Mixed Signals (43 page)

She knew all about money hassles.

Those days were over. Forever, she hoped.

“So, we’ll see you at noon.” She could feel her heart picking up speed at the thought of seeing him again. Was he still a skinny guy, blond hair falling in his face, with blue-gray eyes like Josh’s? Come to think of it, she’d been eyeballing a pint-size version of David Cahill for eight years. Not a chance she’d wouldn’t recognize him.
Not hardly
.

“Joshua eats anything but fish. Me, I’m not picky in the least. You learn to eat anything when funds get tight.” She paused, realizing how that must have sounded to him. “Uh … David, I know I said this in a letter once, but I want you to know how much those checks meant to us. The money went right for groceries, every month. We would have starved without you.” A little dramatic, but she wanted to make him feel important, appreciated.

“I did what I could, Sherry. I’m sorry it wasn’t more.”

More? Gee whiz, the guy is a saint!
She’d better sew things up with him in a hurry, before another woman in town found out what a gem he really was, Cahill or not. The time hadn’t been right before. He was settled now. Had a good job. A house. The timing was perfect.

The timing could not have been worse.

David hung the receiver back in place, numb to his toes. What had he done? Agreed to make lunch for Sherry and Josh Robison, that’s what.

He couldn’t risk being seen with them in a hotel restaurant, having people making assumptions, spreading rumors. Not to mention if Sherry made a scene … No, home court was best.

He looked around at the stacks of dirty paper plates, empty glasses, discarded napkins. At least he wouldn’t have to cook, not if they’d willingly eat chicken salad and country ham. Food was the least of his concerns. The auburn beauty walking toward him was what worried him most.

Belle stretched up and kissed the end of his nose. “You’re looking awfully serious for a man who hosted the grandest housewarming event of the decade.” Her full lips opened wide for a heart-stopping smile. “Come say good-bye to Norah and Patrick with me.”

Grateful for the distraction, he followed her into the foyer where the happy couple was making their much-heralded exit. “We’re off to the Martha,” Patrick announced with a roguish leer. “See you Methodists at the second service tomorrow.”

The newlyweds found their car, mysteriously draped with crepe paper and strung with tin cans, a hand-lettered
Just Married
sign poking up in the back window. Good old Frank the Crank, David guessed with a half smile.
He waved the two off, noticing most of the others were gathering their coats and heading for the crowded driveway as well.

The hour was late. Not too late, he hoped. He desperately needed to talk to Belle. The sooner the better.

“At last I have you all to myself.” Belle curled up at the end of the couch, angled close to the fading embers of the fire in a room that had suddenly grown chilly. She’d been watching David closely, ever since she’d found him standing in the kitchen earlier, looking as if he’d lost his best friend.

It had been an emotionally taxing month, she knew, what with the decision about WBT, facing Sherry’s dad at the bank, reuniting with his own father.
No wonder the guy looks worn out
. She crooked a finger in David’s direction. “Come and sit with me, handsome. I’ve got something to tell you.”

“Me, too.” He poked some life into the fire then joined her on the couch, pulling her into his arms. “You go first.”

She gently pulled back from his embrace.
Look him in the eye, woman. Let him know you’re serious
. “David, it’s taken me a long time to admit something to myself. Now that I have, it’s time I told you.” She could hear the trembling in her voice, feel the dryness in her mouth.

Wet your lips. Make them move. Go!

“I love you, David. With all my heart, I love you.” Despite her best efforts to hold them back, tears sprang to her eyes. “You’re the kindest, wisest, most godly man I’ve ever known. I know you’ve waited a month to hear this. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long. Tonight seemed like … well, the perfect time.”

There
. She’d done it.
Not so horrid after all
.

But he wasn’t smiling.
Why isn’t he smiling, Lord?
Her heart was behaving like a set of snare drums again, a flurry of beats without rhythm.

It was worse when he finally spoke. “Belle, I’m … I’m so … grateful.”

“Grateful? David Cahill, grateful is what you feel when your mother does your laundry. Not when a woman pours her heart out and says she loves you.”

She could feel her chest tightening, a sob building.
No! No dramatics, Belle
.

When his long arms reached to pull her closer, she planted her hands firmly on his chest. “No, you don’t. This isn’t something you can cuddle and make go away. You had something to tell me, yes? Suppose you get on with it before I make a bigger fool of myself.”
As if that’s humanly possible
.

“Belle, I love you. You know that.”

She sniffed, her chin buried in her chest. “Good of you to mention it again. I’d almost forgotten.”

He put one finger under her chin and lifted it up until their eyes met. Sincerity filled his face. Relief, she suspected, filled hers.

“I’ve said it as many times in as many ways as I possibly can.” He dropped his hand and leaned back, obviously needing the distance. “I … I got a phone call tonight that … surprised me.”

“Who from?”

“Sherry Robison.”

A gasp escaped her lips before she could catch it. “That … 
that
Sherry?”

He nodded, looking grim.

“Why? Where is she? What was she calling about? Was Josh with her?” Belle realized she sounded ridiculous, hysterical. “Tell me some good news. Quick, before I faint.”

“I don’t have any good news.”

She didn’t faint, but she did slump over convincingly. “Don’t tell me she’s here in Abingdon.” It came out on a moan. When he didn’t answer her immediately, it was worse than if he’d said the words.
Yes. She’s here
.

With some effort, she lifted her head. “Why did she come back, David?”
I don’t really want to know. Tell me anyway
.

“I’m … not sure.”

Yes, you are. She wants you back. I can see it on your face. All over your handsome face
.

“Oh?” It was all she trusted herself to say.

He told her then. About the check from George Robison. How he’d mailed it to Sherry. How she’d apparently used the money to wind up her affairs in California and move back home.

Belle groaned two full octaves. “When are you seeing her?”

His eyes darkened. “How did you know?”

“I’m a woman, David. In case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I noticed, Belle.” He said it through clenched teeth.

“I know how we women think. She’s going to use your son to get you back.”

David abruptly stood to his feet. The gaze he fixed on her was as hard as his jawline and every bit as stubborn.

“That’s outrageous, Belle. The woman hasn’t spoken to me for eight years. The last time I heard her voice she was laughing in my face. I’m eager to see Josh, yes. But Sherry? No way. The woman means nothing to me, do you hear me? Nada. Zip.”

“I hear you. And I believe you.” Any trace of humor in the moment had vanished. She, who always sought out silver linings, saw nothing but black clouds ahead, starting with his brooding gray eyes.

She stood, too. Though her hair barely brushed his chin, she wanted to seem strong, able to handle this bump in the road.
Not a roadblock, Lord. Please don’t let it be a roadblock
.

David’s voice was firm, matter-of-fact. “I’m having the two of them over here tomorrow for lunch. No big deal, leftovers from the party, a chance to meet my son. A chance to explain to Sherry that, should she entertain any ideas of us getting back together, that’s an impossibility.” He slid his hands down her arms with a strong enough grasp to get her attention, to force her to look up at him, whether she wanted to or not.

And stuff it all, she wanted to. Sherry or no Sherry, this was her man and she loved him. Intended to keep him. Fight for him, if necessary.

His eyes were clear, his words convincing. “I love you, Belle. You have nothing to worry about here. I’ll call you the minute they leave tomorrow. Better yet, why don’t you come over at three and meet them both? She’ll see how serious our relationship is and that will be the end of it.”

Was this a tiny slice of silver lining?
“Promise you’ll tell her I’m coming, so I won’t feel stupid barging in on your cozy threesome.”

“I’ll tell her. Everything will be fine.” He circled his arms around her in an embrace clearly intended to end the conversation. His warm kiss, suitably
long and utterly persuasive, chased away the last of her doubts.

When he finally lifted his lips from hers and checked his watch, he angled his thumb toward the door and murmured, “You’d better head for Main Street, sweetheart.”

“What? And leave this mess for you to clean up? No way.” Belle slipped out of his arms and began gathering up the debris. “I want this place to shine tomorrow. Sherry will take one look at it and
know
you have a woman in your life who loves you. Got me, mister?”

David’s laugh rolled across the room, warming her to her toes. “Yeah, I got you, Belle. And like it or not, you’ve got me.”

Sherry got there exactly at noon. David watched her pull up in her car—bright yellow, just as Josh had described it—then sit there.

Why doesn’t she get out?
David opened the front door, impatient to see his son. Hadn’t he waited long enough? He stepped out on the porch as they began climbing out of the small car.

She’s older
. Of course, she would be. Wasn’t he? The eight years hadn’t taken much of a toll on her, though. She was still a small thing, with a few more womanly curves. Still had curly brown hair. Wearing it shorter, maybe. Looked good on her. Her face had filled out. Softened. She was smiling. Wearing a lot of makeup, he thought, but she looked nice.
Very nice
.

Then Josh ran around to her side of the car, and David had eyes only for him.

The resemblance was uncanny. The hair, the eyes, the build. He was staring at his own school pictures from third grade come to life. His chest constricted so tightly he couldn’t speak.
Welcome home, Josh
, he wanted to say.
I love you, son
.

Then Josh grinned, big enough to show off his missing teeth, and David felt the vise around his chest relax enough for him to breath again.

The waiting was over. His son was here.

“Come in!” David pushed open the door behind him. Sherry hadn’t taken her eyes off him for a second.
Is she disappointed? Have I changed so
much?
Josh ran ahead of her, stumbling through the door, then turning to be sure his mother was coming close behind. Sherry brushed past David. Closer than necessary, he thought.
Blushing, too
. Her perfume was nice. Like a flower.

Finally, she spoke. “What a great place.” Her eyes met his. “Did you do all this?”

He was surprised to hear his voice sound normal. “Good bit of it. My dad helped, too.”

“Your dad?”

He understood the incredulous look on her face.

“No offense, but I didn’t think your father could hammer a straight nail. At least, not when I left town.”

David rushed to his defense, trying not to bristle. “The man’s changed. Been sober for four years. Doing well for himself, living in Damascus.”

“That’s terrific.” She smiled brightly, seemed sincere. “Josh, you got anything to say to your dad or are you gonna stand there and be shy?”

David grinned at the boy who was holding his mother’s hand like a younger child might. David hunkered down, bringing his eyes in line with Joshua’s, now open wider than ever. “I was shy at your age, Josh. No problem.” He squeezed the boy’s shoulder, longing to hug him for all he was worth.

“I’m not shy. I’m scared.”

They both laughed and Sherry tousled Josh’s hair. “Scared of what, young man? David is as trustworthy as they come. Aren’t you, David?”

He straightened to his feet and she looked at him then, really looked, with a steady, knowing gaze. The gaze of a woman who’d known him better than anyone else—including Belle.

Her voice had softened and she spun the words out like liquid gold. “David Cahill is, above all things, a man to be trusted.”

He felt the heat rising from his chest, crawling up his neck.
What is she getting at?
He tried to brush it away with a casual response. “Thanks … I think.”

“No thanks necessary.” She smiled, a half smile this time, full of secrets. “Joshua, your father is the kind of man who always does the right thing.”

The boy beamed at him. “Gosh, that’s good, isn’t it?”

“I try.” He didn’t like the way this conversation was going.

“You do more than try, you succeed.” Sherry patted his arm, sending him a message that he was doing his level best not to receive.

“Let’s eat.” He said it more forcefully than he meant to, though neither of his guests seemed to notice. “I’ve got everything spread out in the kitchen.”

Sherry fussed over the remodeled room, noticing all the details and nodding her approval. He watched as her eyes took in the new cabinets, almost as if she were loading them up with her own groceries.

Lunch proceeded without a hitch. They ate everything he offered them. Josh especially was stuffing food in as fast as a boy missing two teeth could chew. David knew the signs.
He’s gone hungry more than once
. It had been tough for Sherry in California, tougher than she was making it out to be with her breezy description of ocean cliffs and giant redwoods.

When she asked for a tour of the house, he obliged her, hurrying through the upstairs bedrooms, noticing how she lingered there, measuring both rooms with her eyes. He spent more time in the living room, showing off his father’s built-in bookcases and the mantel he’d refinished to a fine umber.