Her Baby Dreams (9 page)

D
an stood at the end of the walk at Adela's apartment house and surveyed the trucks waiting to be unloaded. He'd been blessed by the goodness of the community he lived in. Not only had folks spent all day today salvaging some of his belongings from the fire, but now they were donating things from their own homes for him to use in his temporary apartment. There would be no need for him to use money on furnishings until he was ready to move back into his house. Everything he could possibly need was here: couch and chair, bed, dresser, a box of cooking utensils, sheets and a spread. There was even a telephone sitting on top of one box.

“Y'all didn't need to go to all this trouble,” he said to the beaming group before him.

“Sure we did,” Norma Sue said. “What are friends for if not to help out in situations like this?”

“You would have done the same,” Clint said, letting the tailgate down and hopping up into the back of his truck. “Now, if you'll just grab that end, we'll get this couch upstairs.”

“I'll get the door,” Ashby called, and headed up the steps. Dan watched her go, then grabbed the end of the beige couch. He'd found himself watching her off and on all afternoon. She'd worked hard, looking for anything in the ashes that might be cleaned up. Though they hadn't found much other than the picture album and the jewelry, he viewed both as an act of God. How else could they have survived? The townspeople weren't aware that he'd been through this once before, when he and his mother left their home in the middle of the night with nothing but the clothes on their backs. He understood things were only things. But when Ashby had placed the soot-covered jewelry in his palm, he'd realized how much it meant to him. He'd found himself choked up as he gazed down at the items.

When he looked up to find Ashby watching him, he'd been startled by the expression of understanding he saw in her eyes. He'd felt a connection with her in that moment. The rest of the day they both stayed busy. While she'd really dug in and worked as hard as anyone, he'd caught her watching him sometimes…caught her because he'd been watching her most of the time. And though it might have been wishful thinking on his part, he thought she might finally have begun to see him in a better light.

“Be careful and don't trip,” Esther Mae called, bringing his thoughts back to the moment at hand. He backed up the path, glad he hadn't tripped while his mind wandered.

“This is a great couch, Clint,” he said, stepping up onto the porch before angling the heavy sofa through the doorway.

“It was mine before Lacy and I got married. I don't know if you've noticed, but my wife isn't into neutral tones.”

Dan laughed. “That's for sure.” Lacy wore some of the brightest clothes he'd ever seen. Not only had she painted her salon hot-pink, but she'd inspired others to become creative, to the point that Mule Hollow was starting to look like a rainbow. “I can't picture this tan couch, as nice as it is, in a home with Lacy.”

“Yup, she said that it was the perfect couch for a bachelor. Hope you don't mind if I sneak over every once in a while to visit it.”

Dan was backing up the steps now, and he paused to glance down at Clint. The man's happy marriage was inspiring to a guy like Dan, who'd lived in such a messed-up home. “You are welcome anytime, but somehow I don't think you'll miss it.”

 

The couch wasn't going to fit.

Ashby shook her head and watched as a cute and frustrated Dan, with the help of Clint, wrestled with the sofa. It wasn't going in, not the way they were trying to manhandle it through the doorway. To be fair to the couch, it wasn't the width that was the problem. She thought she'd found a solution, but Dan was so entertaining in his macho determination to impress her that she couldn't bear to interrupt. And impress her was clearly what he was trying to do. She was actually enjoying watching the way his forehead creased with consternation.

The hallway had long since grown congested with people waiting to carry their armloads into the apartment, and suggestions began to ring out.

Norma Sue suggested standing it up on end. That didn't work.

Esther Mae pointed at them with the floor lamp she was carrying and recommended taking the door off. “That's what we had to do last year getting my new hutch into the kitchen. I thought Hank was going to blow a gasket on that one.”

Hank grunted. “She's not telling a story on that. I was ready to haul that hunk of wood back to the antique store. Pronto.”

Ashby couldn't stand it any longer. “Try turning it upside down.”

“Upside down?” Dan asked.

He was standing close to her, since he'd set the couch down to study the doorway, and she realized she was enjoying his nearness more than she wanted. “It's a different dynamic like that. Flip it upside down and then angle it. I think it'll work.”

He looked from her to Clint. “It's worth a try.”

They picked it up again, and Ashby and Lacy grabbed the cushions. With Ashby directing them on the right way to angle the couch, they walked it through the door, no problem at all.

“Well, what do you know.” Esther Mae harrumphed. “Look, Hank, all you had to do was turn my hutch upside down!”

Everyone laughed when he rolled his eyes.

“Thanks, neighbor.” Dan grinned at Ashby and was rewarded with a smile. “So, you got it in here. Now where should I put it?” He and Clint stopped in the center of the small living room.

His midnight eyes met Ashby's. “Come on, don't be shy. I know you have an opinion. Don't you watch those shows on television that tell you how to do all this kind of stuff?”

“No, I don't. But set it here,” Ashby said, pointing at the floor in front of her. “This way the couch will act as a partition to the traffic coming from the doorway and the other rooms of the place. We'll put the chair there, and the television in that corner. Don't you agree, Lacy?”

She nodded, coming around the bar from the kitchen. “Move it, boys.” She clapped her hands, grinning at them.

Dan and Clint picked the couch up from where they'd set it between them and placed it where Ashby indicated. Then they backed away and studied their handiwork. “A woman's touch is a good thing,” Dan said. “I may have to get you to help me when my new place is ready. I'd have had all the chairs and the couch up against the walls.”

“My furniture is up against the walls,” Esther Mae said, as she stepped out of the bedroom. “Oh, I like that. I see what y'all mean.” She stared at the couch critically. “I want you and Lacy to come out to my place to rearrange my furniture.”

“There's nothing wrong with couches up against the wall,” Ashby protested. “But if that's what you want, we'll come.”

Dan and Clint exchanged looks.
Women.

“This will be fun,” Lacy said, leading the way out the door for another load.

“Not for me,” Hank groaned, following his wife. “That means I'll be hitting my toes on table legs when I get up in the dark.”

“You'll live,” Esther Mae said, shooting him an arch look over her shoulder. “We're outdated and these girls can bring us up to par.”

Everyone trailed out the door, chattering as they went. Ashby and Dan brought up the rear.

He studied her as they walked shoulder to shoulder down the stairs. He was enjoying himself immensely.

“I like your way,” he said. “The place is going to look homey.” He was a guy. It didn't really matter to him all that much, but he figured there was nothing wrong with things looking the best they could. Especially if it meant being around Ashby. They were alone at the bottom of the stairs and he stopped. “I might have to cook you dinner to show my appreciation.”

Ashby looked at him with a twinkle in her eyes. “Maybe you will.”

Dan was so surprised by her positive answer that he made the biggest mistake ever—he kissed her.

 

Pull away. Walk away,
the leftovers of Ashby's sane brain were screaming, as Dan lowered his lips to hers but…his lips were firm, unhesitant and oh, so wonderful.

As he pulled her close, his heart pounded next to hers. When his arms settled securely about her, with such practiced perfection, Ashby really wanted more than anything to pull away—but she was trapped. Trapped by the fact that his kiss was perfect, and so achingly sweet, Ashby felt as if she were floating…. How could she possibly pull away from such bliss—

“Hallelujah! I told you love was in the air!”

At the sound of Esther Mae's gushing exclamation, Ashby yanked herself out of Dan's arms, stumbling up against the wall. What had she done? She grabbed the banister for courage as much as for support. Not only was Esther Mae standing in the doorway, but Norma Sue and Adela, as well. All three were beaming at her with delight.

“Esther Mae, don't jump to conclusions,” Adela warned, overcoming the astonishment she and the others must have felt, coming upon Ashley and Dan locked in an embrace.

Ashby pushed all thoughts about it out of her mind. She was mortified, barely able to glance at Dan. He, on the other hand, was tickled pink. Literally. She looked closer at him, and found the cowboy's sun-bronzed skin was actually looking flushed.

Ashby wanted to wring his neck. She did, she really did.

But that wouldn't do at all.

“N
ow, ladies, don't get your hopes up. That was just a friendly thank-you kiss to Ash for all her help today.” Dan had messed up royally, and he was trying as calmly as he knew how to deter the matchmaking fervor before him.

But his head was fuzzy and Ashby was as purple as an overripe plum. He understood that perfectly, since it was about two hundred degrees where he was standing.

“I suddenly have a pain in my head,” she muttered between clenched teeth “If you'll excuse me, I'm sure you can finish this without me.”

Dan's temperature plummeted as he and everyone else watched her march stiffly up the stairs. Okay, he'd been right; he had messed up.

Just when he'd thought he had changed her perception of him, he'd gone and lost his good sense. He should have backed away the moment he realized he was going to kiss her.

But he hadn't been thinking—she'd just looked so cute accepting his dinner invitation, or at least alluding to it. He'd reacted out of his astonishment and kissed her. And she'd kissed him back. True, the minute his lips had touched hers and she'd responded so sweetly, he'd not been thinking about anything but how perfect she felt in his arms…when he should have been realizing she was just startled by his reaction. After all, she might have been totally teasing him and hadn't expected some overbearing oaf to kiss her! What a jerk he was—he didn't normally lose control of the situation, but where Ashby was concerned, he didn't seem to be in control at all anymore.

 

The overbearing, too-confident-for-his-own-good cowboy had kissed her, then acted as if it was no big deal.

And it wasn't. That's what she told herself as she scrubbed her kitchen counter. The sink. And again as she started on the cabinets of her already spotless kitchen. Seething, she glanced at the brass clock hanging over the stove. It had been exactly three hours since he'd kissed her. Three hours. The ill-mannered, uncouth man hadn't apologized yet, proving every bad thing she'd thought about him.

She knew the man was full of himself, but to just kiss her out of the blue like that showed a deeper lack of consideration than she'd expected from him, given the fact that she'd expressed her concern. His audacity was mind-boggling. And to think she was going to have to live beside him for weeks. Maybe months!

You kissed him back.

Ashby felt sick. She had. She really, really had kissed him back.

Truth was, for an instant before his lips touched hers, she'd wanted to kiss him. She had and, well, there was just no getting around it. Maybe it was her mother's phone call that morning. Maybe it was all these rebellious feelings cavorting around inside her, like balls in a bingo cage.

You kissed him back.
And that was what really bothered her.

She scrubbed harder even as she tried to tell herself to relax, that it was only a kiss. A light touching of the lips—it really had been nothing. But that was hard to do when she could still feel the impression of his lips as if he'd branded her.

Goodness.

This was ridiculous. It wasn't as if she hadn't been kissed before. So what was the big deal?

Face it, despite everything, you are attracted to Dan!

She flung her cleaning rag into the sink and stared out the kitchen window. She
shouldn't
be attracted to him.

Why?

He was a playboy, and the ungentlemanly kiss proved it.

Maybe not.

Men like him couldn't be trusted. He wasn't the man for her.

She needed to put him out of her head, get back on track and forget any of this had happened. Forget that she'd enjoyed spending time with him today. Forget that there were things about him she liked. Forget that when he looked at her, she felt like a girl again.

Ashby hung her head and took a deep, shuddering breath. For her it was all a fool's trail.

A shower would make her feel better, she decided, looking down at her clothes. It had been a long day. Feeling hopeful that she could wash the confusion out of her head, she walked down the hall to her bedroom.

A few minutes later, grit-free after a wonderful hot shower, she felt a bit more optimistic. Clad in her favorite mint-toned silk pajamas and matching wrap, she was heading back into the bedroom when she decided tonight would be a good night for a calming seaweed mask as she relaxed with her Bible study.

Turning back to the bathroom, she opened her cabinet and looked at the toiletry items lined up in perfect rows. Snatching a tube, she applied the contents in a thick layer. The lovely scent of mint enveloped her. “Nice, normal routine,” she told her reflection, noting how the seaweed mask on her face matched her silk wrap. Feeling more relaxed, she padded barefoot into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of grape juice. By the time she settled into bed, propped against her fluffed pillows with her Bible opened on her lap, she was feeling like herself again.

Ashby found the place in Philippians where she'd left off the night before, and started reading. With the discontent she'd been feeling, she'd had to be diligent in her Bible study of late. She wanted to trust the Lord even when she wasn't happy with her life, and it wasn't always easy to do. During times like this, she needed the Lord to speak to her through scriptures more than ever. She needed to be reminded that she wasn't alone in her struggles. Even Bible heroes and heroines had had times when they weren't completely satisfied….

Realizing that her mind had wandered from the verses in front of her, Ashby took a sip of grape juice and turned the page. “I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well-fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.” The verses jumped off the page at her.

Leaning back on the pillow, she closed her eyes, and immediately Dan's words came to mind.
For we brought nothing into this world and we'll take nothing out of it.
The rest of the verse was that if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that…. It really bothered her that he could spout off a verse like that and mean it. She felt petty and ungrateful. The man had just lost everything and he might be an oaf, but he seemed like a contented one. Who flirted and kissed like he was God's gift to women.

It just wasn't right.

Keeping her eyes closed, Ashby prayed that the Lord would help her focus and be content with her own life. That she would have the fortitude to wait for the man He had for her. If she were to have babies—and oh, how she hoped she would—then she would keep her wits about her.

The coolness of the mask seeped into her as the soothing scent wrapped around her, and she prayed God would help her with the resentments that were plaguing her. She knew that without His help she was going to have trouble with all of her requests…. She took a slow breath, relaxed into the soft mattress, and somewhere along the way, fell asleep….

A knock on her front door woke Ashby. She sat straight up and blinked. The knock came again, insistently, as if it had been going for a while. Disoriented for a moment, she glanced at the clock and was shocked to find it was morning. Of course, the sunlight streaming through her window might have been a clue, if she hadn't been so distracted by the banging on her door.

She'd slept like a log, obviously; the Bible had barely moved from her lap. Closing it and pushing it into the covers, she stumbled out of bed. Who was banging on her door at seven in the morning? Clutching her robe, she yanked the door open without looking through the peephole. All grogginess disappeared when she found Dan staring back at her.

For an instant he looked startled, which was odd, given that
he'd
just knocked on
her
door. The expression disappeared quickly as a smile spread across his face. Like a floodgate opening, all the frustrations from the day before swamped Ashby…but then hope bubbled up. Maybe he'd come to apologize for his unacceptable behavior.

It was about time.

Trying to appear as if she didn't care one way or the other, she lifted her chin and met his twinkling eyes, just as she realized her skin felt tight.
Seaweed and mint mask!
Her eyes widened in dismay as she fingered the crusty remains—she could only imagine what he was seeing.

“Hello, beautiful,” he crooned.

Wishing she could become the incredible shrinking woman and disappear, Ashby took one step back and, without uttering a word, slammed the door in his face. Berating herself all the way to the bathroom, she snatched up a hand towel, wetted it and started scrubbing. She could hear Dan's laughter through the door and down the hall.

She scrubbed harder as he tapped lightly on the outer door.

“Ash, open up. It's okay. I didn't mean that in a rude way.”

“Go away,” she shouted. Templetons didn't shout. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been mad enough to shout.

“Come on, Ash, open up. You look pretty in green.”

“‘You look pretty in green,'” she mimicked, then louder, for his ears, she demanded that he march back across the hallway and stay there!

He didn't. When she finally had all the green off her now bright pink face, she glared at her reflection in the mirror and knew that the only thing she could do was go answer the door. After all, four other tenants lived in the apartment house and were probably hearing everything that was going on.

Marching to the front door, she yanked it open. “What do you want?”

Smiling like Esther Mae's swashbuckling pirate, he held the plate of cheesecake toward her. “I come in peace. Stacy and the other ladies from the candy store dropped this off last night as a housewarming gift. I thought I'd share it with you.”

Ashby wanted to tell him to march right back across the hallway, because she couldn't be bought. But she loved cheesecake.

And this was his peace offering.

Her stomach growled. She bit her lip as the creamy concoction called out to her.

He, in perfect pirate form, waved the plate flagrantly beneath her nose. There were three pieces, each drizzled in strawberries. The cowboy did not fight fair. Crumbling, she reached for the plate.

“Nope.” He snatched it out of her reach. “You have to offer me coffee. Peace offering, remember?”

Ashby's grip on the door tightened as she gritted the top layer of enamel off her molars. The man was so sure of himself. Why couldn't he just say, “I'm sorry for acting like a jerk. Have some cheesecake. See ya later.” The last thing she wanted was to spend time with him.

But he was offering an olive branch.

She stepped back to let him enter. “Have a seat,” she said, indicating the bar stool in the small breakfast nook. She stepped into the kitchen and went to work preparing her coffeemaker. She didn't have to look at him to know he was surveying her living room. The idea of him seeing her things rubbed her the wrong way. She wasn't exactly certain why, but she felt he would judge her by what he saw. If he'd thought she needed to loosen up before, there was no telling what he'd think once he took a close look at her meticulous home.

Not ready to hear his comments, she mumbled that she would be back, then hurried to her room. Let him look and judge; what did it matter what he thought of her?

Her prickliness didn't subside as she brushed her teeth, so she took extra care brushing her hair and selecting a buttercup-yellow dress for church. Finally, after she'd completed her toilette, and had no other excuse, she padded back to the kitchen.

He was lounging against the counter, studying a picture of her and her parents. He looked up when she walked into the room, and his smile took her breath away. The man could bottle that and make a mint.

The kiss immediately came to mind, and her hand shook just a little as she took two mugs off the cup stand before reaching for the pot. She'd kissed him—embarrassment surged over her. Feeling his gaze, she focused on filling the cups. “How do you take yours?” she asked, and was glad that her voice sounded normal.

“Two sugars and two creams. This you and your parents?”

“Yes,” she replied, adding his sugar, then reaching into the fridge and grabbing the cream. “They still can't believe I moved out here. I'm not certain they'll ever forgive me. Of course, if I don't give them grandchildren soon, they won't care if I never come home again.”

“That bad, huh?”

She set his cup in front of him and grabbed extra plates and forks. The cheesecake lifted easily. “It's not that bad, I guess. But that's how I feel.” Why was she telling him this? The last thing she needed to do was talk to him about her parents.

She focused on the cheesecake. Not the greatest breakfast in the world, but she didn't really care. She loved a good cheesecake. “This looks wonderful.” She dipped her fork into her piece, then remembered herself. “We should bless this, although I'm a firm believer that God already blessed cheesecake. That's why it's so wonderful.” She was proud of herself for sounding so relaxed. So at ease. Especially when her insides were churning.