Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3)(76)

“I should’ve sent her home when she first showed up,” Susannah muttered. “I’m the one to blame,” she said wretchedly.

“We don’t need to cast blame,” Joe said. “Right now, we’ve got to concentrate our efforts on Chrissie.”

Susannah pressed her palm against her forehead, thrusting her fingers through her hair. She heard voices in the background. Joe said something she couldn’t understand.

“Suze, listen, I’ve got to go.”

“Okay, but Joe—”

“I have to get back to my patient. I’ll call you later, all right?”

“Of course.”

The phone buzzed in her ear and Susannah shut it off. When she looked up, she noticed a couple in the park. She frowned as the man pushed the woman up against a tree and began to kiss her. His hands roved her body in what she could only describe as an X-rated manner; this display was completely out of place in public.

All of a sudden she recognized the man. Well, well, well. Darned if it wasn’t Troy Nance—with another woman. Susannah strained her eyes to be sure.

This was the perfect opportunity to show her daughter that Troy wasn’t to be trusted. If Chrissie wasn’t with him, which she most certainly was not, she was probably still at the house. All Susannah had to do was get her daughter, bring her to the park and let her see with her own eyes what kind of man Troy really was. Telling her would never work, since Chrissie wouldn’t believe a word she said.

Starting the engine, Susannah barreled out of her parking spot and headed for the house, praying all the while that Chrissie was home.

Of course she wasn’t.

CHAPTER 32

Carolyn had dropped Susannah off at her mother’s place after the trip to Spokane. From there, she’d returned to the mill, where she called Kettle Falls Landscaping and left a message for Dave Langevin to get in touch. She wanted to ask him to come for dinner.

He’d been to her house that one night, just that once, and it’d been the sweetest, most romantic night of her life. She hadn’t told Susannah much about their evening together. Carolyn didn’t know how to explain that she’d never felt more cherished. Yet Dave had hardly touched her.

Not for lack of wanting on either his part or hers. The attraction between them was explosive, and she knew his guardedness was no match for the pull he felt toward her.

Carolyn still had her own misgivings about an affair. By his own admission, Dave was a drifter. He’d never said why he moved around as much as he did or the reason he’d come to this area. Intensely private, he asked nothing of her, nor did he offer anything personal about himself. Nevertheless, she was drawn to him in a way she hadn’t been drawn to any other man in years.

At the end of the workday, the whistle blew and the sound jolted Carolyn from her thoughts. Within minutes the men started out of the gates, their lunch buckets in their hands. Dave, too, would be getting off work and when he got back to the office he’d receive her message. He didn’t have a cell phone, otherwise she would’ve contacted him directly.

But even if he did get the message, there was no way of knowing whether he’d accept her invitation. She waited at the office for an extra half hour, wondering if he’d get in touch with her there. When no call came, she decided to go home.

As she drove, Carolyn felt depressed. Needing a man in her life—a particular man—was an uncomfortable feeling. Dave had said that in the end he’d hurt her, although that seemed to worry him more than it did Carolyn. She felt a sudden and unaccountable conviction that he wouldn’t show. That he’d already made his decision.

By seven she knew she was right. Barefoot and wearing red cotton capris and a sleeveless red-checkered shirt, she watered her garden, trying to focus on the sensual feel of the grass against her feet, the sun on her arms, the heavy scent of the old roses.

Two thick steaks sat on the kitchen counter, and the green salad made with lettuce from her garden and fresh tomatoes, green peppers and slivered carrots was in the refrigerator, ready for her green goddess dressing. The recipe had been her mother’s and Carolyn hadn’t prepared it in years.

Just as she was about to put everything away and make herself a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, she heard a vehicle traveling down her driveway. Walking around the house to the patio, she saw Dave’s truck.

She watched as he climbed out, noticed that he’d showered and changed clothes, wearing clean khakis and a black T-shirt. Standing beside his battered pickup, he didn’t see her at first.

“I didn’t think you were coming,” she said.

He turned to her and his smile engulfed her. “I didn’t think I was, either.”

Her heart was racing. “I’m glad you did.”

“I tried, but I couldn’t stay away.” He moved toward her then, his steps making short work of the distance. When he reached her, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to walk directly into his arms. He embraced her, holding her close.

Carolyn raised her mouth to his and brushed his lips with her own. The kiss was moist and sweet and filled with longing. Dave lifted her braid and ran his fingers down the length of it.

He kissed her again, and again. Finally, with a reluctance that equaled her own, he released her.

“I’ve got steaks ready to grill,” she told him.

“Would you like me to cook them?”