Dancing in the Dark (15 page)

“No, not at all.” Wendy deliberately turned her attention to the individual packets of hot chocolate heaped in a straw basket. “Seth and I are...we used to date, but that was a long time ago.”

“Good.” Clint groaned. “There I go again. I don’t mean good that you guys are history, only that I’m relieved it won’t be a problem for you to spend so much time together.”

“It won’t be.” What exactly did “so much” mean? Once a week? Twice? Wendy thought about asking and decided against it. “No problem at all.”

“That’s terrific. Seth’s become a good pal, and I have to admit, having him around for the kids—did he tell you about my nieces? They’re twins, bright, beautiful three-year-olds...but they can wear you to a frazzle.”

“And Seth’s...good with them?”

“Good? He’s terrific. One look and you can see he’s a man who should have a houseful of his own someday.”

The casually spoken words were like a knife to the heart. “Yes. He should.” She smiled brightly to hide the wound. “How about standing by while I make some coffee? Just to be sure I’ve got it right.”

“Good idea. Okay, let’s take out a filter first...”

“Got it. And the coffee’s in here, right?”

“Yup. We have different flavors, by the way. Sometimes we make up a small pot of vanilla or raspberry almond—”

“Uncle Clint!”

Wendy looked up as two little girls flew down the stairs, faces lit with excitement. Chestnut curls bobbed beneath red velvet ribbons; blue-green eyes sparkled with excitement as the children ran to Clint, who bent down and swept both of them into his arms.

“Speak of the devil,” he said, and grinned. “Here they are, my twin tornadoes.”

One of the twins giggled. “We’re girls, not tomatoes.”

“You are, too, tomatoes,” Clint teased. “That’s why you have red bows in your hair.”

“No, it’s not,” the other twin said. “We like red—and Mommy does, too.”

“Uh-huh.” Clint shifted the children in his arms and smiled at Wendy. “These terrors are either tomatoes or tornadoes, your choice, but they’re definitely my favorite nieces.”

“Silly Uncle Clint. We’re his
only
nieces.”

“An’ even if we wasn’t, we’d be his favorites ’cause we’re the bestest nieces anywhere. Right, Uncle Clint?”

“Right,” Clint said solemnly. “Say hello to Miss Monroe, you guys.”

“It’s Wendy,” Wendy said. “And I’m delighted to meet you.”

“We’re delighted to meet you, too,” Robin said politely.

Randi observed Wendy with care. “Are you Uncle Clint’s girlfriend?”

“No.” Wendy laughed. “I’m not.”

“Mommy says he could use one.”

“Your mother’s full of helpful ideas,” Clint said, and sighed. “What else did she say?”

“That we can stay down here for a little bit if you say it’s all right.” Robin’s smile was beguiling. “Is it all right?”

“She says it’s time we drove
you
crazy for a while,” Randi added helpfully.

“I’ll bet.” Clint gave each girl a resounding kiss on the cheek, then put them down. “Okay, ladies. I’d be delighted to have your company for a while, but you have to behave.”

“We always behave,” Randi said, wide-eyed.

“And the moon’s made of green...” Clint looked past Wendy and sighed. “Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh, what?” Robin asked.

“Uh-oh, you guys will have to be very, very good while I take care of the gentleman heading for the desk. Mr. Collier,” he added, for Wendy’s benefit. “He checked in yesterday with his wife. Nice people but, uh, a little high maintenance.”

“What’s high main’ance?”

Clint laughed. “You’d think I’d have learned to watch what I say by now, wouldn’t you? Wendy, I hate to ask, but could you keep an eye on the girls? Not for long. Seth should be back in just another few minutes.”

“He’s coming back?” Wendy heard the edge of distress in her voice and smiled hastily. “I mean, I saw him at the door before. He said he was leaving.”

“He just went out to check his windshield wipers. One of them was sticking, and he figured it would be better to see what he could do about it now rather than later. They’re predicting heavy snow for...” Clint waved his hand. “Yes, Mr. Collier. I’ll be right there.” He looked at Wendy. “Are you okay with this?”

Was she okay, knowing she was going to have to see Seth again tonight?

“Of course,” she said, with what she hoped was conviction.

“You sure?”

“Positive. The girls and I—”

“They’re not girls,” a gruff voice intoned, “they’re monsters. And I’m a knight, come to break the spell put over them by the wicked witch.”

“Uncle Seth!”

Wendy swung around. Seth was coming toward them, his cheeks ruddy from the cold, his dark-brown hair tossed by the wind, and her heart thumped in a way she wished it wouldn’t. She didn’t want to feel this way, didn’t, didn’t, didn’t....

“Hi.”

She cleared her throat. “Hi.”

“I see you’ve met Doc and Grumpy.” Seth swept the twins into his arms as the children broke into giggles.

“We aren’t Doc and Grumpy!”

“No?” He furrowed his brow. “Well, then, who are you? Oh. Wait a minute. It’s coming to me..... You’re Goofy and Pluto.”

More giggles, punctuated by little fists pummeling Seth’s chest.

“You know our names, Uncle Seth.”

“Hmm. Mickey and Minnie? Ernie and Bert?” Hands tugged at his hair. “Ouch. Okay, I give up. They’re Robin and Randi, and if you’re not careful, they’ll run you ragged.”

“What’s ragged?” two voices said in unison.

Seth put the children on their feet. “It’s what happens to people when you guys don’t behave yourselves.”

“We always behave!”

“Yeah.” He ruffled the girls’ hair. “You do if you want a treat before you go to bed later. Like, say, your Uncle Clint’s chocolate chip cookies and milk.”

“Yum.”

“Yum, indeed.” Seth clasped the girls’ hands and looked at Wendy. “How’re things going?”

“Fine,” she said, and wondered if she was going to make a fool of herself and cry just because Seth was so good with kids. She forced a smile. “Clint walked me through everything and finally turned me loose so I could try making some coffee.” Why was he looking at her that way? She thumbed the hair back from her eyes. “Do I have a smudge on my face or something?”

“Or something.”

His voice was soft. It made her knees tremble, and that was the last thing she wanted.

“Do you need me?”

Trembling knees, and now a trembling heart. “Sorry?”

“Do you need me to help with the coffee? Fill the urn, whatever?”

“Oh. Oh, no. I can—I can manage.”

Seth nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Well, if you change your mind...”

“I’ll let you know.”

He smiled at her and she couldn’t keep from smiling back. “Great,” he said, still in that soft voice. Then he cleared his throat and looked down at Randi and Robin, who looked back at him with anticipatory glints in their eyes. “Okay, crew. Let’s go build that Lego city we talked about.”

“A castle,” Robin said, jumping up and down. “I want a castle with a drawbridge.”

“An’ a dragon,” Randi added excitedly. “Can we make a dragon, too?”

“We can make anything you want,” Seth said. His eyes met Wendy’s. “That’s the thing about Lego. You want to build a dreamworld, you can. Reality never intrudes.”

“What does that mean, Uncle Seth? Ree-al-uh-tee?”

Seth tore his eyes from Wendy’s. “It means that you can build all the castles you want, but that doesn’t guarantee you’ll ever get to live in them.”

“Oh,” Robin said softly. “That’s sad.”

Seth cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said, and led the twins away while Wendy watched and blinked hard to keep back the tears burning in her eyes.

* * *

T
HE
COFFEE
MACHINE
was easy to operate, once Wendy figured out its idiosyncrasies.

While the coffee dripped through the filter, she replenished the supply of tea bags, made sure the hot water urn was full, and got a fresh platter of cookies from the kitchen. A middle-aged couple came by and bombarded her with questions about the town’s craft shops.

All of it was pleasant and easy to handle, which was good, because Wendy couldn’t seem to keep her attention focused. She kept glancing over at Seth and the twins, sitting cross-legged in a little circle in a corner of the big room, a Lego castle rising before them.

A castle you could build, but not live in.

Blindly, she turned away. The coffee was ready; she filled a mug, blew on the hot black liquid and took a cautious sip.

“Good?” a man in a ski sweater and cords asked pleasantly.

Yes, she assured him, it was, and would he like some? She poured a cup for him, then for the people who’d inquired about the craft shops. A young couple who just had to be on their honeymoon came in, and Wendy chatted a bit with them.

Eventually, she was alone again. She looked at the corner. The castle was taller. A wall was going up around it. Seth was talking to Robin, smiling at Randi...

He was so good with kids.

What was wrong with her tonight?

She walked to the brochure rack and straightened brochures that didn’t need straightening, trying not to pay attention to the children’s soft voices and occasional laughter.

What kind of B and B encouraged children to play in the gathering room, anyway? It was a ridiculous arrangement. Three-year-old kids belonged in bed at this hour, even if they were sweethearts....

Who was she kidding? The twins weren’t bothering anybody. Every now and then, someone looked up and smiled at the sight of those two burnished chestnut heads and that one dark one, bent over the Lego blocks.

The dark head that belonged to a man she’d once loved.

Oh, how she had loved him. With all her heart, all her soul.

Seth looked up and their eyes met. She felt as if he was looking deep inside her, past the false smiles, bitter words, anger and pain. That he was looking into the deepest recesses of her heart, where the truth lay quiescent, waiting to be awakened.

She loved him still. She’d never stopped loving him and never would. God, oh God. How could she have denied it for so long? She was still in love with Seth.

The sudden bleat of the telephone made her jump. She grabbed for it, clutched it with almost painful desperation.

“Good evening,” she said, though her heart was pounding. “This is Twin Oaks. How may I help you?”

Someone wanted a reservation for next weekend. Yes, she said, of course, and she checked the book the way Clint had shown her, wrote everything down, did it all right even though she was shaking, even though she’d just made the one discovery she hadn’t permitted herself to make in all these long, empty years.

She loved Seth Castleman.

She’d never stopped loving him, despite all her protests, her determined conviction that the Wendy who’d left for Norway wasn’t the same Wendy who’d come home to Cooper’s Corner.

Her body had let her down and now, so had her heart. How could it still belong to Seth? There was no future in loving him, not for her, certainly not for him. Even if there were, if by some miracle she could be the wife he’d once wanted, Seth didn’t love her anymore.

She’d seen to that, hadn’t she?

The phone trembled in her hand. The voice at the other end was asking about area attractions and she said, still calmly, that there were lots of things to do and see in these mountains.

Finally, mercifully, the conversation dwindled to silence.

“Thank you for calling Twin Oaks,” she said brightly. “We’ll see you next weekend.”

She hung up, shaking. She didn’t dare turn around. What would Seth see in her eyes?

Clint came strolling up. “Everything okay?”

“Fine.” She smiled at him, or hoped she did. “I just took a reservation for next weekend. I entered it in the book.”

“Great.” He paused. “You okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Fine.” She cleared her throat. “Actually, now that you mention it... Would it be all right if I took a break? Just for a couple of minutes.”

“Hey, you don’t have to ask permission. You need a break, take it.”

“Thanks. I just didn’t... Thanks.”

She’d have to pass Seth and the twins to reach the bathroom, but that was all right. She wouldn’t look in his direction. He surely wouldn’t look in hers. She might even have imagined that instant when their eyes met a little while ago.

The bathroom was unoccupied. Thank goodness for small favors. Wendy let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and put her hand on the door.

“Wendy?”

Her heart stood still. Seth had come up behind her. She turned slowly toward him, while butterflies swarmed beneath her breastbone.

“Yes?”

He smiled, a slow, lazy smile she felt straight down to her toes. “Are you busy?”

“I—I am, yes.” She waved a hand toward the bathroom door. “I was just going to take a break....”

“I noticed.” He stepped closer, curled his hand around her arm. “The thing is,” he said softly, “I need you.”

CHAPTER TEN

T
HERE
WAS
A
TIME
when Seth used to tease her about being able to read her mind. Could he still do it, so many years later? Did he know what she’d been thinking only moments ago? That it was still true, that all she wanted, all she’d ever wanted, was him?

“Wendy? Did you hear me?”

His voice was low, his eyes locked to hers. She didn’t trust herself to speak. He was barely a breath away. All she had to do was reach out, cup his face in her hands, bring his mouth down to hers.

“Uncle Seth? We have to go
now.
”

The small voice was taut with urgency. Wendy blinked and looked down. Robin and Randi stood on either side of Seth, clutching his hands and shifting from foot to foot.

Shifting from foot to foot? Oh. The twins had to go to the bathroom. That’s what this was all about. Seth didn’t need her; the kids did.

“You want me to take the girls to the bathroom?”

“Would you? I’d do it myself but I’ve never dealt with...” He blushed. “You know, the mechanics.”

A minute ago she’d wanted to kiss him. Now she wanted to bang her head against the wall at her sheer stupidity. But his embarrassed smile reached her and she took pity on him. He was a man confronted by something he was totally unprepared for, just as she’d been unprepared for the foolish thoughts that were nothing but the imaginings of her own silly sentimentality.

“No problem,” she said, and held out her hands to the girls. “Come on, kids. Let’s go to the ladies’ room.”

“It’s not a ladies’ room.” Randi piped up as Wendy bumped the door open with her hip. “Mommy says it’s a unaset room.”

“A unaset...” Wendy smiled. “Unisex. Right. That’s what it is. Okay. Let’s get you guys unbuttoned.”

She helped two pairs of overeager little fingers work their way through buttons and snaps. There was only one commode and Randi volunteered to wait, making the offer with solemn courage. After they were done, all the snaps and buttons had to be done up again. Finally, Wendy lifted each child to the sink for a round of hand-washing.

Randi gave her a curious look. “Do you have little girls of your own?”

“No,” Wendy said, forcing an answering smile, “I don’t.”

“She doesn’t have little girls,” Randi whispered to Robin, as if Wendy weren’t there.

“You’d be a good mommy,” Robin said, with all the wisdom of her three years.

Wendy took the cloth towel from the child and tossed it into the wicker hamper. Gently, she smoothed Robin’s tumbled chestnut curls from her forehead.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“You could have a baby. Maybe with Uncle Clint for the daddy.”

“Or Uncle Seth. He’d make a good daddy, too.”

Wendy’s throat tightened. Did you laugh or cry at stuff like this? Laugh, she decided, or at least smile. She gave each child a quick kiss and pulled the door open.

“Come on, you two. Let’s find your Uncle Seth so he can help you finish building that castle.”

“We already did.” The little girls beamed at Seth, who was leaning against the reception desk, arms folded, feet crossed at the ankles. “Right, Uncle Seth? Didn’t we finish the castle?”

“Right down to the moat.” Seth scooped the twins into his arms. “And a great castle it is, strong and safe from goblins and witches and dragons.”

Two heads nodded with enthusiasm.

“Did you thank Wendy for helping you?”

The twins looked at her. “Thank you, Wendy.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Randi looped an arm around Seth’s neck. “Can we go for a walk?”

“It’s late. I think it’s bedtime for you guys.”

Robin stuck out her bottom lip. “But it’s snowing.”

“Uh-huh. All the more reason not to take a walk.”

“Walking in the snow is fun. It’s all squishy.”

Seth grinned. “Squishy is always good,” he told Wendy, who smiled back at him.

“And it’s pretty. Snow is like fairy dust, Uncle Seth. So, please, can we go? Please? Just for a little walk?”

Seth looked into the two pairs of blue-green eyes, knew he was a goner and gave a deep sigh. “A very little one, okay?”

“Yay!”

“But you have to check with your Uncle Clint first.”

“Check what?” Clint said, hurrying past them with a box in his arms.

“The terrible twosome want to take a walk in the snow.” Seth shot Clint a speaking look. “A short walk. Very short.”

“Yeah, sure. Sweaters, hats, boots, snowsuits, gloves.” He grinned. “It’ll take you longer to dress ’em than to walk ‘em.”

“Okay, kids, you heard the rules. First we get dressed. Then we take a short walk.”

“Uncle Seth?”

“What, sugar?”

Robin tucked her thumb in her mouth. “We like Wendy,” she said shyly. “Can she come, too?”

“Oh. Oh, no,” Wendy said quickly. “I mean, I couldn’t possibly. I—I have—”

“Wendy can’t come with us,” Seth told them. “She has more important things to do.”

Wendy bristled. “I never said that!”

“More important than a walk?” Robin asked plaintively.

“It’s not that.” Wendy took the child’s hands in hers. “I’m...I’m busy, honey. I have to help people with things here.”

“What things?” Randi said innocently.

What things, indeed? There weren’t that many people in the gathering room. Locals didn’t show up much on weekday evenings, Clint had told her. Except for the middle-aged couple sipping coffee as they played chess in front of the fireplace, the room was empty.

“Just things,” Wendy said after a minute. “I’m working tonight. Otherwise, I’d go with—”

“Go where?”

Clint, retracing his path from the storeroom to the desk, paused and raised his eyebrows.

“Wendy says she’d like to go for a walk with Uncle Seth and us, but she can’t ’cause she’s working.”

“Don’t be silly.” Clint smiled at Wendy. “Of course you can go. The coffee’s done—it’s perfect, by the way, lots better than I ever make it. Everybody’s settled in. If you feel up to torture by twins, go for it.”

“The reception desk,” Wendy said quickly. “If someone phones—”

“I’ll handle it.”

“Say yes, Wendy! Say you’ll come. Please, please, please?”

She looked at the two hopeful faces. And at Seth, whose face bore no expression at all.

“A walk sounds lovely,” she said, and tried to ignore the way her heart lifted at the smile that curved Seth’s lips.

* * *

C
LINT
WAS
RIGHT
. Getting the children into their gear took a long time.

“It’s not easy to turn kids into Pillsbury Dough Boys,” Seth announced as they worked the girls’ legs into pants, their feet into boots. They pulled on sweaters, jackets and hoods. They buttoned, zipped and fastened, tugged on mittens and burst out laughing when the children waddled to the door.

“Heaven help us if they fall down.”

“Not to worry.” Seth grinned. “I can always attach a towline to my truck and drag ’em home.”

“Come on,” Randi said impatiently.

“Hurry,” said Robin, as if the night and the snow might suddenly end.

Seth and Wendy pulled on their own jackets. Seth wrapped a wool scarf around his throat. Wendy did the same, then added her knit cap. Seth looked her over and tried not to think back to the days when he’d call for her on a winter’s night, see her all bundled up like she was now, and try to shake hands with her scowling father and smile politely at her pleasant mother while his wicked brain created images of what it was going to be like to search out Wendy’s warm, satiny skin beneath all those layers of clothing.

Her eyes met his. Something flashed in their aqua depths. It was crazy, but just for that instant, he thought she might be remembering the same thing.

He cleared his throat. “Those boots going to be okay?”

“Fine.”

“You sure? They look kind of worn, and it’s cold out....”

His words trailed away as their eyes met again. This time, he knew they were thinking the same thing. They were sharing a memory from the old days when she’d worn these same boots. They’d get into the cab of his truck and he’d ask if she was sure the boots were okay because it was cold out, and she’d say yes, they were fine, and the whole silly conversation was only a lead-up to what she’d say next, that if her feet got cold, she could always put them in his lap and he could untie her laces, take off her boots, massage her feet with his warm hands....

Hell. This was never going to work. How could he have thought he’d be able to spend evenings so near her and not remember what had once burned between them?

“Uncle Seth?”

Seth looked down at the little face lifted to his.

“Okay,” he said briskly, “let’s move ‘em... Hey! Where’d these teddy bears come from? What happened to Randi and Robin?”

The girls giggled. “Here we are,” Randi said.

“Where?” Seth made a point of searching the room. “I hear you, but I don’t see you.”

“Right here,” Robin said. She poked him in the leg. “It’s me, Uncle Seth. See?”

“Aha!” Seth snatched up Robin and turned to Randi, but the little girl scampered over to Wendy.

“Can you take me, please?”

Wendy swallowed hard. “I’d love to, baby, but you’re such a big girl that I don’t think I can—”

“I know you can’t carry me,” Randi said with a child’s honesty. “You hurt your leg, right? I know ’cause you got a limp.”

Wendy felt as if someone had dumped cold water over her. Except for her doctors and therapists, nobody had ever been so blunt—and wasn’t that ridiculous? She
did
have a limp. It was the visible sign of her failure, her weakness, and she’d hated it for those reasons. Now, stated with such innocence, the word seemed to carry less meaning. Like the story about the emperor’s new clothes, it had taken a child to speak the truth.

Seth started to answer but she stopped him. “Yes, honey, you’re right. I did hurt my leg. And yes, I limp. So it might not be such a safe thing for me to carry you outside, when it’s slippery.” She smiled and reached for the child’s hand. “But we can hold hands. Would you like that?”

“That’s what I meant. We could hold hands.” Randi put her mittened fingers in Wendy’s. “How’d you hurt your leg, Aunt Wendy? Was it an accident?”

Amazing that such questions could be so easily asked—and even more amazing that they could be so easily answered.

“Yes. I had an accident.”

Seth held open the door. She caught a glimpse of his face as she and Randi went by. What was he thinking? She couldn’t tell. His eyes were hooded and his expression was noncommittal.

“My mommy had an accident. Lots of wood falled down on her.”

“I know. I heard about it.”

“But she’s almost all better now. Are you all better, too, Aunt Wendy?”

Was she? How did you answer a question like that? Her doctors said she was. So did her mother. And she suspected Seth would say she was, too.

“I—I’m lots better.”

“But not all?” Randi looked up at her. “You
look
all better. My mommy didn’t, not right away.”

“Randi,” Seth said from behind her.

“No. No, that’s okay.” Wendy tightened her hold on the child’s hand as they slowly made their way down the stairs and away from the porch. “I hurt my leg skiing,” she said matter-of-factly, “and I won’t really be better until I can ski again.”

“Oh.” Randi took a few seconds to digest that. “I like to ski.”

Wendy smiled. “Do you?”

“Uh-huh. Uncle Clint and Uncle Seth took us skiin’ right back there, behind the house.” She looked up at Wendy. “Can’t you ski if you have a limp?”

“You can, yes. But I...” But I what? Could she say, I don’t want to get on the slopes and have people pity me? I don’t want to be just another skier, I want to be Wendy Monroe, champion? Could she explain that she wanted to,
had
to, get that medal her father—well, she and her father—had worked toward for so many years?

How did you explain that to a three-year-old child when it was so hard to explain it to adults? When, more and more, it was hard to explain to yourself?

The sudden realization stole her breath away.

“Aunt Wendy?”

She looked at the innocent face still turned up to hers and found herself tongue-tied. Seth seemed to sense it.

“Hey,” he said, coming alongside them, Robin still riding his shoulders, “take a look at the size of those snowflakes!”

The diversion worked. Randi and Robin both tilted their heads back, oohed and aahed, stuck out their tongues to trap the flakes, and giggled.

“Thank you,” Wendy said softly.

Seth shrugged his shoulders. “That’s okay. It’s bad enough I subjected you to the third degree. No need for you to get it from the kids, too.” He cleared his throat and she could almost see him searching for a change of subject. “Quite a night, huh?”

Oh, it was. There was no wind, and though it was cold, it wasn’t the piercing cold that could come during a real New England snowfall. For now, the world was beautiful. Leafless oaks lined the driveway, holding their snow-laden branches to the black night in offering to the pagan gods of the storm.

“How are you doing, honey?” Wendy murmured to Randi, trudging along beside her.

“Fine,” the little girl said, but she was puffing hard.

Wendy leaned toward Seth, her breath visible in the cold night as she spoke quietly to him.

“It’s a lot for her, Seth. Maybe we should go back.”

“I have a better idea.” He lifted Robin from his shoulders and put her down. “Okay, guys. Everybody wait here.”

“Where are you going?” Wendy called as he started toward the house.

“I’ll be right back,” he yelled, and he waggled his hand over his head. She thought about the night they’d bumped into each other at the Purple Panda and how the gesture then had been one of dismissal. It was so different this time, just a reassuring way of saying he’d be back.

How happy she was that he would.

Drawing the children close, she let them lean against her legs.

“Is it okay?” Robin asked softly.

Wendy knew the child was asking if it was all right to lean on her because of her limp.