Passionate Bid (5 page)

“No. Nigel wants to stay here.”

Good lord. She was tired from working all day. Starting an argument with her daughter was the last thing she wanted right now.

The wind blew, rustling the tree branches. It would rain tonight, she thought. She looked back where they had been. The bridge was only a few yards away from them. It would be easier if she went back alone. She could run and see if the doll was there.

“Sam, I”ll get Dolly. Stay here. Don”t move okay.”

“Okay.”

“I can see you, bug.” Joanie walked backwards, her eyes on Sam. She’d be okay.

It’s safe here in the woods. They”d never seen a trespasser before and with the barbed fence, no wild animals had wandered in this area. She waved at Sam whose shoulders were already sagging.

As soon as they get home, she”d give her dinner and a quick bath. Sam slept better at night after a warm bath.

She jogged backwards and looked behind her. About thirty-five feet more and she”d be on the bridge. With one last look at Sam, she turned around and ran.

Her eyes darted left and right, scanning the path for Dolly. Where are you, Dolly? If the doll weren”t on the path, then that would leave her the bridge.

Except for the leaves Sam had picked and scattered on the bridge, there was no sign of the rag doll. If Sam dropped Dolly in the water, she”d be downstream by now. She looked back at Sam talking to the frog. Good, bug. On her knees, she scanned the area below. Ferns, rhododendrons, and sticker bushes lined both sides of the stream. But where the heck was the doll? She went down on all fours, crawled and checked the other side of the bridge.

“I told her not to bring Dolly, but nooo! She had to insist. Now, she”s gone.

Damn it.”

Where the heck is she? Joanie thought for a moment. Could it be that Dolly was underneath? Glad to see Sam was still standing where she should be, Joanie lay down on her belly and then hung her head on the side of the bridge to peek.

Julian couldn”t believe it. A little girl stood on the path all by herself. He looked around for a sign of Joanie, gun toting Saint Claire, or anybody. No one was around.

The girl must have sensed him coming. She turned around to look at him.

Pretty girl, Julian thought. She wore pink shorts, white top with butterflies printed on the front. Her sandals, also pink, showed her tiny little toes. But her green hat was interesting. It looked like a soldier”s hat a boy would wear. Whose child was she? If she was Joanie”s, the woman wasn”t fit to be a mother. Didn”t she know how dangerous it was to leave a child alone?

Little fingers waved at him. He waved back. “Hey there. Lost your mommy?

“No. I lost Dolly.”

“Need help finding her?”

“No, thank you. Mama”s looking for her.”

Julian scoffed and shook his head. Unbelievable, he mused. He”d seen and heard enough stories about parents losing their children because they left them alone only for a few minutes to grab a cup of coffee, get a car key, or shop for a loaf of bread. Parents who thought they could do any of those things without keeping an eye on their children had no common sense and shouldn”t be allowed to have children.

“I”m Julian. What”s your name?”

“Papa said I can”t talk to strangers.” The little girl ended her last word with a yawn, then rubbed her eyes.

“And he”s right.” He took a few steps to close their gap, then squatted in front of the girl. She was more than a pretty girl. She was a beauty with big, dark blue eyes, wide plump baby rosy lips and thick black locks. If her hair were golden, she could be Goldilocks. Someday, this girl would break many hearts. The girl”s eyes, he thought, were not Joanie”s. One thing he remembered clearly about Joanie was her green eyes behind her thick glasses. “Where”s your mama?”

“Mama”s getting Dolly.”

“Where?”

“There on the bridge.” The girl pointed her little chubby finger toward the bridge.

Julian saw the bridge but no one was there. “Should we go there?”

“Mama said stay here. Do you like butterflies?”

“Yeah, I do. Are they your favorites?”

“Uh-huh. But we didn”t catch one today. Only Nigel. See?” She lifted her tank and tapped on it. A tiny frog jumped into the corner of the tank. “Yesterday I got a big butterfly. But I let it out. You know why?”

“No. Why?”

“Causseee,” she sighed. “I have to go to sleep.”

“Ah, I see.”

“You did?”

“Did what?”

“See me let go of the butterfly.”

“No. I see is just an expression.”

“Mama said the butterfly needs to go home.”

“And she”s right. Are you going to let Nigel out, too?” The little girl bit her lower lip. “Maybe. I painted the butterfly. Wanna see it?”

“Sure. But first I need to talk to your mama.” As an afterthought, he asked for her mother”s name. “What is your mama”s name?”

“Sam!”

Julian stood up and looked at the woman who bellowed the girl”s name as if the world was about to end.

“Bug, come here. Now.”

“Mama! You found Dolly.” Sam ran toward her mother.

“I told you I”d find her.”

It didn”t escape Julian the simple gesture the mother did. She looked at Sam from head to toe as if making sure the girl wasn”t hurt before pushing Sam behind her. She was protecting her daughter.

Shit, if he were a predator, he and her daughter would have been gone by now.

Julian returned the woman”s stare. She was holding a dripping doll in one hand and a small pack on the other, her expression was unreadable. Leaves clung to her hair. The front of her white blouse was dirty as if she had been lying on dirt and her shoes were wet. She may look unkempt, but this wasn”t Joanie.

“Hello,” he greeted and waved his hand in the air. It could be the light, but it looked like the woman was turning paler by the minute. She licked her lips repeatedly and held the child behind her away from his view. The way she was slowly moving backwards, one would think she wanted to bolt and run away from him. “Hello,” he repeated. “I come in peace.” His joke didn”t earn a laugh or smile.

“You”re trespassing.”

“Sorry. I met a lady and she told me to come here.”

Sam peeked from behind her and waved her little hand at him again.

“Why are you here?”

“I”m Julian Ravenwood. I”m here to see the Saint Claires, but nobody answered their door. Do you know if…”

The woman shook her head slowly back and forth as if she were seeing a ghost. Her eyes were big and her mouth slightly open.

“Do you know if…” he started again. But he couldn”t finish his question. This woman looked oddly familiar. No way. Impossible. She couldn”t be Joanie.

“Do I know what?” she asked.

“I”m looking for Joanie Saint Claire. Do you know her?” Sam tugged at her mother”s hand. “Mama, your name is Joanie Saint Claire.” Joanie groaned, but he heard Sam”s words as clear as the bright sun in Hawaii during summer.

“Joanie?” It didn”t escape him when she rolled her eyes. Julian couldn”t believe he was facing the same woman he left crying four years ago. Gone were her glasses, braces, and ugly paint-stained shirt he”d seen her wear many times before.

Her hair was still wild, but with the afternoon sun shining on it, the strands looked like silk. Her low rider jeans and shirt that barely met showed the flatness of her stomach. Joanie, the untidy nerd. Who would have thought she”d turned out to be a hottie?

Holy crap, he married a beautiful wife after all. How about that? All this time, he expected to see the same Joanie he left behind. This was a pleasant surprise. Beauty or not, he must tread carefully. She had what he needed and what better way to get it than to be nice to her. He took a few steps forward and extended his hand.

“Good to see you again, Joanie. You look great.” She continued staring at him and ignored his hand. “I see you”re a mama to a beautiful girl. Sam right?”

“I”m Sam.”

“Hello, Sam. I”m Doctor Julian Ravenwood. Kids call me Doctor Julian. How do you do?”

“I do drawings and catch butterflies. I like hopping, running, and my friend Marcus likes to eat bugs. Not me.”

Julian laughed at Sam”s innocent, honest reply. He liked this little girl.

“What are you doing here?” Joanie didn”t wait for his answer. In a brisk tone, she asked Sam to pick up her net. “Bug, let”s go.” Joanie grabbed Sam”s hand and walked past him. He got a whiff of her perfume…no, it wasn”t perfume, soap. She smelled of soap and something else. “We need to talk, Joanie.” He followed behind, his gaze focused on her well-rounded ass. Nice, he thought.

“Are you going to see my drawing?” Sam looked back, her little feet trying to catch up with her mother”s long stride.

“Sure, bug.”

“Stop!” Joanie turned around so fast he nearly collided with her. “Her name is Sam. You, Doctor Julian Ravenwood, have no right to call her bug.”

“My papa called me bug,” Sam piped in.

So Joanie indeed found another man. He looked at the child. Man, she didn’t waste time replacing me. “My mistake. Sam, I would like to see your drawing. But first, I need to talk to your mother.”

“I”m busy. We”re busy. Sam is tired. She needs her dinner and bath. I am tired and have tons of cleaning to do. Come back when we are available.”

“It”ll take only a minute.”

“I don”t have a minute or a second. You need to leave. Write me a letter or something. Call me on the phone. But you have to leave.”

“I will as soon as you give me a minute.”

“Fine. Why don”t you tell me whatever it is you want to say here and leave?”

“Mama, he said he wants to see my drawing. The big butterfly.” He looked at Sam. Her little quivering voice tugged at his heart. “On second thought, I think, it”ll take more than a minute or two to say what I want and maybe half a minute for you to sign the papers. While—”

“What papers? I signed them all.”

“No, you didn”t. At least not the papers that I mailed to you twice but came back twice.” The only paper she signed was their marriage certificate. Was she talking about those? But I have the certificate.

“I like papers. I like to draw,” Sam said.

“What came back twice? Julian, I have no idea what you”re talking about.”

“Joanie, I”m talking about the divorce papers.”

“I got to go poopoo,” Sam announced with a hint of urgency in her voice.

Joanie dropped the net on the ground, picked up her daughter then ran.

Images of Julian had been her constant companion over the years. More than a handful of times, she had thought about seeing him again and how she would feel if she did. Now she knew. Choked. Breathless. Mixtures of indescribable emotions danced around her heart, making it impossible to breathe.

When she spotted him talking to Sam she felt joyous, almost like crying. But the feeling was short-lived. Panic associated with questions about Julian”s sudden reappearance tore through her. Was he here for Sam, how did he find out, why now? It was only when he mentioned his reason for coming that she began to breathe, albeit shakily, again.

So he was here to serve her. She knew it was only a matter of time before he would ask her for a divorce. For a while, she waited for that time to come.

Whenever the phone rang, she”d jump. Afraid to answer, thinking it was Julian on the other line waiting to give her the final blow, her stomach would clench. But it had been years since he left his wedding ring on her dresser and the call or letter from him didn”t come. Now, he was here.

What took him so long? And what was he blabbering about the divorce papers she returned and didn”t sign? And there was the issue about her papers. He didn”t say anything about those. Didn”t he get them? Well, maybe not because he brought his own papers for her to sign. So what the heck happened to her papers?

Gah! Everything was turning into one of those convoluted stories Sam would sometimes tell her.

She stole a glance at him. Julian was leaning against the doorjamb quietly observing Sam sitting at the kitchen table tapping her fingers on the tank. He looked every bit as the last time she”d seen him. His dark, wavy hair, cut unevenly, gave him a rock-star look. Joanie took advantage and began to assess him. The rich outlines of his shoulders strained against the long-sleeved shirt he wore. His casual stance showed the length of his thighs and slimness of his waist. What a man. Tall, handsome and with a well-proportioned body.

She bet women were gaga over him just like her—when she was a silly seventeen year old. Julian reminded her of a model in the book cover she read the other day. He had that warrior type build but not in the freaky, bulky, Mister Universe way. Come to think of it, he even looked yummier compared to the model.

Yummy? Damn it. Stop it, Joanie. You shouldn’t see the man who left you like a discarded rag as yummy. He left you, remember?

“Right.”

Julian looked up. “Did you say something?”

Joanie cleared her thought. Dumb move, Joanie. Stop talking aloud. “No. Do you mind if I feed Sam first before we talk about your papers?”

“I don”t mind. I”ll wait in the living room while you take care of Sam. And Joanie, just call me Julian.”

Joanie nodded her head without any intentions of calling him by his first name again. First name basis wasn”t for strangers, and he”d been one since he left.

It should stay that way. “Sam, wash your hands, please. I already put Dolly in the washer. She”ll be clean, too, when she comes out.”

“Yay!”

“I”ll make your dinner.”

“Hotdogs! I”m getting hotdogs, Mama?” Sam clapped her hands, her eyes big.

“Well, I know its Friday, Bug, but—”

“Do you like hotdogs? Wanna have some?” Sam asked Julian.

Julian smiled at Sam, then looked at Joanie. “I do. Hotdogs are my favorite.

But I am not invited for dinner, Sam.”

“Why? Do you spill ketchup on the table? Marcus does it a lot. Papa said he”s a messy-messy boy. He can”t have a hotdog with ketchup, nah-uh.” Julian surprised Joanie when he picked up Sam and sat her on the edge of the kitchen sink. He helped wash her hands. Joanie noticed he washed Sam”s forearms and feet, too. Sam squealed from getting tickled. “I don”t spill food on the able Sam, but your mama didn’t invite me for dinner.”