Gift of Gold (17 page)

Emerson was laughing so hard by the time Jonas finished that he could hardly stand. He leaned his elbows on the sink and roared until his eyes grew moist. “Jesus, Red,” he gasped, “you waited so long I thought you were planning to enter a convent, but I got to admit that when you finally picked a man for yourself, you did all right. I must have brought you up right, after all. Congratulations, kid. Not only can he use a knife, he’s got some brains. A damn rare combination in this day and age.”

Verity lifted her eyes helplessly toward the ceiling. “You’d think I’d have the sense to know when I’m outnumbered,” she mumbled as the kettle of pasta boiled over onto the stovetop.

* * *

The day went surprisingly smoothly after that. The No Bull Cafe got busy around eleven-thirty, which took Verity’s mind off the problems she was having dealing with the men in her life. She ran the kitchen with a firm, competent hand, giving orders to Emerson and Jonas, greeting her guests, organizing the cooking. She was in her element.

By the time the No Bull closed for the afternoon, she felt much better. There was nothing like taking charge of a situation to restore a woman’s self-confidence. As she totaled up the noon profits and prepared to make a trip to the bank, she told herself she could even deal with the shaky beginning to her first love affair.

“Going into town with the loot?” Jonas asked, wiping his hands on a towel as he finished the dishes.

“That’s right.”

“I’ll ride shotgun with you. I want to pick up some more beer.”

Verity tried to keep her pleasure from showing. This would be the first time she would be alone with Jonas all day. “All right, you can come as long as you don’t buy any junk food to go with the beer.”

Jonas tossed aside the towel. “Honey, you know you can’t drink beer without junk food. The two go together in a very delicate chemical process. It would be foolish to interfere. No telling what harm might be done. Let’s go.”

The day was sunny and warm, the kind of fall day that would help ensure a good harvest for the nearby wineries. The road from the lake front into the town of Sequence Springs passed through a stand of trees and then through a wide meadow. Jonas reached out and took Verity’s hand as they walked along the roadside. His fingers tightened around hers.

“Okay. Verity,” he said calmly, “let’s have it.”

She glanced up in surprise. “Have what?”

“The morning-after postmortem.”

“Oh.” She thought about it. “is a postmortem necessary?”

He raised one brow. “Not as far as I’m concerned, but I thought it was de rigueur from the female point of view.”

“You’ve had to endure a lot of postmortems?” she demanded.

“Ouch. Don’t get snappish on me. The answer to your question is no, I haven’t had to endure a lot of them. Not for quite a while. You want to know the truth? It’s been one hell of a long time since I’ve been with a woman. Contrary to popular female opinion, a man does get to a stage in his life when he realizes he can abstain for extended periods of time without committing hara-kiri. Or maybe he just gets to the point where he finds it’s easier to do without than go through the postmortems.” He paused and then said a little roughly, “I’m sorry I was clumsy with you last night”

“You weren’t clumsy,” Verity snapped. “I’ve already told you that. I doubt if you could be clumsy if you tried. Things got a bit rushed, that’s all. Everything was going beautifully until I found that earring.”

“Finding it scared you, didn’t it?” He stopped and pulled her into his arms beside the deserted road. The warm sun beat down on both of them as he caught her questioning face between his palms. “I’m sorry about that, too, Verity. The last thing I want to do is frighten you. Let’s just give ourselves some time, okay?”

“Time?”

“Isn’t that what you were asking for last night? Time to get to know each other? We’ve got lots of time, sweetheart. I made up my mind this morning to back off. You don’t have to be afraid I’m going to show up on your doorstep every night trying to talk you back into bed. I won’t rush you again.”

Verity smiled tremulously. “Dad said he saw you reading Machiavelli this morning. Is this new strategy a result of a refresher course in the sneaky uses of power and politics?”

“Are you admitting I’ve got some power over you, sneaky or otherwise?”

“Not for a minute.”

He smiled but his eyes were serious and intent. “You’re important to me, Verity. I don’t want to screw things up between us by pushing you too hard. Just give me a chance. I give you my word I’ll take it easy for a while. I want you to trust me.”

She thought about the earring that had fallen out of his pocket last night. Then she thought about all the things she had learned about men from watching her father over the years.

There were very few males in the world who would take a romantic gesture as far as Jonas had taken it when he traced her out of Mexico.

A man who followed his own whims, a man who had absorbed the spirit and philosophy of a bygone age, a man who could quote Renaissance love poetry might be one of the select few who would think it perfectly normal to follow a woman a couple of thousand miles, carrying her lost earring.

Verity touched Jonas’s wrists on either side of her face. She could feel the corded strength in them, a compelling contrast to the astonishing sensitivity of his elegant hands. “You’re important to me, too, Jonas. I don’t know how or why, but you are very important to me.”

He drew a deep breath and pulled her close for a quick, hard kiss. “Then we’ll take it from there. And we’ll take it slow. Everything’s going to be all right, little tyrant.”

Caitlin Evanger showed up for dinner that night accompanied by Tavi. They came alone. Verity wasn’t surprised, after the conversation she’d had with Laura Griswold that afternoon.

“She’s a fascinating woman, I’ll admit,” Laura had said, “but it was something of a strain trying to entertain her. Rick said he’ll take a garden variety yuppie any day before he’ll take another artist out to dinner. You and Caitlin seemed to hit it off well, though.”

“I like her,” Verity had admitted. “And I admire her tremendously. She’s a woman who’s made it on her own. She’s talented and hardworking. And, for some reason, I feel a little sorry for her.”

“I know what you mean. I think she’s more than hardworking and talented,” Laura said thoughtfully. “I think she’s driven. There’s something strange about her, Verity.”

“Maybe all true artists are driven. Maybe that’s what makes them able to produce art,” Verity had suggested. “Maybe that’s what men such as my father and Jonas lack, a sense of drive.”

“And maybe you’re luckier than you know,” Laura had said. “I think it would be very difficult to live with someone who was obsessed.”

“You think Caitlin Evanger is obsessed with her art?”

“She’s obsessed with something. I can see it in her eyes. Oops, there’s the other line. I’ve got to run. See you later, Verity.”

Verity had hung up and sat for a few minutes thinking of Caitlin Evanger’s eyes. Laura had a point. There was something unsettling about Caitlin’s compelling gaze. More ghosts. But that knowledge only made Verity feel a greater sense of compassion.

Caitlin and Tavi both ordered the fresh pea soup with mint and the vegetable pilaf. Caitlin selected a bottle of wine, and Emerson, who was helping out as a waiter, served it with a flourish. Caitlin nodded austerely to him when he finally poured but she did not seem overly impressed by the dramatics.

“Jesus,” Emerson complained as he came back to the kitchen. “Talk about the original iceberg. Brrr.”

Jonas’s mouth twisted wryly. “Better you than me. I had to put up with her last night.”

“Cut it out, both of you,” Verity ordered. “You just don’t understand her, that’s all.”

“Yeah?” Her father gave her a sour look. “Well, it’s your turn. She’s asking for you.”

Verity smiled loftily. “She probably wants to tell me how much she enjoyed the pilaf.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Jonas cautioned. “She probably wants to tell you she’s going to report you to the health authorities because she found a fly in her soup.”

“Professional restaurateurs do not appreciate that sort of low humor, Jonas.” Verity moved to stride past him into the dining room, aware that Jonas and her father were exchanging grins over her head. The male-bonding bit was getting a bit thick, she decided.

But she should have expected Jonas and her father to get along well. They were, after all, two of a kind.

“How was everything, Caitlin?” Verity asked as she came to a halt beside the table. A quick glance slowed that both women had eaten most of their meal. A reassuring sign. As usual when anyone showed obvious evidence of having enjoyed her cooking, Verity was pleased.

“It was an excellent meal, Verity. In your own way, you are very much a creative artist. I hope you realize it.”

Verity couldn’t squelch another little burst of pleasure. “Thanks, Caitlin, I’m glad you enjoyed it. How much longer will you be staying?”

“Only one more day. I had planned to stay through the weekend, but I find that’s impossible now. I wanted to see you this evening because I would like to invite you to come and visit me next Monday. You could spend the night and drive back Tuesday morning in plenty of time to open the restaurant for lunch. My home is over on the coast, about an hour and a half away from here. What do you say?”

An invitation to visit Caitlin Evanger was the last thing Verity had expected. She was so startled, she had to pause to gather her thoughts. “Caitlin, that’s very nice of you. Monday?”

“The No Bull is closed on Monday, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes, but I hadn’t planned…”

Caitlin smiled at her, a strangely pleading smile. “I’ll understand if you can’t get away. But I was hoping you might make it. I will admit I don’t have a great many friends. I count you as one of them, however, and I would like to get to know you better. Women such as us need our female friends, don’t you think?”

Verity found herself returning the smile. “You’re absolutely right, Caitlin. Women such as us need our friendships.” There was absolutely no reason on earth why she couldn’t take a day off and drive over to the coast to visit Caitlin. Besides, it would be interesting to see a real artist’s home and studio.
Why not?
Verity thought silently. Aloud, she said, “I would love to stay with you on Monday.” She pulled out a chair at the table and sat down. “You’ll have to give me your address and directions.”

“Tavi has them for you, don’t you, Tavi?”

Tavi nodded silently and reached into a small satchel she had brought with her.

Standing in the kitchen doorway, Jonas watched the small scene at Caitlin Evanger’s table. He couldn’t overhear the conversation, but when Verity pulled out a chair and sat down, Jonas made an exclamation of disgust and turned back to wipe down a counter.

“Trouble out in the dining room?” Emerson asked. He popped the top off a can of beer and leaned back against a counter.

“Probably,” Jonas said dryly. “Verity just sat down to chat with her good pal Caitlin the Ice Lady. I don’t know what Verity sees in that woman. From the look of things, Evanger is making a real effort to turn Verity into her best friend.”

“Maybe they both figure they have a lot in common,” Emerson mused. “They’re two strong-willed, intelligent, independent women who have built careers for themselves. I can see where they might have a lot to talk about.”

Jonas shot him a cold glance. “Verity is not one damn bit like that icicle of an artist. She doesn’t really have anything in common with Evanger, she just thinks she does. She’s got a bad case of hero-worship.”

“As long as Verity believes she has something in common with Evanger, she
does
have something in common with her,” Emerson pointed out reasonably. “The reality of a situation is never as important as the individual’s perception of that reality. You know that.”

“The hell with it. I’m not in the mood for a lecture on the differences between reality and perception.” Jonas tossed aside the cloth he had been using and went back to lean in the doorway. He folded his arms and broodingly watched the three women at the table. The restaurant was empty now except for Verity, Caitlin, and the quiet woman who accompanied the artist.

“What do you think they’re discussing so intently?” Emerson asked, coming up behind Jonas.

“Beats me, but I don’t like it. Verity looks too damn interested in whatever Evanger is saying.”

“Worried?”

“I just don’t like it,” Jonas said stubbornly. “Evanger’s a bad influence on Verity.”

Emerson chuckled. “Verity’s been thinking for herself for a long time. First thing I taught her was to ask critical questions. It’s the first thing they should teach kids in school, but of course they don’t. Don’t worry. My daughter isn’t easily influenced by anyone or anything.”

“You raised an interesting daughter, Emerson. She’s as stubborn and independent as a Missouri mule.”

“All the more reason for you to stop worrying about Caitlin Evanger’s influence.”

“But every little mule has its blind spit. Verity has mind of her own, but she’s also got a streak of naïveté. She’s something of an innocent in spite of all those sharp thorns she’s developed to protect herself. Verity’s blind spot might be Caitlin Evanger. I can see the problem now. Evanger’s a couple of years older than Verity; a woman who has lived up to her potential, at least in Verity’s eyes. Verity’s real big on living up to one’s potential.”

“I know.” Emerson sipped his beer. “Easy to see why Verity admires Caitlin.”

Jonas straightened. “I think it’s time I put a stop to this.”

“Good luck,” Emerson murmured behind him.

Jonas strode out into the dining room and stopped at the table. All three women looked at him as if he’d just dropped in from another planet. He looked pointedly down at Verity.

“Time to close out the till,” he said.

Verity smiled cheerfully. “I’ll take care of it later, Jonas. Go on home with Dad if you’re ready to leave.”

So much for plan
A, Jonas thought grimly.
Time to drop back to plan B.
This one required more subtlety. It was based on the principle of “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.” He noticed the piece of paper in front of Verity.