Riding the Pause (10 page)

“Thanks so much for letting me use your place to meet Ian,” said Rachel, fastening the clasp on her bracelet as she walked into the family room of the big old colonial Jude and Autumn had bought and were fixing up.

“Thanks for doing my dishes,” said Autumn from where she sat, nursing the baby on the sofa. “Jude tries to help with everything but with the house and his practice, he’s overwhelmed. Because some teeny tiny person is a lot of work.”

She cooed to the baby, and Rachel blinked hard, so incredibly grateful that things had turned out okay for her sister-in-law and niece. Aside from being a little smaller than expected, Marion Rose was perfect, and with the way her parents doted on her, Rachel had no doubt she’d catch up quickly.

“How do I look?” she asked, smoothing the knit jersey dress over her hips. They’d never settled on where they were going so she wasn’t sure what to wear. Paired with her knee high calfskin boots, the forest green dress seemed to walk the line between dressy and casual.

“Oh, honey, you look beautiful,” said Autumn, glancing up from the baby in her arms. “He won’t stand a chance.”

“That’s the idea,” she said, laughing.

“I still can’t fit into any of my clothes.”

“You just had a baby.” Their style was completely different. Rachel’s was sleek and sophisticated and Autumn’s was more 1950s pin-up girl. But Rachel and her sisters admired her sister-in-law’s taste in clothing.

“I know. I’m not being a freak about it. Honestly, I’m not. I’m just looking forward to getting my body back. So,” she said, shifting the baby to her shoulder. “Are you serious about this guy?”

“No,” said Rachel and then she thought about Ian’s hands and the furniture he built. His stillness and the way he helped pick up the slack. “I don’t know. Maybe. We’re so different. I don’t supposed there’s any way to keep my brother out of the house until after Ian and I leave, is there?”

Autumn patted the baby’s back and laughed. “Not unless he stays at the office wrecking my filing system and as much as I love you, I’m not going to wish for that. Don’t worry. He’s so in love with his daughter; as long as the baby’s in the room, he’ll leave you and Ian alone.”

“He’s so in love with you, too,” said Rachel. “When you were in the hospital, the doctor said he wouldn’t leave your side.”

“I know. I’m very lucky.” Autumn put the baby to her other breast, pausing for a moment until she was settled and nursing. “But Rachel I didn’t feel that way when I first came home. Nothing the happened at C and M was my fault, but I still felt like a failure when I lost my job and had to move back into Gran’s house. I really do understand how you feel.”

Rachel had been so caught up in seeing Autumn as a new mother that she forgot her sister-in-law had a successful career as an account executive before the FTC busted the firm she worked for. Rachel’s family had been supportive about her losing her job and none of her siblings had ribbed her about it, but Autumn was probably the only one who understood what Rachel was going through. She couldn’t believe it hadn’t occurred to her earlier.

“Do you miss it? The job and office?”

Autumn glanced at her nursing daughter and smiled before meeting Rachel’s gaze.

“No, I loved what I used to do, but for me a lot of it was about proving myself. When I met your brother I didn’t need to do that anymore. I chose a different path.” She stroked a finger over the baby’s soft sweet cheek. “But that doesn’t mean my path is right for you. I know your brother loves having you at home. I love it, too, but you have to decide what’s right for you. You’re the only one who knows and no one has the right to make you feel guilty for your choice. I’ll support you no matter what.”

“My brother is a lucky man. Thank you,” said Rachel. “For everything.”

“It’s my pleasure,” she said, lifting her sleeping daughter to her shoulder.

“Can I hold her?”

“Please.” Autumn handed the baby to Rachel, stretching her shoulders and readjusting her top. “It’s amazing how tired your shoulders get holding such a tiny little thing.”

“Definitely amazing,” said Rachel looking down on the sweet sleeping face of Marion Rose.

Ian pulled his truck in front of the elegant two story colonial in the older section of town. The stately home was as different from his isolated cabin in the woods as he was from the elegant Rachel Southerland. He turned off the truck’s engine and sat for a moment wondering if he was about to make a mistake. With the beautifully manicured lawns and the sprawling ancient magnolias it almost looked like a street pulled out of time. This was a place of well-tended weed less gardens not native plants and trails through the woods.

Glancing up and down the street, he couldn’t see a thing out of place. He wouldn’t be surprised if someone reported his beat up pick-up truck if he left it parked in front of Doctor Southerland’s house for too long. It would make him the worst kind of chicken, but maybe he and Rachel were better off letting go of this thing between them before either of them got in too deep. He wasn’t looking to get married again and she hadn’t done anything to give him the impression that she was either, but maybe it would be better not to push their luck.

He didn’t want to let go and he’d never been a chicken. It might not make sense or be the smartest thing he’d ever done, but he wanted to spend time with Rachel and give them a chance to figure out what they were like together. They were grownups; they could handle the consequences.

He walked up the path to the front porch. The Southerlands must not have been in the house for long. Either that or they had an aversion to curtains. The sidelights on the front door showed a glimpse of a gracious entryway with a curved staircase the furniture builder in him wanted to get a better look at, but it was the view through the window to the family room that stole his breath and had his heart hammering in his chest.

Rachel sat on a Duncan Phyfe sofa, holding a tiny bundle of blankets on her lap. Her hair was smoothed back in a twist, and she wore a dark green dress that looked so soft his fingers flexed with the need to touch her. He knew the color would bring out the green flecks in her hazel eyes but he couldn’t see them because her whole attention was focused on the bundle in front of her. As he watched, she shifted, and he saw a tiny nose and the sweet curve of a cheek. Rachel said something to the baby in her arms, and he remembered the lilt in her voice when she’d talked to his animals. Something tightened in his chest.

Mine.
It made no sense and was probably a horrible idea. His head was telling him not to make the same mistake twice but his gut said
mine
.

A light flicked on somewhere else in the house, and he forced his attention away from the scene in the family room before someone thought he was a peeping Tom and busted him. He knocked on the door, and it was answered by a pretty petite woman with dark haired pulled back in a ponytail. She had the bluest eyes, striking even though they were shadowed with fatigue.

“You must be Ian. I’m Autumn,” she said with a smile that shone through her exhaustion. “Come in. Rachel and the baby are in the other room.”

His steps faltered, and he caught himself before he stumbled. It was one thing to watch Rachel and the baby through the safety of the window. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to be in the same room with them and hold onto his confirmed bachelor card.

He followed Autumn because he wasn’t sure how to do anything else without seeming rude, but he stopped in the doorway. Seeing Rachel holding the baby up close was making it hard for him to breathe.

“We should go,” he said at the same time she said, “Come meet her.”

Rachel laughed, and Ian shifted uncomfortably.

“Don’t tell me the big strong mountain man is afraid of a baby,” she teased.

“Not afraid exactly,” he said.

Before she could do something crazy like try to get him to hold it, Jude came through the other door and made a beeline to his daughter.

“Give me,” he said, holding his hands out, and still laughing, Rachel handed her brother his baby.

“Pushover,” she said pressing a kiss to Jude’s cheek.

“Damn skippy,” said Jude, nuzzling his daughter’s head.

Autumn stood beside Ian in the doorway watching her husband and daughter with such love, it was an almost tangible thing.

“Ready?” asked Rachel, startling Ian.

He’d been so caught up in watching the new family he hadn’t seen Rachel until she was practically on top of him. Standing in front of him looking soft and pretty, her hazel eyes lit with love for the family around her, he couldn’t see anything but her. Ignoring everyone around them, he reached out, pulling her to him. Bending, he brushed a kiss over her lips, losing himself in the scent and feel of her. Her sweet taste.

The sound of a throat clearing brought him back to himself. He broke the kiss, taking a step back and looking into the discerning eyes of Rachel’s brother.

“It’s nice to see you again, Ian,” he said, sounding like he wasn’t sure that it was nice at all.

“Knock it off, big brother. Thank you for everything,” she said, leaning in to kiss Autumn’s cheek. Ian saw something pass wordlessly between the women, but his own brain was too addled by the myriad emotional currents running through the room to make sense of it.

“Come on, mountain man,” Rachel said, linking her arm through his and leading him out the door.

He’d made reservations for them at a new farm-to-table restaurant his friend with the organic farm recommended. It wasn’t a white table cloth kind of place, but it had gotten good reviews. Maybe he should have picked something fancier. He pulled into the parking lot and turned off the truck, smiling as Rachel’s eyes lit with pleasure when she saw where they were going.

“I’ve heard of this place,” she said. “Bailey knows the chef. She says the food is fabulous.”

“Bailey’s your sister, right? The one with the restaurant at Mountain Lake?” he said, feeling pretty good about his restaurant choice. Maybe they weren’t so different after all, and he should stop assuming things.

She nodded, walking through the door he held open for her. He kept his hand on the small of her back, loving the way he could feel the heat from her body through the soft fabric of her dress. He hated to let go of her when the hostess led them to their table, but there wasn’t a way not to without looking crazy.

“This is great,” she said, looking around the small dining room. The walls were clad with reclaimed barn boards and decorated with old advertisements for farming products and victory garden posters. It could easily have crossed the line to kitschy but instead it felt warm and comfortable.

Because they used only locally sourced seasonal ingredients, they didn’t have a fixed menu. The server came to tell them the night’s specials, and Rachel asked a bunch of questions about how things were prepared and what went into the dishes. But when it was time to order, she made her choice without making any special requests for sauce on the side or other specifics the way he’d assumed she would.

“What?” she asked when the server was gone and she caught him watching her.

“Nothing.” He shook his head to clear it but he already knew her well enough to tell by her expression that she had no intention of letting it go.

“It has to be something. You were looking at me like I had something written on my face you were trying to read.”

He used her comment as an excuse to reach across the table and run the backs of his fingers over her smooth cheek. “It’s not that,” he said, not sure how to tell her what he’d been thinking without offending her.

“Then?” She arched an eyebrow at him as he blew out a breath, resigned to take his chances and tell her the truth.

“You asked a lot of questions, and we’ve established you like to have control over things.” He braced himself but she simply smiled back at him, obviously still comfortable with his assessment. “I assumed when you ordered, you would try to tell the chef what to do. Not too much oil in the pan, sauce on the side, that kind of stuff.”

Her smile turned into a full, clear laugh and he felt his forehead crease, pretty sure he was never going to get a handle on the woman sitting across from him.

“Bailey would have my skin if I did that,” she said, stifling her giggles. “And she’d be right. I’m trusting the chef to do the best she can with ingredients and in a place like this at least, assuming she knows a lot more about how to do that than I do. You should know all about that.”

Her comment turned the tables on him and he sat back waiting for her to explain what she meant.

“You’re a craftsman. An artist really. I could tell you exactly what I wanted in a piece of furniture, but if I did that you couldn’t use your considerable talent to make something better than I imagined. I may be a control freak, but I’m not stupid enough to think I know everything.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid at all.” He reached across the table for her hand, needing to convince her that wasn’t what he meant, but before their fingers touched the server was back with plates holding mounds of the tiniest lettuce leaves he’d ever seen – micro greens he thought she’d called them – topped with soft boiled quail eggs and strips of crusty bread for dipping.