Promise me tomorrow (39 page)

Darcey wasn't elderly by any stretch of the imagination, but she was a widow, all her children grown and gone. She lived alone in a comfortable home downtown. Chase remembered that he'd taken care of the sale of some property for her several years earlier, and they had gotten along very well. He decided to approach her at once.

"I need to speak to someone," Chase told Rusty when the congregation was dismissed.

"All right. Quin and I can visit. Do you want to find us, or should we come for you?"

"I'll find you."

The last strains of the postlude were just ending when Chase reached the front. Darcey spotted him immediately and came off the bench with a smile.

"Well, Chase McCandles, how are you?"

"I'm well, Mrs. Lackland. How about yourself?"

"Can't complain," she said with a smile. "You look like a man with a mission."

"As a matter of fact, I am. I have a business proposition for you. '

"This sounds interesting."

The two sat in the front pew to talk, and although Chase could see that he had surprised the organist, she was not against the idea of giving up one of the bedrooms in her home. She liked her privacy, she explained, and Chase was able to reassure her that Rusty would be at Briarly nearly every day. He offered her a generous monthly amount that made her brows rise, and even insisted when she tried to protest.

"When would you need her to come?"

"The sooner the better."

Darcey eyed him. "Like that, is it?"

Chase looked pleased without smiling. "Yes. It's not going to be as easy or convenient to have her away from Briarly, or as much fun for that matter, but it's the best thing right now."

"May I let you know in a week?"

"Absolutely. I haven't checked with anyone else. I will, though—ask around a little bit more. That way you won't feel pressured."

"Please don't," Darcey replied quickly. "I can all but give you a yes right now, but I tend to do things too swiftly. By making myself think about this for a week, I'll know if I've done the right thing."

"That's fine. Would you like to meet Katherine?"

"I believe I would. Who knows, she might take an instant disliking to me."

Chase laughed, remembering all at once how fun this woman was. Five minutes later, Rusty thought so too. Chase introduced them and then explained the plan. Rusty wasted no time learning whether Darcey had grandchildren, and with that they were off. She heard all about their ages and personalities. As fascinating as Rusty was to watch, Chase's eyes were on Darcey as the women spoke. Her smile was nonstop, and he felt confident that the older woman's forthcoming answer would be in the affirmative.

Rusty enjoyed herself as well. She had wondered where she would end up in all of this, but there was no need to worry. By the time they said their goodbyes and walked to the waiting carriage, she was floating on a cloud.

"I forgot to check with her about the cost," Rusty commented as she stopped and looked back to find her.

"I'll be taking care of it," Chase told her and turned to help her into the carriage.

"All right. I guess adjusting my salary would be just as easy."

"I won't need to do that."

Rusty wasn't very comfortable with Chase spending more money, but she didn't question him right then. Back at Briarly, however, Quintin said his pants made his legs itch and asked if he could go right to his room. Rusty gave him leave, but she did not step down from the carriage herself.

"I don't know much about the way the well-to-do live," she began quietly, "but I do know that they don't keep their money by giving all of it away."

"You're talking about the salary."

"Yes. You already pay me a generous amount. If you're going to pay for my room, then I think you should cut my pay or let me pay Mrs. Lackland out of the salary I get now."

Chase didn't answer her. He sat next to her in the carriage, his arm along the seat back, and stared into her
eyes.

"Have I told you that your eyes are beautiful?" he said suddenly.

"I'm not sure."

"I'm not trying to distract you, by the way. We can talk about the salary for as long as you like, but I didn't want to forget to tell you that I think your eyes are beautiful."

"I hated the color when I was a child," Rusty admitted.

"Why?" Chase asked gently, wishing he could have seen her as a little girl.

"People stared, and one of the other girls at school was cruel about them. She and I eventually became friends, but for a few years she hated me."

"Jealousy?"

"I think so. Her home was a mess. Her father yelled a lot. Our teacher was wonderful—everyone loved him—and of course he was my father."

"When did you begin to love children?"

"When an abandoned baby was left at our door."

Chase blinked at her. "What did you do?"

Rusty smiled. "We kept her. It's Dana."

Chase's mouth dropped open. "I had no idea. I mean, she even has red hair like you and Les."

Rusty smiled. "Amazing, isn't it? No one even remembers that she wasn't born to my parents. It's as though she's always been there."

"No wonder you're so special."

Rusty smiled. "That was a nice thing to say."

"I meant it. And it's also the reason I want to take care of your room with Darcey Lackland, as well as leave your salary where its been." He paused and stared at her again, his hand coming up to caress her cheek. "If you really aren't comfortable with it, I'll do what you want, but if you haven't caught on yet, Katherine, I do things differently where you're concerned. I always have, even before I realized I loved you."

"How can I possibly refuse an offer like that?"

Chase smiled. "You can't, just as I hoped you wouldn't." This time he leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Ready for some lunch?"

"Yes, I am. Quintin never came back. I wonder if he got out of his pants."

Chase helped her to the ground and offered to see to Quintin. He left the carriage for Whit.

The afternoon was spent in idle pursuits. Rusty and Quintin put a puzzle together, and Chase fell asleep on the davenport while reading a book. They walked in the woods and talked a little of the future; Rusty knew her heart was falling fast. It was bedtime before it hit her that this was probably her last week at Briarly, at least for a time. She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep quickly—anything to block out the pain of leaving for who knew how long.

***

Tuesday morning found Rusty and Quintin on the floor of the drawing room, newspapers spread in front of them, working on small dolls they had made from sticks and pieces of cloth. They had two families completed, including grandparents, a dog, and one horse.

"This is your mother, Aunt Rusty," Quintin said seriously.

"Thank you, Quin. I'll put her with my father. Now, does your family have the dog or the horse?"

Before he could answer, Chase wandered through. He took a seat on the nearest ottoman, and Quintin explained to him all about the families. The little boy stumbled a little as he got to the mother of his own family—he didn't have a name for her—but he went on to tell the dogs name, and Chase praised him warmly before saying he had to get back to work. He stood and moved away after a smile to Rusty, and the two dollmakers went back to their play.

"I wish our dolls had hair, Aunt Rusty."

"Oh, Quin, what a good idea! We could use some of my hair."

"Really?" The little boys eyes were round with excitement. "Could we really?"

"Of course. It's a great idea. Do you know where my little sewing scissors are?"

"Katherine, I would have a word with you," Chase spoke, very suddenly back at her side.

He was roundly ignored.

"In your little sewing box in your closet?" Quintin questioned.

"That's right. Now you mustn't run or even walk fast once you have them in your hand."

"Katherine." Chase's voice came through again, but the woman in question had eyes only for

Quintin.

"I'll find some glue and—" Rusty cut off when Chase stepped direcdy in front of her.

Bending low, he brought her to her feet.

"If you'll excuse us for just a moment, Quintin, I must have a word with Aunt Rusty." Without waiting for an answer, Chase pulled Rusty through the drawing room, into his office,

and shut the doors. Quintin dropped back to his knees next to the newspaper but did not pick up

his dolls. His eyes were on the glass doors that led to his fathers office and the man and woman inside.

43

"You will not do this," Chase told Rusty firmly, his voice very low. He bent over her in an attempt to make himself understood. "You will not cut your hair."

"It wont be very much," she explained as if he hadn't spoken.

"You will not, Katherine, and I mean it."

"It's perfect. I don't know why I didn't think of it before."

"You're not listening to me," Chase tried again. "You will not cut your beautiful hair."

"Chase," Rusty said gently, putting her hand on his chest. "It's such a good idea, and Quin will be so pleased."

Her hand, her huge eyes, and the softness of her voice all worked to stop him in his tracks. This was who she was. This was the woman he'd fallen for. She did not leave things undone, not even stick-doll making. Chases chest rose on a huge sigh, and for a moment his eyes closed. He opened them again and found her still staring up at him. Chase stared helplessly back. Carla had been so mild. She'd been steady and quiet and very predictable. Never once had she hid under his desk. With Rusty he never knew what was going to happen from one day to the next, yet he loved her with all his heart.

"Chase?" She spoke his name with soft uncertainty.

"I told myself if you ever called me Chase, I would kiss you."

Rusty smiled and glanced out the door. Quintin was just where they'd left him, his
eyes
on their every move. Rusty looked back at the man with her.

"We have an audience in the other room."

Chase didn't even bother to glance toward the door.

"He'll have to get used to the sight," he whispered and lowered his head to tenderly brush her lips with his own. It was brief, but oh so sweet, and when he raised his head, he smiled warmly into her eyes. Not able to refrain from touching her, he tenderly cupped her jaw and let his thumb stroke over her cheek. For an instant Rusty's eyes closed. He made her feel so warm and cherished. She looked up at him, her
eyes
saying the words before she could utter them.

"This isn't the place I would have chosen to tell you," she whispered softly, "but I love you, Chase McCandles."

'This place is fine," he said, his voice low, his
eyes
drilling into hers. "I'll hear those words anytime you want to say them."

Rusty couldn't speak. Her heart was too full. He was the one. She had led with her head, and now her heart had followed. He was the one she could share her life with. They stood close for a moment, not speaking, just looking at each other. It was some moments before Rusty forced her mind back to the little boy in the next room.

"I need to get back to Quin."

"Is the hair issue settled?"

Rusty nodded her head. "Yes. I won't cut it if you don't want me to, but I just need a little. The dolls are so small." He could see that her creative mind was working again. "Actually, I was hoping to get some of yours too."

Chases head went back as he laughed.

"You could spare some, Chase," she said matter-of-factly. "Just a little off at the neckline. I would be so careful."

Chase was ready to kiss her again, but both adults caught movement through the glass doors. After hearing his fathers laugh, Quintin had come close, his little face a mix of anticipation and anxiety. Chase beckoned to him with one hand and he came in with a smile. Chase lifted him on one arm and put the other one around Rusty.

"Are we going to cut Aunt Rusty's hair now?"

"Yes," his father said, having reconsidered. "Just a little." He looked down at the woman who had been an unending source of surprise and delight. "It looks as though I'll lose some of my own too.

This news was naturally met with rave reviews from his son, and Rusty beamed at him before leading the way into the drawing room for haircuts and to finish the dolls. Chase never did go back to work. When everyone got hungry, he suggested a picnic lunch.

They were off in the open carriage less than an hour later, the picnic basket tucked safely in the back. Chase didn't tell Rusty where they were headed, but he stopped the horses by the pond, and they walked to the field where Rusty wanted her orphanage. For the next four hours they caught grasshoppers, ran, played hide-and-seek in the trees, rested on the blanket, and ate the picnic Cook had prepared.

When Quintin ran out of steam, he lay next to his father, and Chase put his arm around him. Rusty was gathering the last of the lunch when Chase began to share.

"This day, the hot weather and stillness, reminds me of the summer I came to Christ." Rusty looked over at him, but his
eyes
were on the horizon.

"I was 16 when my mother came home and so self-centered that I couldn't even see it. I'll never forget that summer. My mother had been home only a few months and was doing well, but for as much as I'd missed her when she was gone, I didn't want to spend any time with her. Each morning she read her Bible out loud at the breakfast table, but I just wanted to get away—away from her and away from Briarly."

Chase looked over at Quintin and saw that he had fallen asleep. He continued his story for Rusty.

"My mother was so gentle and kind, but I just wanted to run from her. My father was all business and gruff, and for some reason that was easier to take. Then it happened. One Sunday morning I announced that I didn't want to go to church. I don't even know where my father was right then, probably on a business trip. My mother and I had a huge fight. I tried to walk out on her, but she followed me right to the stable. I saddled my horse and would have ridden away, but I looked over and saw that she was crying.