oaks asked her questions about skiing? About the local slopes? She’d put up a brave front for Clint when he’d mentioned that part of the job; she’d done the same thing when her father brought up the subject at dinner last night.
“I still agree that working at Twin Oaks is the best way to get ahold of Pommier,” he’d said, “but I wonder, honey, are you sure you’ll be comfortable talking about skiing?”
That had upset her mother. “Of course she’ll be comfortable talking about skiing,” Gina had said sharply. “Why would you even think such a thing?”