He's Got Her Goat (8 page)

He looked to the apple clock. “It’s two o’clock.”

She gave a wan smile. “That’s an hour earlier than I finished last night, and we made a double batch.”

The mound of new soap on the table was impressive. He couldn’t even imagine doing twice that amount. “You mixed up 576 new bars tonight? You’re an ambitious woman.”

“I’m not feeling very ambitious right now.” She grabbed her purse from the back of her chair. “We better go this minute if you want me to take you. I can finish this later.”

He got up. “You rest. I’ll do it.” He started putting the soap cakes in the box, suddenly realizing that he’d been sitting this whole time, while she’d been on her feet mixing. Same with the milking. She must be exhausted. To think he ever considered her irresponsible or a little lax embarrassed him. She was the first person he’d met who worked harder than he did, except for maybe his boss.

Again Paige touched him, laying her palm on his forearm. Even that rough skin could sense the softness of hers. “There is always more work to be done. I promise it will wait quite happily until I’m ready to do it.”

He suddenly knew the answer. “Let me stay the night. I’ll sleep on your couch. Then you won’t need to waste those two hours of driving. Neither one of us can afford it if we want to be fresh for tomorrow.”

She glanced at the order forms smothering the sofa and shook her head. “I’ve got a perfectly good bed in the other room. You can sleep there.”

“Won’t Uncle Bill mind?” Sterling asked. “When is he due to return?”

Her eyes closed, and he wondered for a second if she had fallen asleep in her chair. When she did answer, her voice was thin. “I won’t see him for a long time.”

They both headed to the hall. At the juncture where the hall split, she paused. “Today started out pretty awful. Thank you for making it end on a good note.”

He wanted to tell her so many things. How he didn’t want to take this assignment at all, but it had become the best thing he’d done for as long as he could remember. How it made him reconsider the things he thought were dead in his life. Instead, he reached out and took her in his arms. His hands resting against the back of her denim coveralls, the smell of fresh soap, the way her head fit right against the turn of his neck felt like he could stay there forever. He closed his eyes, bathed in the warmth of her so close, hoping she wouldn’t pull away. She didn’t. It would be so easy to be this person, but Sterling knew it wasn’t who he was anymore.

He released her as quickly as he came to himself. “We best be off to bed. It’ll be an early morning.”

LATER, PAIGE LAY IN BED.
Tears slid down her temples, lodging in her ears. Uncle Bill was gone, and she had let a stranger sleep in his bed. It was a foolish thing to do, she knew it, but he’d been such a help. Like some heavenly gift sent when she was at the end of her rope. Maybe Uncle Bill somehow directed him here, if that were possible.

Or maybe she was doing the same thing she’d done with Blanche. She closed her eyes and could feel the area around her mouth where her neighbor’s hand had clamped over it. She rubbed her mouth hard with the back of her hand, trying to wipe away the memory. Was Blanche only an identity thief or something more?

She was still out there, and there was nothing to stop her from coming back and invading her home or worse. No matter how illogical it was, for how much she now knew Blanche was someone she couldn’t trust, she knew Sterling was someone she could. She felt safe with him. That became clear the moment she noticed his cowboy boots. Sturdy, unadorned and broken in with good, hard work. Boots like that didn’t lie.

Chapter Nine

P
AIGE’S NOSE TWITCHED
. She sniffed and opened one eye. It was bright outside. Pushing herself up to a sitting position, she rubbed her eyes, blinked and sniffed again. Bacon. Eggs. Toast. How?

She got up, wearing her clothes from yesterday, and padded into the kitchen. Sterling had his back to her at the stove. The tins from last night had been cleaned and put away. The kitchen sparkled. To her right, the invoices on the couch had been straightened in neat piles, and the dinette was cleared off and set like a real eating place with a table cloth, plates and silverware.

“Wow!” she said.

He rotated to face the now cleared center counter. The boxes were stacked by the front door. He threw the spatula in the sink. “I was going to come and wake you in a minute. Hungry?”

Paige was about to say, “Heck, yeah” when she looked at the clock and said just plain “Heck!” Running to the front door, she took her sweater from the hook, but Sterling was headed to the table. “Um, it’s seven. We’ve got to milk the goats.”

He set a skillet with the most beautiful omelet she’d ever seen in it, pulled out her chair and waited for her to sit. “Already done. I did the milking an hour ago.”

Dumbfounded, she realized he had showered and shaved, too. His light hair was brushed back. His jawline sharp and clean. He wore Uncle Bill’s shirt from last night and his jeans but was barefoot. She sat, amazed at the amount of work he’d accomplished. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Enough.” He served her half of the golden eggs, put the other half on his plate and placed the skillet on a hot pad, right next to a mason jar filled with fresh daffodils.

She smiled when she saw them. “Those are pretty.”

“Oh,” he said after taking his first bite. “I wouldn’t have found them if you hadn’t had an escapee this morning. I saw her high-tailing it into the forest as I stepped out the door.”

Paige nodded as she chewed. “Was she light grey and very pregnant?”

“Spot on.” He leaned forward. “I’ve been feeling a little like the king in the fairytale Rumpelstiltskin, trying to guess the goats’ names. For her, I was thinking Dust Cloud or Tornado.”

“Not even close.” She sat back, impressed.

“What about . . .” He put his hand to his chin and stared at Paige, as though his gaze could extract the truth from her brain. “Daffodil? She sure loves to eat them.”

Her mouth fell open. “Close. It’s Petunia and—”

“Oh, we are late.” He shot to his feet. “Can you get ready in ten minutes?”

“Of course.” She laughed, thinking how many times she’d gotten ready in a third of that time. She headed to the bathroom and heard him whistle behind her.

“You are one amazing lady.” He carried the plates to the sink and turned on the water. “It used to take my sister an hour to shower and get made up.”

Oh great.
She had only planned on brushing her teeth and changing her shirt since she’d slept in it. Now he expected her to shower and put on makeup, too? She supposed she could look on it as a challenge. Determined to show him, she rushed to the bathroom and slammed the door.

STERLING WASHED THE LAST OF THE DISHES
and loaded the boxes ready to be shipped in the back of the Honda along with the new soap for the day’s inventory. The apple clock read seven-twenty-tw0, and he was getting nervous. Then Paige emerged from the hall.

The first thing he noticed was her fitted jeans. He’d only seen her in baggy overalls. Her coral jacket would be appropriate in any business environment, and she wore heels. Dressed like that she would fit in anywhere. “You’re beautiful.”

She ducked her head, grabbed the keys and hurried out the door. He wondered if he’d offended her.

The ride was quiet. His palms were sweating, and he felt like he was in high school all over again, interested in a girl but unsure she felt the same way. Shifting in his seat, he blamed his state of mind on only two hours of sleep. He turned to his professional training to get his bearings. His real problem was that he lacked established goals. Normally, every decision he made was based on a solid plan. The bigger picture dictated that by noon tomorrow he’d go back to his own career and probably never see Paige Lindon again. The thought didn’t make him happy, but then neither did fifteen hour workdays or half of the little jobs he was asked to do. Still, they were necessary if he was to achieve what he wanted. He had to keep his eye on the prize. When that was done, he could slow down. Who knows, if Paige was still available, they might even date then.

Feeling more himself, Sterling focused on the original request that had brought him here, to find out more about the business. Time to get to work. “So,” he asked Paige, “are most of these mail orders to individuals?”

She seemed startled by the question. “No, not really. I targeted the Northwest high end spas and specialty boutiques. Building on good references, I’ve got enough retailers to keep me busy. My only individual sales are at the farmers’ market.”

“Northwest . . . does that include Northern California?”

She shook her head. “I’m only in Washington, Oregon and Idaho.”

“So how much do these weekends increase your bottom line?”

She peeked over her shoulder before taking a left into the parking lot. “If you look at opportunity costs, I’m losing money. I already told you that’s not why I do it.”

“You lose money to spend a weekend stressed out, on your feet and accosted by idiots?” His question sounded sharper than he intended. Another result of his sleep deprivation, he supposed.

She turned off the ignition and faced him. “These are my friends. What I do is far more a passion than a business, anyway. Many of these customers have been with me from the beginning. They’re the reason I’m where I am today.”

“And where are you today?” He tried to sound reasonable though he doubted her answer would be.

“If you only knew.” She lowered her head. “I still have thousands of dollars I owe in school loans, an equity loan I used to buy equipment, and let’s not even talk about taxes next month. But I’m working as hard as I can. I don’t know what else I can do.”

“Get a real job.” He knew he was being harsh, but he had to call it the way he saw it. “For how much time and effort you are committing, you could excel in any field you chose. Instead, you do all this work for a crappy car and a house that’s as old as my grandmother. I don’t get it.”

“You don’t have to.” She opened her car door and slammed it behind her.

He climbed out of his seat and went to the back of the car to lift the heavy box of soap, but she already had it and was bustling across the parking lot. He locked up and took his time walking to the canopy. He wanted to punch something. Seeing her killing herself, working so hard for so little, wasn’t even logical. How could he endure watching her crash and burn another day when she should be so much more?

PAIGE DROPPED THE BIG BOX OF SOAP
on the display counter and kicked the cedar chair. It didn’t budge, but it nearly broke her foot. She'd forgotten she was wearing heels and not sneakers. Where did Sterling get off anyway? When he complimented her after getting ready for the day, she was sincerely flattered. No one had talked to her like that but Joe, and he didn’t count. Due to complete brain fog, she had clammed up. It was the first time she could see herself actually liking someone that liked her back, and it terrified her. At least until after their most recent conversation in the car. Where did he get off judging her? She was doing fine, and she could keep this booth if she wanted it.

To be honest with herself, she didn’t only want to do this, she needed to. Otherwise, she’d never see anyone. She couldn’t imagine spending day in and day out, milking and mailing endlessly. She couldn’t spend her life completely alone.

A bull horn sounded, kicking her into action. Like the starting line of a race, the barrier at the north entrance was removed, and shoppers sprinted forward. For many it was a form of entertainment, and they had no intention of spending more than a few dollars, but for others it was a serious way of life, collecting treasures that couldn’t be had anywhere else. Four young woman bustled up to Paige all at the same time, each holding a pale green, torn paper with Sterling’s writing on it. Their receipts.

She delivered their promised product while collecting the other half of their money and was a little surprised that Sterling hadn’t arrived yet. If he didn’t work, she wasn’t going to pay him. Then she recalled all he’d done the night before and knew she’d pay him no matter what. In truth, she was more worried than mad. Did he decide to leave? She supposed he had every right to.

A familiar woman neared, and Paige broke into an uncomfortable grin. “Julie!” As Joe’s heiress approached, Paige could feel her cheeks flaming. Although she had nothing to feel guilty about, the new cedar booth said it all.