My Sunshine (30 page)

“Thank you.”

He met her gaze. “Help me turn this place into a home.”

Her expression still incredulous, she shook her head.

“Please?”

“I wouldn't know where to start. This is your house. It should reflect who you are.”

“You know me pretty well.” He gestured at the emptiness around them. “Now that the tree is up, it looks so bare in here.” He grinned slowly. “It'd be fun. Say yes.”

She chafed her arms and turned in a slow half circle. “How much do you want to spend?”

“Whatever it costs. I make damned good money, and as you can see, I don't spend much of it. Help me blow a few grand.”

She laughed and executed another turn to survey the room. “Leather,” she said softly. “You want a rustic ranch feeling in this house. You like the outdoors. An-imals are a big part of your life. You won't feel at home if the rooms are fussy.”

Isaiah totally agreed. He just hoped that she pleased her own taste as well as his, because
someday, if he had his way, the home she created would be for both of them.

 

The following week Laura was scheduled to work nights again, starting Monday. Isaiah volunteered to watch the puppies so she wouldn't have to take them with her to the clinic, but she refused the offer. He worked much longer hours than she did and needed eight hours of uninterrupted rest, whereas she could sleep in if need be. She bought a large wicker basket in which to carry the puppies back and forth, and once at work she divided her time between her regular duties and puppy feedings. That made her shift not only more stressful but also longer. With the puppies to care for, she found it impossible to complete all her usual duties in the same amount of time.

When she got back to the house, usually at about four in the morning, Isaiah was asleep. Sometimes Hapless bounded from the bedroom to greet her, but otherwise Laura spent thirty minutes alone while she tried to wind down enough to sleep. When she got up around noon, Isaiah had long since left for work, and she didn't see him until he came home in the afternoon, some days earlier than others so they could shop together for furniture.

With the shopping trips to complicate the evening hours, Laura made good use of Isaiah's slow cooker, preparing their dinners ahead and leaving them to simmer until they got home. Isaiah didn't seem to mind. He praised her beef roast and vegetables and had three helpings of the chicken and dumplings she made.

The hectic pace should have made it easy for Laura to keep her head out of the clouds, but just the reverse occurred. When furniture began to arrive, she found herself feeling proprietary toward the rooms as they began to take shape.
Foolish Laura, spinning impossible dreams.
This wasn't her home, and it never would be, just as Isaiah wasn't her man and never would be. But she couldn't help but wish.

As she tried to choose the perfect wall to hang a mountain scene by a local artist, she wished. As she prepared meals to go in the slow cooker, she wished. When she greeted Isaiah as he came in at night, she wished.

It was partly his fault, she decided. He had a certain way of smiling at her that made her feel like the most special person in his world, and sometimes she could have sworn she saw yearning in his eyes when he looked at her. And just how, exactly, was she to keep her feelings in check when he went out of his way to be so thoughtful? After dinner of an evening, he took to reading aloud to her until it was time for her to leave for work. Even after a beautiful leather sofa and easy chairs arrived for the living room, they sat by the fire on the beanbags.

It was cozy and a little too intimate for Laura's peace of mind, with the fire crackling behind them and the Christmas-tree lights pulsing warm color over the room. Isaiah's deep, silky voice curled around her, working on her senses like an intoxicant. Sometimes she forgot to listen to his words
and lost herself in imagining how it might be if he suddenly turned and kissed her.

She was falling in love with him. Correction: She'd been in love with him for weeks. Laura lectured herself constantly never to let him know. He was a wonderful boss and an even better friend. If not for him, the puppies, each of which she had come to love, would have been put to sleep. She absolutely couldn't abuse his kindness by making him feel guilty for not returning her affection.

No, she told herself firmly. Friendship was a lovely thing, and she had to be happy with that. Christmas was coming. She had always loved the season and tried to stay focused on that and enjoy every moment. During the afternoons, when she wasn't greeting deliverymen and trying to decide where to place furniture, she often baked. She went to her apartment for Christmas tins and filled them with goodies to go under the tree, cookies and candies, fruitcakes and bars. Isaiah was still too thin. She enjoyed seeing him devour the treats. She discovered that he loved chocolate and made him a batch of creamy fudge. Other afternoons she ran into town between puppy feedings to shop for the house, buying vases, throw pillows, and colorful rugs to brighten the hardwood floors.

By Thursday, the sixteenth of December, Isaiah's house had begun to look like a home. Laura was giving a silk flower arrangement some finishing touches when the phone rang. She gave the flowers a last pat and grabbed the portable from the kitchen counter.

“Hello?”

“Hello, dear heart. This is Mary, Isaiah's mom.”

Laura had been in touch with her grandmother since coming to stay at Isaiah's, but she hadn't spoken with Mary. “Mary,” she said with genuine gladness. “How nice to hear your voice.”

“How are the puppies?”

“Growing,” Laura said with a laugh. “I only have to feed them every three hours now. That makes it easier.”

“Ah, good.” Mary sighed. “I'm just wondering, dear. Has Isaiah mentioned his birthday to you?”

Laura perched on a bar stool to admire the flower arrangement on the kitchen table from across the room.
Just the right touch,
she decided. “No,” she replied distractedly, “he hasn't said a word. When is his birthday?”

“Today.”

Laura jerked erect on the stool. “What?”

Mary laughed. “You heard me. I called Tucker this morning and surprised him with best wishes, but Isaiah was out in the field, so I haven't talked to him yet. I'm afraid they both forgot.”

Laura couldn't imagine forgetting her own birthday. “You're kidding.”

“Don't I wish. Isaiah has always been my absentminded one, thinking deep thoughts and scarcely aware of what's happening around him. I might expect him to forget. But Tucker?” She sighed again. “Ah, well, I'm sure it's because they're both so busy.”

Laura had brought only one cookbook from her apartment. Her grandmother had gone through the entire thing, drawing little sketches off to the side
of all the recipes. A half-filled cup represented a half cup, etc. Laura used that cookbook a lot because she wasn't as likely to misread an ingredient amount with the sketches to clarify the measurements. Only she couldn't remember if the collection included a cake recipe. As a general rule, cakes weren't her favorite things to bake because they went stale quickly and didn't freeze as nicely as other goodies. But she absolutely had to make one for Isaiah's birthday.

“Anyway,” Mary was saying, “how about a surprise party over here tonight? Dinner, followed by cake and ice cream. Just family—and you, too, of course. Do you think you can maneuver my son into coming over without spilling the beans?”

Laura grinned. “Yeah, I think I can do that. Do you mind if I bring the puppies?”

 

When Laura informed Isaiah that they were going to his parents' house for dinner that night, he almost groaned. She had been staying at his place for almost a week, and he hadn't made a single move on her. Tonight he'd meant to rectify that. Surely she'd been there long enough now to know that he wasn't merely trying to take advantage of a convenient situation. He wanted to tell her how he felt about her, possibly even ask her to marry him, and let Mother Nature take it from there.

“I'm beat,” he said when she told him about having dinner at his parents' house. “Can we make it for another night?”

“No. Sorry. Your mom and I are going to make Christmas cookies.”

Isaiah thought of all the goodies under the tree and in his freezer. As it was, he'd weigh three hundred pounds if he ate them all. But when he looked into Laura's pleading hazel eyes, he found it difficult to deny her anything. He sighed. Maybe, he decided, tonight wasn't the best time to tell her he loved her, anyway. She had to work the late shift. If he waited until Saturday night they'd have the entire evening and night together.

“Okay,” he agreed reluctantly. “Just let me grab a shower.”

“Hurry. I don't want to be late.”

 

Unbeknownst to Isaiah, he carried his birthday gift from Laura into his parents' house. When he collected the cardboard box from the backseat of the Hummer, he mistakenly thought it contained cookie-decorating paraphernalia. He about had a heart attack when he stepped into his folks' darkened living room. All the lights suddenly came on, and his entire family burst from the kitchen, yelling, “Surprise!”

Isaiah could only gape at them. Surprise? Then it dawned on him. It was the sixteenth of December, his and Tucker's birthday. He couldn't believe they had forgotten. His twin brother, who'd arrived ahead of him, grinned sheepishly and shrugged. “I had a lot on my mind. What can I say?”

Jake clapped Isaiah on the shoulder. “Happy birthday, little brother. You've been a pain in my ass for thirty-four years now.”

Molly, Jake's wife, went up on her tiptoes to give
Isaiah a hug. “Idiot,” she whispered. “I've never heard of senility setting in at so young an age.”

That was only the beginning. Except for Tucker, everyone in Isaiah's family felt obligated to razz him about forgetting his birthday. Isaiah took it good-naturedly. Like Tucker, he'd had his mind on other matters, namely a pretty little blonde with big hazel eyes who made him go brain-dead every time he looked at her.

Dinner was wonderful. His mom had prepared two main courses, seafood fettuccini for Tucker, and prime rib for Isaiah.

“I had to fix each of you your favorites!” she explained.

“You're a marvel, Mom,” Isaiah said. Tucker bested him with, “You're the most wonderful mother in the world.” When Mary turned away, Tucker gave Isaiah a smug grin and said in a low voice, “Now who's the number one twin?”

“Yeah, well,” Isaiah popped back, “you got the charm and I got the brains.”

After cake and ice cream were served, the puppies had to be fed, and everyone in the family participated. Sly and Garrett got into a fight over who got to feed the thirteenth pup. Laura settled the dispute by letting them each take turns until the bottle ran dry. Watching her with the children, Isaiah knew beyond a doubt that she would be a fabulous mother. All that remained was for him to convince her to have his babies.

When the puppies had all been returned to the wicker basket, Isaiah and Tucker sat on the living room floor, surrounded by loved ones as they
opened their gifts. Isaiah got an appointment book from his mother, a new Stetson from his dad, a collection of shirts and ties from his brothers, and two twelve-count packages of gray wool boot socks from his sister.

“So your socks will always match,” Bethany said with an impish grin.

Nowadays Laura was doing Isaiah's laundry, and his socks were all folded neatly into pairs. He glanced over at the lady in question before opening the gift that she'd gotten for him. It was in a heavy, gaily wrapped box about eight inches square. The attached card was from Hallmark, a beautiful outdoor scene on the front with a horse and rider in the distance. Inside she had painstakingly written,
Thakn you for beign you. Love awlays, Laura.

Tears stung Isaiah's eyes as he returned the card to its envelope. Instead of passing it around, he tucked it under his leg. Eight simple words, but they meant the world to him. He could almost see her, hunched over the card at the kitchen table, struggling to form each letter.

When he unwrapped the gift, the room grew quiet. Isaiah slowly lifted the chunky figurine from the box so everyone might see it. Handcrafted from Mount Saint Helens volcanic ash, it was a female rottweiler, surrounded by a litter of pups.

“A paperweight,” Isaiah said huskily. Only it was so much more, something to remind him in years to come of this time that they'd had together.

When Isaiah looked up, he saw Laura's love for him shining in her eyes, along with a shimmer of tears. He felt as if a mule had kicked him squarely
in the chest. She was in love with him? His lungs deflated. His gut clenched. His heart pounded like a sledgehammer against his eardrums. She loved him. All this last week he'd been planning and plotting ways to coax her into his arms, and she'd been his for the taking all along. How the hell had he missed that?

The answer was there in Isaiah's mind almost before he finished asking himself the question. Laura believed with all her heart that her aphasia made her undesirable. His throat went tight as he gathered the torn wrapping paper from all the gifts into a pile.
Laura.
She'd carefully kept her feelings for him hidden, undoubtedly convinced that he would never return them. She considered herself damaged merchandise. Her ability to be a wife and mother was impaired. What man in his right mind would want a woman who couldn't write checks, misspelled simple words, and had difficulty talking?