Until She Met Daniel (6 page)

Which surely meant she could handle Daniel.

With that reassurance, she put her feet on the footrest and listened to the crickets. It was a warm late-summer evening, the kind that seemed to have an especially golden feel before colder weather arrived. Of course, autumn wouldn't be nearly as spectacular in California as it was in Connecticut, which was probably the thing she missed most about her home territory—the glorious, spectacular brilliance of fall trees and bushes. Sometimes she'd almost felt drunk on the color. But there was always something she missed about every place she'd lived since leaving her childhood home behind.

Mandy leaned her head back and closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the evening. A few minutes later, she heard footsteps on the other side of the bushes separating her house from the city manager's home. She breathed quietly and hoped Daniel wouldn't realize she was sitting nearby.

“Mandy?” his voice called.

She sighed and sat up. “Yes.”

“Is it all right if I come over?”

“Of course.”

He came through a gap in the bushes. In his arms was a large, long-haired black-and-white tuxedo cat.

“Mr. Spock,” she exclaimed.

“Then he
is
yours.”

“I adopted him not long ago.”

“I found him in the kitchen. I'm not sure how he got into the house.”

Mandy winced. “Sorry. He's turned out to be a terrible scrounge. I don't mind people feeding him, but I don't want him to be a bother.”

“He's charming at it, but persistent.”

She laughed. “He could give lessons to a bulldozer. A couple of weeks ago, he dashed into my house, skinny, dirty and hungry, and basically told me he was home and wasn't leaving.”

Daniel chuckled in return, a low, gravelly sound that somehow matched the motorboat purr Mr. Spock was emitting. The sound sent a flutter through Mandy's midriff.

“I sure hope Mr. Spock enjoys traveling in a car,” she said, trying to ignore the sensation. “I move around quite a bit.”

His eyebrows shot upward. “New employment opportunities?”

“Nah, I just take off and trust things will work out. And they do. I was going to look for something in Vicksville when I got the job here in Willow's Eve.”

“Where do you plan to end up permanently?”

“Nowhere. I
like
wandering. You see terrific things that way. I never saw the Pacific Ocean until a few months ago.”

“You don't have any goals?” Daniel stared and Mandy could tell he didn't understand. Most people didn't. Even the ones who loved to travel still seemed to want a permanent home base, but this way she wasn't tied down.

Sure, it would be wonderful to find someplace that fit her well, but she wasn't sure she'd ever find it. A place might fit for a while, but it never seemed to last.

 

CHAPTER FOUR

“I
SN
'
T
 
EXPLORING
 
THE
United States a goal?” Mandy asked. “One of these days I hope to spend a summer in Alaska. It would be dope to have a garden where a single cabbage can get to hundreds of pounds.”

“Hundreds of pounds?” Daniel repeated, unsure what anyone would do with a cabbage that size.

She shrugged. “Maybe not that big, but with the growing day being nearly twenty-four hours long, they get
huge.
So that's my goal,” she said, sticking her chin out. “Along with having lots of new experiences.”

“Oh. Okay.” He didn't know what to think, except that spending a summer in Alaska growing giant cabbages didn't fit the kind of goal he'd been talking about.

His whole life had been about planning and setting goals. As a boy, he'd planned each day, with the objective of being involved in
anything
that kept him out of the house as long as possible—sports, school clubs, field trips, studying at the library, night classes.

Hell, he'd graduated from high school a year early to get away from his embattled parents.

After college, his goal had been to get to the top of city administration as quickly as possible. He liked being in charge. And he preferred being around logical, grounded people—
calm
people, who weren't too reliant on emotion when making their decisions. Of course, it turned out his ex-wife had largely operated out of motivated self-interest, but she
had
been calm and sweet most of the time.

Mandy appeared to do things purely out of emotion, and it made him uncomfortable.

He glanced around her patio. It was cozy, with cushioned outdoor furniture and pots of flowers scattered about. And while the house wasn't as grandly built as the Victorian, the two buildings had a similar appearance.

“I wonder if the same builder did both of our houses,” he speculated as he scratched the cat's neck.

“Probably. They told me this was originally a guest cottage for the Victorian.”

“So what brought you to this part of California...besides the urge to wander?”

“My Volkswagen.”

Her smile flashed, so he figured her sense of humor was in action rather than literalism.

“And why did your VW bring you to Willow's Eve?” he said, trying to play along.

“My itchy feet. I was in Arizona for a few months and decided to head farther west.”

“Maybe your VW has itchy wheels, instead of your feet.”

Mandy looked surprised at the comment, then laughed. “Maybe it's both.”

“So you didn't grow up in Arizona either?”

“Nope. That was in Connecticut, but I've lived all over for the past eight years.”

“That sounds...interesting.”

She shrugged, which drew Daniel's unwilling attention to the tight T-shirt over her breasts, reminding him he'd been celibate since he and Celia separated. And even before the end, they'd barely touched each other. After the divorce his male friends had urged him to go wild for a while with a variety of women, but even if he
had
been the type, he wouldn't have done it in case Celia decided to use his behavior to get custody of Samantha.

“You seem to like cats,” Mandy said, gesturing at Mr. Spock, who was draped over his arms.

“Actually, it's the first time I've ever held one.” He'd been surprised by his choice to pick up the animal. At first, he'd planned to simply shoo him out the back door, but there'd been something in the feline's eyes that had made him feel guilty at the thought.

“You must have the touch,” Mandy told him. “He's perfectly happy.”

Daniel glanced down at his right hand, busily rubbing behind the cat's ears. “I guess I've seen people do this.”

She grinned. “Perhaps he's exercising mind control to make you do what he wants. I've often wondered if cats can do that.”

“Yes, well...” Daniel gently disengaged Mr. Spock's claws from his sleeve and placed him on the patio flagstones. The enormous animal stretched and strolled to Mandy's chair, meowing imperiously until she grabbed an old towel from under the chair and draped it over her legs. Mr. Spock leaped onto her lap. “He seems to be overcoming his time of neglect.”

“Yeah, he's eating like a lion. Poor baby, I think someone abandoned him.” She cocked her head. “That's a mean thing to do. I doubt it was anyone in Willow's Eve, but it could have been someone traveling or from another town. I've checked the newspaper, both here and in Vicksville, and with the veterinarians in the area to see if anyone is looking for him, but it's a no-go.”

Daniel stared at the feline. Mr. Spock had begun licking his paw and rubbing his face with it, then behind his ear in a rhythmic pattern. “What's he doing?”

“You really haven't been around cats much, have you? He's giving himself a bath.”

Fascinated, Daniel watched as Mr. Spock scrubbed his nose and again behind his ears. He'd known that cats bathed themselves, had even seen it once or twice on television, but it was different watching the process in person. And the animal was using its paw like a washcloth, which he
hadn't
seen before.

Twisting into a contorted position, Mr. Spock began working on the area just under his tail.

Daniel wrinkled his nose. “I'm glad I don't have to bathe myself that way.”

“That's for sure. Listen, why don't you take a load off? I'll get you a glass of iced tea.”

He hesitated, having figured on dropping off the cat if it was hers, before leaving politely. Spending social time with fellow workers had never been a habit, but sitting alone in the Victorian for the entire evening was unappealing. Surely it wouldn't do any harm to share Mandy's company for a short while. Besides, she seemed to understand Willow's Eve; he might pick up some useful information.

“Iced tea would be terrific,” he said.

She lifted Mr. Spock off her lap, then squirmed out of the Adirondack chair and laughed self-deprecatingly. “I love these things, but they aren't built for easy liftoff.”

Daniel wished he hadn't agreed to the iced tea—knowing he'd find it hard to forget the sinuous movements Mandy had made. Reminding himself that it was just the long dry period he'd endured, he sat in the second chair. The cat immediately leaped onto the broad armrest and meowed plaintively. Daniel looked into the animal's green eyes, amazed at the sense of untamed wildness he got from them.

“Is something wrong?” Mandy asked, coming out the door and handing him a large tumbler.

“No, it's just that he's not really domesticated, is he?”

“Heck no. The line between tame and wild is paper thin in a cat.”

“What does he want? He keeps looking at me.”

Mandy laughed. “He's probably unhappy you don't have a proper lap for him to sit on.”

“So that's what the towel is for.”

“Yes, and self-protection. He has sharp claws, and wearing shorts exposes a lot of bare skin.”

As soon as Mandy sat again and laid the towel across her legs, Mr. Spock abandoned Daniel and returned to her.

“How are things over at the house?” she asked.

“Okay. I'm sort of camping out until the movers get here, although that sounds odd in such a grandiose place. Incidentally, the way the house was supplied has been very helpful, along with the groceries, of course. Where should I send a thank-you note?”

“Probably to Jane Cutman. She was the chair of the welcome committee. Everyone will be pleased we guessed right about what you'd need.”

“Great. You mentioned she lived in the yellow house on the other side of your place.”

“Yup, the one with that glorious flower garden.”

Daniel drank some of the tea, trying to release the tension from his first day on the job, but he couldn't stop recalling his discussion with the mayor. It had been the proverbial “other shoe dropping.”

“You seem to like Willow's Eve,” he said, wondering if she knew anything about the impending water and sewer issue.

“It's a great place.”

“I've never lived in a small town, so I don't know what's typical. Especially in such a rural area.”

“Me, either.” Her words were distorted by a sudden yawn. “Sorry, don't know where that came from.”

“Lack of sleep? You couldn't have gotten much rest last night after cleaning my office.”

“That's funny. I'd almost forgotten.”

At first Daniel wondered if she was being sarcastic, but Mandy's face showed no sign of it. Instead she was busily petting the long-haired feline on her lap, making funny little sounds to Mr. Spock.

After draining his glass, he stood. “I should probably go,” he said. “Thanks for the tea.”

“Thanks for bringing Mr. Spock home. Sorry he barged into your kitchen. I'll try to keep him inside. I don't want him to be a nuisance.”

“Don't worry. He's welcome.”

Strangely, Daniel realized he meant it. The cat had brought a measure of warmth to the Victorian, making him wonder if he should consider getting a pet. Samantha would probably enjoy it. He'd talk with Joyce and see what she thought.

* * *

C
HRIS
R
USSELL
 
PARKED
 
in his garage and stretched. It was too bad he had only two weeks for vacation. Since Susan had taken three off from the mill, they might have taken a longer trip, except that she had wanted to be home for the city council meeting. Nevertheless, it was good to be home again, weird as it seemed with Evan away at college.

As Chris slid out of the car, he glanced at his bicycle, deciding to ride it to work tomorrow. To date, he'd kept his resolution to ride the bike to the forestry station a minimum of two days a week—it was much better for the environment. Besides, the exercise was healthy and he had an official vehicle for any fieldwork.

He came into the house and found his wife in the kitchen. He pulled her into a hot, sexy kiss. It was great that after twenty years of marriage they were still this good together. After a couple of minutes, he eased his grip and stepped back to admire the flush on her face. He grinned. “Hi, honey. Did you have a good day?”

“Not bad. I saw Mandy and met the new city manager...and had coffee with Dad at Elena's.”

His nerves tightened. Thankfully, Susan didn't mention her father very often. Big Joe Jensen was, in Chris's opinion, a boil on the butt of creation, even if the description was a bit clichéd.

“Oh,” he said shortly.

“Yeah, he's still upset we didn't go to Hawaii.”

“How is it his damn business?”

“He's my father, Chris.”

“Yeah, well...let's just forget it.”

An odd expression crossed Susan's face, but then she smiled. “Right. How was work?”

“Great. What's for dinner?”

“Quesadillas and salad.”

“Sounds perfect. I'll go get washed up.”

* * *

S
USAN
 
CHECKED
 
THE
 
food in the oven and pulled the salad from the refrigerator. She'd considered making pork or chicken tacos for herself. It wasn't that she objected to Chris being a vegetarian, but she enjoyed having meat part of the time...until he got that look on his face, as if he'd smelled something rotten. Under the circumstances, it was easier to fix the same thing for both of them.

She set out extra fillings for the quesadillas on the counter. The tortillas were particularly delicious when packed with chopped cabbage, tomatoes, avocado, salsa and other things. They were good with meat, too, but... She pushed the thought away. She'd known Chris was a vegetarian when they had married, and at least he wasn't vegan. Proper vegan cooking was complicated, having to mix certain foods to ensure you ate complete proteins. Luckily, Chris was a cheese fanatic, and hadn't been able to give up dairy products.

He also hadn't given up an occasional fish dinner, though
that
was a problem for her since she was allergic to seafood.

By the time Chris had returned to the kitchen, everything was ready. He'd shaved, and the base of her abdomen tightened. Shaving usually meant he hoped for a hot night in bed, so maybe their trip had done more than she'd thought. Or it could be the knowledge that, as much as they missed Evan, being alone in the house also had a few advantages.

He grinned knowingly. “How about an early night?”

“Sounds good to me.”

They served their quesadillas and added the salad on the side before taking their plates to the kitchen table. Their view looked out to a wooded area beyond the house, which was much better than the four walls of the dining room they rarely used. But as soon as they sat down, Evan's absence hit her, and she had a feeling Chris felt it, as well.

“We could move the extra chair into the other room,” she suggested. “I hate seeing it empty. But Evan might feel strange if he came home for a visit and saw it wasn't there.”

“True, though I don't think he'll be home until Thanksgiving.”

Thanksgiving was over two months away. More than ever, Susan regretted giving in to Chris's insistence they have only one child. His arguments had made sense at the time, all about reducing population pressure and taking care of the environment, but it would be nice to still have kids in the house.

“We'll need to plan something extra special for the holiday,” she said.

“Yeah, thank God this is our year to stay at home,” Chris muttered vehemently. “Dinner with your parents is like stepping into the eighteen hundreds.”

The muscles between Susan's shoulder blades twinged. She and Chris had worked out a compromise about Thanksgiving. Since he'd grown up in foster homes, he had no family to visit, and he disliked going to her parents' home. So they alternated, going only every other year.