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Rachel latched on to a ready-made excuse. “I’m sorry. Dylan will be expecting me home at four.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Look, if it’s about the other day. I’m sorry if my father upset you.”
“He didn’t upset me,” she insisted. “In any case, he was right. Risking your life for a dog was foolish.”
He winced. “Ouch.”
“Is there anything else?”
“Actually there is,” he said with quiet intensity. “Is there any reason why we can’t be friends?”
The request caught her off guard. “Not really,” she said after a moment’s hesitation.
“Good.” He smiled. “If you recall, the puppies are due for their shots. You forgot to give me your home address.”
That wasn’t surprising; she’d hoped he’d forget all about her, and the puppies. She gave him the address, adding, “I’m sorry if I inconvenienced you.”
“Not at all.” There was a gleam of amusement in his eyes—as if he knew she wasn’t sorry at all. “I had to come into town. The sawmill isn’t that far out of the way.”
The office door opened. “Rachel—” Her boss, Evan Pierce, frowned at Jared’s presence. “Am I interrupting?”
Jared replied, “I was about to steal your assistant away, but she resisted.” He walked out, saying, “I’ll be in touch.”
After Jared left, Evan said, “Whenever you have time, please log this in.” He handed her a thick file. “By the way, my mother sends her regrets. The family left town after the trial, but she’s very anxious to get to know Dylan better. She’s expecting you both to join her.” Evan didn’t smile.
Rachel could never tell whether he approved of her or not. “I’d like that, too. But Dylan still needs to adjust to this move, and school’s starting soon—then, there’s my job.”
“There are schools in Bar Harbor,” he said dryly. “And as far as your job is concerned, we have connections there. It shouldn’t be too difficult to line up a job.”
Rachel stiffened, refusing to let Drew’s influential family take over her life. “Please thank your mother. Dylan and I would love to visit sometime, but not now.”
After he walked out, Rachel tried to concentrate on work. She stared at the figures on her computer screen and watched them blur. The numbers didn’t add up. The trial had left the Pierces in debt. And with no funds to buy new timber, cut or standing, the situation at the sawmill was only bound to get worse.
With the migrant camp closed since the previous summer, the local farmers were in trouble. Henderson relied heavily on the lumber industry. Hundreds of jobs depended on the sawmill remaining solvent, including Rachel’s.
When she finished work, Rachel walked home—surprised to find Jared there. He and Dylan were in the yard playing catch.
While she stood unnoticed, Jared threw a long one, and Dylan missed. The ball flew into the woods, and Dylan and Sunny took off after it. The dog was barking with glee, Dylan was laughing, so was Jared. The scene was so normal, so rare…everything she wanted for Dylan.
At that moment, Jared saw her. Unable to tear her gaze away, she watched his easy grace as he crossed her yard. She pushed her hair back, aware of a certain expectancy.
He spoke first. “I got here about half an hour ago. Mary Ellen explained you were running late, so I told her she could leave. I hope you don’t mind,” he said with a crooked smile some women might find endearing.
Apparently, he’d charmed the baby-sitter. But Rachel wasn’t an impressionable teenager. She frowned, refusing to be swayed by his rampant masculinity. “She should have called me and let me know.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And what would you have said?”
“That’s hardly the point.”
At her tone, he looked surprised. “You’re upset.”
“Of course. I’m responsible for Dylan.”
Jared’s mouth tightened in a flash. “And you think I might do something to harm him? Believe me, you have nothing to fear in that department.”
Not reassured, she decided to drop the subject, but felt compelled to add, “Next time, please let me know.” Assuming there was a next time.
He nodded toward the sign on the lawn advertising free puppies. “Have you had many takers?”
She nodded. “We’ve got a waiting list.”
“I gave them their shots, they’re ready to go. You’ll be glad to get your life back,” he said, as if her life was filled with thrills and excitement whenever she wasn’t dog-sitting.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
Rachel hadn’t had a date in more months than she could remember. “I’d still feel better if you’d accept some kind of payment.” Her mouth went dry when his gaze slid over her lips.
When she blushed, Jared felt like a fraud—a lecherous one at that. The urge to kiss her soft pink mouth had come out of nowhere. He cleared his throat. “It’s not necessary.”
When Dylan turned up with the ball, Jared said, “Before I forget, there is one other thing. I waited for your mom to get home.” He’d left a box in the back of his truck parked in the shaded driveway. Now, he reached in and pulled out a squirming ball of fur. Jared set it on the ground where it shook itself into a floppy-eared black and white puppy. “Remember this little one?”
“He made it!” Dylan’s voice held awe.
At the tone, Jared’s grin grew wider. “He had a little trouble at first, but he’s a fighter.” He didn’t reveal the lengths to which he’d gone to save the puppy. There was little he could do for Dylan, but using his veterinary skills was a start.
Dylan nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he’s a fighter.”
Sunny trotted up. Nose to nose, the big dog and the little one got acquainted. “Sunny adopted the pups,” Dylan explained.
The new pup broke away to explore, sniffing at the long grass, darting into the pansies and coming out with yellow pollen on its black nose. When the pup started to dig, Rachel picked it up. “Oh no, you don’t,” she scolded, laughing when a silky pink tongue licked her thumb.
A moment later, she set him down at a safe distance, and the curious pup found another patch of flowers.
Dylan promptly named the puppy “Digger.”
Rachel gave a resigned sigh. Despite all his promises—“not to get attached”—Dylan had given each puppy a name, which Rachel knew would only make it harder when the new owners came to take them away in the next week. There was Bear and Tony and Cindy and Cookie and Pepper—and now Digger.
Just then, a car pulled up, and a rough-looking man got out. “Sign says you got dogs,” he said. “I need a good watchdog. Are they going to be big?”
Jared said, “Small to medium-size.” He didn’t like the man’s attitude and was tempted to send him on his way.
Rachel beat him to it. “I’m sorry, they’re all taken.”
The man nodded toward Digger. “What about that one?”
Rachel scooped up the puppy. “We’re keeping him.”
At that, Dylan grinned from ear to ear. Jared just stood there as a slow smile crept over his face. Damned if she hadn’t surprised him. So Rachel had a heart—she was just afraid of losing it—but under the right conditions, she would take a risk and “get attached.”
After the man left in a huff, Dylan threw his arms around Rachel. “Thanks, Mom!” The boy was obviously delighted, and Jared could see why. Rachel was the kind of mother any boy would love, which only made Jared’s dilemma worse.
Rachel was conscious of Jared’s undivided attention. He warmed her with a smile that she imagined meant approval.
“I’ll have to send more of my patients to you for some TLC.”
“No, thanks, I think we’ve met our quota.” Rachel set the puppy on the ground. “Supper is in one hour,” she called after Dylan as he ran off with Sunny and the pup trailing behind.
She turned back to Jared. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
When he accepted, she hid her pleasure. The feeling came from deep inside, a warm tide, like a well that couldn’t be emptied. He followed her into the house.
Her voice even, she said, “How’s business?”
“Things are slow. We’ve got one in-patient, a turtle with an infected shell. He’s on antibiotics. The ferrets went home last week. However, there is a prize pregnant cow that’s gone past her delivery date.”
A laugh escaped her. “Sounds promising.”
He grinned back. “Could be twins—that would mean a bonus.”
“One would hope.” Disarmed by his humor, Rachel relaxed her guard. He obviously liked children—he was saving turtles and owls. How dangerous could he be?
Jared looked around the small front hall with its neat coatrack. Curious about the way she and Dylan lived, he felt like a fraud, a man on a mission to uncover the past. A narrow flight of stairs wound its way upward on the right; and to the left, an arched door opened into the cozy living room. Dominated by shades of yellow accented by pale greens and blues, the room was filled with plants. A partially finished jigsaw puzzle took up most of the coffee table. Tropical fish swam companionably in a fish tank. The glass sparkled. “Nice,” he said, taking in the bright atmosphere, slowly absorbing the meaning. Home.
Aware of the breathless quality of her voice, Rachel said, “The kitchen’s through here.” Why had she weakened and invited him inside? Now, she didn’t know what to do with him. She reached into a cupboard. If only she had instant coffee…but all she had was regular ground.
While he wandered around, looking at Dylan’s drawings displayed on the refrigerator door, Rachel measured coffee grounds and water. It took a while for things to percolate. She wasn’t sure what they talked about, but eventually the coffee was done. She reached for her mother’s fine cups and saucers—thin china decorated with cabbage roses, etched in gold, and breakable. They weren’t valuable—except to Rachel. In fact, she usually reserved them for very special occasions. Feeling bemused at the realization, she stopped, then firmly reached for a pair of solid earthenware mugs.
She poured coffee. “Sugar, cream?”
“Yes, please.”
Rachel joined him at the round wooden table. Set in a cozy alcove, it suddenly felt much cozier. She lifted her cup to her lips, and took a cautious sip.
He took a swallow, lifted an eyebrow. “This isn’t bad.”
“What did you expect?” She needed to lighten the atmosphere, which had grown oddly heavy.
“Not a great cup of coffee,” he countered with an easy careless smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Rachel suspected a lot of things came easily to Jared Carlisle, perhaps too easily. “I’d almost forgotten,” she said, searching for a safe neutral topic. “Earlier, you said you wanted to discuss something.”
At the reminder, Jared hesitated. “It was nothing important,” he said at last. He’d almost forgotten his mission. Was he prepared to reveal his suspicions?
His gaze returned to the drawings on the refrigerator. He could remember his own mother displaying his childish artwork. He supposed that’s what mothers did. Funny, how he’d forgotten that. But he’d never forgotten coming home from school one day and finding her gone—and no one pinned his drawings up anymore. At the time, he was seven years old, not much younger than Dylan. All these years later, he still felt a pang of regret. A boy needed a mother. Jared knew firsthand how it felt to lose one. If Dylan was his son, Rachel was part of the package.
Turning away from that troubling thought, trying to sound casual, he said, “Raising a young boy on your own can’t be easy. Have you always been responsible for Dylan?”
Suddenly the focus of all his attention, Rachel cautiously reached for her own cup. “Yes.” The cup was warm. She wrapped her fingers around it. Nevertheless, his next words sent a chill up her arm—straight to her heart.
“What about Laurel?”
Her mouth tightened. “What do you want to know?”
He cleared his throat. “Where was she?”
Rachel took a moment before answering. “After Dylan was born, Laurel was very unhappy. She needed to get away.”
“So she left Dylan?”
“She left him with me. She came to see him whenever she could.” She added a few details.
Jared learned that Rachel’s aunt and uncle had been wonderful; they’d helped her finish college. She’d taken advantage of on-campus daycare while attending classes. Apparently she’d had no social life. Although Jared didn’t discover anything new about Dylan, he learned that Rachel had sacrificed her youth for the boy. She didn’t seem to realize how unusual that was.
With each question, he watched her withdraw further and further. He felt like an interrogator…like an unfeeling brute pulling the wings off a fragile butterfly. And for what? So that he could take Dylan from her?
Before making a move, Jared needed to get acquainted with the boy, to lessen the shock when it came—to know whether this odd tenuous bond he felt with this child was real, or all in his mind—or his heart.
Jared glanced at his watch. “I should be going, I’ve still got other cases.” He pushed away from the table. He had to see Rachel again—for more than the obvious reasons. “Thanks for the coffee. Maybe we could do this again.”
“Mmm,” was her noncommittal response. She collected the used mugs, then set them in the sink.
As far as refusals went, hers left Jared with no room to argue. He’d heard Rachel use the same tone with Dylan, which didn’t do much for a man’s ego. Of course, his masculine ego wasn’t at stake here…was it?
Over the next week or so, a green pickup truck could be seen parked in Rachel’s driveway with enough regularity to start tongues wagging. One day, when Mary Ellen wasn’t available to stay with Dylan, her mother volunteered to fill in. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” Rachel asked when she dropped him off in the morning.
“Not at all,” Nora insisted. “Dylan’s a joy to have around.” She was a kind, warmhearted woman, naturally friendly and inquisitive when it came to her new neighbors. The entire O’Neil family had taken Rachel and Dylan under its protective wing—for which Rachel was grateful, except when it came to answering questions concerning her personal life.
“Have you got time for a cup of tea?” Nora said.
Hoping to avoid one of Nora’s “heart to heart” talks, Rachel refused politely. “I’m running late for work.”
Nora just smiled. “Mary Ellen tells me Jared Carlisle’s been spending a lot of time at your house.”
“Just to see the puppies.” Rachel eased her way from the kitchen, down the hall, to the front door.
Nora followed. “That’s not what Mary Ellen said.”
With one hand on the doorknob, Rachel stopped. “What did she say?”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but it seems like Dylan’s got a huge crush on the man. He needs a father. Seems like he’s decided Jared’s a good candidate for the job.”
Rachel closed her eyes. “Oh, God.”
Smiling, Nora said gently, “Maybe I shouldn’t ask, but were you in love with Dylan’s father?”
“He’s my sister’s child, but he’s always been with me.”
“Is that why you never married?”
“Not really. At first, Dylan and school took up every minute of the day,” she admitted. “Then, when I finally came up for air, I discovered all the suitable men in town were taken, and the rest were too old, too young or too married.”
Nora laughed. “Well, you could do a lot worse than Jared. The Carlisles are good people. Ira’s a little testy at times, and there was all that trouble years ago with the mother, but Jessie and Jared turned out okay.”
Rachel shook off the urge to ask for more details. “I really do have to go….” She made her escape.
But she couldn’t escape Nora’s words—Dylan had decided Jared would make a good father.
Thus, a few days later, when Jared stopped by with the casual invitation, “I thought we could go out for pizza, you, Dylan and I,” Rachel balked.
She was thinking of Dylan when she said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Jared raised an eyebrow. “Why isn’t it a good idea?”
“This is difficult to put into words, but you may have noticed that Dylan is a very friendly little boy.”
“He’s a great kid. You must be proud of him.”
“Yes, well.” Rachel took a deep breath. “Of course, I’m proud of Dylan, but his openness often leads to his getting hurt. He puts his faith in people too easily.”
“I’m not sure I follow you. Why don’t you spell it out?”
“He likes you,” she said. “I don’t want him getting ideas.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re turning down a date with me because I included Dylan in the invitation.”
“Please understand, he’ll read more into it.” She sighed. “He has a habit of getting attached to people, then he doesn’t understand when they drop out of his life.”
By “people” Jared guessed she meant men. Although he didn’t like it, he had to admit she had a point. He had no serious intentions toward Dylan’s lovely aunt—not honorable ones.
Rachel was simply a means to get at the answers concerning Dylan. Wasn’t she?
Considering himself well-warned, Jared said, “Are you protecting Dylan? Or yourself?”
She stiffened. “It doesn’t really matter, does it?”
Jared shrugged. “I suppose not. But just as a matter of interest…you did let Drew get close.”
“That’s different. He’s Dylan’s father.”
Jared caught the ring of conviction in her voice. It made him pause—she was so sure that Drew was Dylan’s father.
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