Nearest Thing to Heaven (Maverick Junction) (7 page)

For a fraction of an instant, Cash had the look of a deer in headlights. Then he threw back his head and laughed. “Give us a chance to walk down the aisle first, sis.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t already been practicing.”

From the far end of the table, their mother started singing. “La, la, la, la, la.” She covered her ears. “I’m not hearing this.”

“Oh, come on, Mom. You don’t think your little boy’s celibate, do you?” Babs tossed a mischievous grin at Cash.

Annelise flushed ten shades of red, and Cash laughed again.

“Barbara Jean,” her dad said, “you’re embarrassing Annie.”

“Can I plead the fifth?” Cash asked, earning himself an elbow in the side from Annelise.

“There are children here,” she whispered.

“It’s all going over their heads,” Babs said. “They’re clueless.”

Amazed, Sophie wondered what she’d missed out on by not having siblings. Was this normal? Talking about sex at the Thanksgiving table with the entire family around?

Babs shifted her attention to Ty.

On alert, he dropped a roll onto his plate and held up his hands. “Hey, don’t look at me. I exceeded my biological footprint first time out of the gate.”

“So, how’s that new pasture down by the river working out, Matt?” Cash neatly changed the topic.

Sophie passed the sweet potato casserole to Ty. “Would you want more children? I mean if circumstances were different?”

“I…To be honest, it’s not even a blip on my radar, Tink. I’ve pretty well got my hands full with those guys.”

He nodded toward the small table where the kids squabbled and toyed with their food. Abilene, Babs’s daughter, was busy playing mom.

“And,” he continued, “it’s kind of a moot point, considering.”

She laid down her fork. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s just—You’re so good with them. I thought maybe someday…” She trailed off.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it was stupid.”

He placed a fingertip beneath her chin and forced her head up till she met his eyes. “It wasn’t. And it’s kind of nice to have someone look at me as a man rather than a widower.”

“Ty—” She licked her lips.

“Tink?”

“Yes?”

“Eat your dinner before it gets cold. Babs isn’t gonna let anybody have dessert till plates are cleaned, and I’m feeling rather partial to that pecan pie I spotted on the windowsill.”

The day passed quickly, and Sophie wondered how she’d ever doubted she’d fit in here. She hadn’t, for a single moment, felt like an outsider.

She sat at the small breakfast nook table talking to Cash’s mom and Ty’s mother-in-law about gardening. She loved flowers, and, when she traveled, she liked to learn about native species.

Annelise came up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “We’re ready to go.”

“Oh, okay.” Sophie jumped up.

“You and Cash go on ahead.” Ty spoke from behind her. “I’ll take Sophie home. That is, if she doesn’t mind riding in the van with car seats and whiny, over-stimulated kids.”

Again, she hadn’t heard him come up. Didn’t realize he was close. The man was stealthy.

Mindful that Cash’s mother was right there, she moved away from the table. “Are you staying at Cash’s tonight?” Sophie whispered.

“Do you mind?”

“No. Not at all. But what happened to last night’s idea that abstinence makes the wedding night fires burn more fiercely?”

Annelise’s eyes sparkled. “A couple really hot kisses out back on the deck changed my mind.”

“Hmmm. I can see where that might do it.”

“Thank you for understanding.” She squeezed Sophie’s hand. “You came all this way and here I am ignoring you.”

Sophie laughed. “You’re not ignoring me. We spent all day yesterday together…and last night. Besides, you’re the bride. You can do whatever you want. It’s the rule.”

Her cousin hugged her, then turned to Ty. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“If I minded driving a beautiful woman home, there’d be something seriously wrong with me.” He hesitated. “And believe me, there’s not a thing wrong with me.”

Sophie flushed.
Beautiful?
The next second she kicked herself. Ty was a gentleman. Still, her hormones spiked like a sixteen-year-old who’d just been smiled at by the class heartthrob. It had to stop…didn’t it?

“You know, I appreciate this. I really do. But tomorrow, I’m renting my own car. Since I’m staying longer than I’d planned, it’ll be more convenient for everyone. Besides, I don’t get to drive much in the city. It’ll be fun to have my own wheels.”

“I told you Cash will lend you one,” Annelise said.

“I know, but I can rent my own.” Though where the extra money would come from when the credit card bill rolled in, she had no idea. Something to worry about later.

“That’s silly,” Annelise argued.

“Probably. Still—”

Cash walked up in time to hear their conversation. He shook his head. “Oh, yeah, the two of you are related, all right. Stubborn women. Both of you.”

“You got that right,” Sophie said. “So tell me, where’s a good place to go?”

“To rent a car in Maverick Junction? Bear’s place. He’s got the best selection in town. And he’s honest,” Cash told her.

Ty shook his head and chuckled. “He’s also the only car rental in town.”

“True enough.” Cash grinned.

After Annelise and Cash left, Sophie tracked down her hostess to thank her for the lovely day. “It’s been wonderful, Babs.”

“Well, don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t.”

“Ty’s taking you home?”

“Yes.”

“He looks so much more relaxed, happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.” She leaned over and kissed Sophie’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“Oh, I think you have. And you will.”

Sophie frowned.

“Just go with it, Sophie. Don’t overthink it.”

Five minutes later, weighed down with leftovers, a tired little boy holding her hand, Sophie stepped out into the cool Texas air. She tipped her head and stared up into the star-strewn sky.

“Mommy’s up there,” came a whisper beside her. “Daddy told me.”

Heart clutching, she looked down into eyes the same gray as his daddy’s. “Yes, sweetheart, she is. And she’s watching you right now, blowing you a kiss good night.”

The child held out his hand, then curled it. “Caught it.”

When he grinned up at her, tears filled her eyes. She glanced up and met Ty’s, staring at her across the top of the van. Her throat clogged. How did he deal with this, day after day after day?

She had a thousand questions, but now wasn’t the time to ask them. Maybe she’d never find a good time. After all, what gave her the right to ask questions that would undoubtedly cause hurt?

By the time they reached her house, all three kids were fast asleep. “How do you get them all in the house and back to sleep?”

“Once they’re out, nothing wakes them, thank God. I carry them inside one at a time and tuck them into bed.”

When she slid out, he did, too, quietly closing his door.

“You don’t need to walk me up.”

His brows rose. “Didn’t we already have this discussion?”

She sighed. “Yes, but there wasn’t a trio of little boys sleeping in the vehicle then.”

“Nope. Sure wasn’t.”

He took her hand, and she sucked in her breath. What was there about this man that affected her so quickly, so easily?

As they headed down the drive, Ty said, “They never knew their mother. She—we lost her before they could even be released from the hospital. They were preemies, you know, which is pretty usual with multiple births.”

He looked toward the sky. “In Julia’s case, with her heart, they came even earlier. Once her system started shutting down, things happened pretty quickly. The doctor had to take the babies to save them.”

His thumb rubbed across the back of her hand, sending shivers through her. “I’m only telling you this so you understand. They’ve seen pictures of her, and their grandma and grandpa have told them lots of stories about her.”

“And you told them she’s a star in the heavens looking down on them.”

He nodded. “Makes her a little more concrete.”

“Oh, Ty.” A tear slipped down her cheek, and she swiped at it. “I’m sorry. Really. For everything. For your loss. For my stupid tears—”

“Tears aren’t stupid, Tink.” He thumbed a fresh one off her cheek. “You’ve got a big heart. I like that about you.” For the space of several heartbeats, he leaned close, then took a step back. “Good night, Sophie London.”

“Good night, Ty Rawlins.”

She sat on the top step outside her apartment for a long time after his taillights disappeared, thinking about the cowboy who’d brought her home. It couldn’t be easy to raise three boys alone. Or bury your wife when they were only days old. Yet here he was, not only doing it, but doing one heck of a great job with it.

The wreath on Dottie’s kitchen door caught her eye. Thanksgiving. A day to reflect on all that was right and good. She’d have to say that Ty Rawlins came under that heading, like it or not.

But he wasn’t hers to be thankful for…nor would he ever be. Their lives were about as far apart as it was possible to get. And wasn’t that a shame.

B
y the time Sophie opened her eyes, the sun was well up. She yawned and stretched, her toes curling into the soft blue sheets. One thing about Annelise Montjoy. When she did something, she went all the way, no holding back.

And this sweet apartment was proof positive. Everything about it spelled comfort. Joy. Sophie couldn’t think of a single thing she’d change.

She plumped her pillow and slid a second one beneath her head. So peaceful. Outside her open window, a bird sang practically nonstop. No car horns, no buses, no sirens. She could lie here for hours.

Speaking of hours—she had them. She grinned and stretched again, arms above her head. She had nowhere she had to be until tonight’s rehearsal and dinner. What should she do between now and then? Lie in the sun? Read? Fill that wonderful old claw-foot tub with bubbles and lounge in it until she was a wrinkled prune?

Nope. Work. She needed to work.

Pouting, she closed her eyes and pulled the covers over her head. She didn’t want to work. But wasn’t that the reason she’d decided to stay in Maverick Junction? To get caught up with her spring line of greeting cards?

No. She sighed. She couldn’t even pretend that was the case. Truth was, she’d chosen to hide from Nathan Richards. And wasn’t that a sad state of affairs.

Where was her backbone? She didn’t generally wimp out. In her defense, she
had
tried. She’d told him time and again they were over, there was nothing there.

Ty’s ruggedly handsome face, his heart-stopping dimples, all that thick, gorgeous black hair and gray, gray eyes popped into her mind. The heat when he touched her. She went all tingly and admitted to herself she wouldn’t do much running if he was the one doing the chasing.

But then, he wouldn’t chase, would he?

If the number of female eyes following their progress through Bubba’s and on the dance floor was any indication, he had no trouble finding accommodating women friends.

What was he doing this morning? Besides fixing oatmeal or whatever it was you fed four-year-olds for breakfast. Did he have a housekeeper? He must. Otherwise, how could he ever begin to keep up, to get everything done?

She couldn’t imagine. And didn’t want to.

Maybe she’d take a walk before she settled down to work. Check out her new, temporary neighborhood. Walking usually started her creative juices flowing. She scampered out of bed and dug in her suitcase for a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeve T-shirt since there’d been a definite chill in the air last night. She found her old sneakers tucked into one of the side suitcase pockets.

Outside on the landing, she hesitated. She didn’t know Maverick Junction. Would she get lost? How could she in such a small town? Even if she did, she could always ask for directions. Everybody in town had to know Dottie Willis.

After she’d covered several streets, she realized that, while the town might not rate high on the best-dressed list, it had character. Most of all, she loved the porch swings. They spoke of lazy summer evenings. Of afternoon iced tea. Of family.

An hour later, the walk no longer seemed like such a good idea. Storm clouds rolled in out of nowhere, and the world turned dark and ominous. She headed her sneakers toward home. Or at least she hoped so. She’d done a little window-shopping and had covered every street in town—some twice—so there was a good possibility she’d gotten turned around.

A fat drop of rain splattered her face. Uh-oh.

Before she’d taken two more steps, someone in Heaven opened the spigot full blast. Inside a New York minute, her hair lay plastered to her head, her T-shirt and pants clung to her like second skin, and her shoes sloshed.

Exasperated, she slogged on. Hadn’t she left Chicago thinking she would get away from the cold? Right now she was freezing…and absolutely, totally miserable.

Behind her, an engine rumbled. The big black truck slowed and pulled to the curb. Ty Rawlins leaned across the seat and threw open the door.

“Get in. You look like a skinned rat.”

“Gee, thanks. You use that line on all the ladies?”

“Nope. Only the ones foolish enough to get themselves caught outside in a monsoon.”

She hesitated. Water dripped from her hair, her hands, ran down her nose and off her chin. “I’ll get your truck all wet.”

“Been wet before. Imagine it’ll be wet again.” He dug a towel out from beneath the seat. “Here you go. You can either wrap it around you or throw it on the seat under you.”

She wanted the warmth badly but tossed the rumpled towel on the seat before climbing in.

“I’ll turn on the heat.” He flipped a switch, and blessed warmth circulated through the cab.

“How is it you manage to show up just when I need you?” The rain hammered incessantly against the truck’s roof, and she had to raise her voice to be heard.

Hand on the gear knob, his truck thrumming, Ty grinned. “Didn’t you know? I’m one of those comic book superheroes.” He patted the dashboard. “Me and my trusty steed. I’m known in these parts as…” His voice deepened. “Black Truck Man.”

She laughed and punched his arm lightly. “In your dreams.”

“You might be surprised at my dreams lately.”

She swore all the air had been sucked from the truck.

He cleared his throat. “How ’bout we chalk it up to good luck.”

“For me, maybe. Major inconvenience for you.”

He studied her. “Oddly enough, not what I’m thinking.” With a glance in his rearview mirror, he pulled out onto the street.

“Had to stop at the bank this morning after I dropped the boys off at my mom’s. No day care today because of the holiday, so they’ll spend some time with her and come home spoiled as all get-out. Then I ran by Doc’s place to pick up some medicine.”

“Is one of the boys sick?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Doc Gibson is the vet here in town, the one Brawley’s been helping. He’s getting on in years, though. Not sure how much longer he’s gonna be able to take care of our animals.”

“Is there another nearby?”

“Nope.”

And that, she guessed, was the end of that conversation. Which was okay. She liked Ty. He was easy to be with, the silence friendly.

When he pulled into her drive, he again reached beneath the seat, this time pulling out a collapsible umbrella.

“What’s with this?” she asked.

Ty frowned in confusion. “An umbrella. It’s raining.”

“Believe me, I noticed,” she said ruefully. “I mean, what’s with the seat? It’s like Mary Poppins’s bag. You reach under it and, voilà, whatever you need appears.”

“Ah, wouldn’t the boys love the idea of a truck that’s totally supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”

“You’re up on your Disney movies.”

“Who hasn’t seen
Mary Poppins
? I think it’s a rite of passage.”

“True. Your boys have watched it?”

“At least fifty times.” He sang a few bars of the catchy tune.

She blinked. Not only did he know the words, he had a darn good baritone voice.

He stopped, laughed. “Sorry about that. It’s a rare occasion when I subject anyone to my singing.”

“That’s too bad. You should sing more often.”

Trailing a finger along the back of her wet hand, he said, “For reasons I don’t begin to understand, Sophie, you make me want to do exactly that.”

She didn’t know what to say.

Torrential rain pounded the roof and defied the windshield wipers. Inside the truck felt very intimate. Too intimate. Time to leave. She reached for the door handle.

“Wait a minute.” When he hopped out, she gaped at him.

“What are you doing?”

Instead of answering, he slammed the door shut, popped the umbrella, and ran around the front of the truck. Coming to her door, he opened it, holding the umbrella over her as she stepped down.

“Let’s go.”

“You don’t need to walk me in. I’m already soaked.”

“Don’t argue.” He hunched his shoulders. “I’m getting wet. And we’re not walking anywhere. We’re running. Come on.” He grabbed her hand.

“Oh for…” But she raced across the drive, then up the steps with him. By the time they reached the landing, they were both sopping wet.

When she stepped inside the apartment, he followed, leaving the umbrella outside on the stoop.

They looked at each other and started laughing.

“The umbrella didn’t help much, did it?”

She shook her head.

His gaze dropped to her shirt, and his laughter faded. “You might want to, ah…” He wet his lips.

She looked down. Oh, Jiminy Crickets! The white tee she’d pulled on that morning had turned totally transparent. The barely-there bra left very little to the imagination.

“I’d better be on my way.”

“Wait.” She reached out, took his hand. She didn’t want him to leave. Despite all the reasons Ty was totally wrong for her, she wanted to spend more time with him. With this man who told his children their mother watched over them from the starry night sky. Who worried about her problem with Nathan.

She had a batting average of exactly zero when it came to picking guys. Yet Ty tempted her. Ty with his three boys. A ranch. Cattle. A man who knew who Tinker Bell was. Knew the words to Disney songs and had a magnificent voice.

Dimples you could get lost in. A mouth that looked like sin itself.

She’d be crazy to tempt fate. Still, she heard herself ask, “Why don’t you stay for a cup of coffee? Get warmed up. I’ll put on a pot right after I change. Before I do that, though, I’ll get you a towel. I’d offer to dry your clothes, but…” She shrugged and held out her hands, palms up. “No laundry here.”

“You sure? About me staying?”

Her mind screamed
no
. Her mouth said, “Absolutely. Unless you have something else you have to do, somewhere else you need to be.”

“Nope. I’m more than happy right here where it’s dry. For now, I’ll have that coffee and wait for the rain to let up. Don’t think it’s gonna hang around long.”

She hurried into the bath and pulled a couple towels for him. “Here you go. I found this on one of the shelves. My guess is that it’s Cash’s. I’m sure he won’t mind if you borrow it.” She tossed Ty a faded green T-shirt.

He snatched it one-handed out of the air. “Thanks. Now go dry off and change before you get sick. Can’t have a snuffling, sneezing maid of honor.”

While she stripped and toweled off, her mind kept wandering to the fact that only a single wall separated her naked body from Ty’s tall, muscular one.

Quit going there, Sophie London! What is wrong with you?

Taking herself firmly in hand, she reminded herself that Ty was Cash’s friend. He’d seen her out, caught in a deluge, and stopped to help. He didn’t want her sick for the wedding. Nothing more, nothing less. And unless she wanted to make a fool of herself, she’d keep that firmly in mind.

In dry jeans and a blouse, her hair tied back, she walked into the kitchen. Ty, wearing Cash’s old shirt, stood with cup in hand, watching the slow drip of the coffeemaker.

“Hope you don’t mind. I made myself at home. You gonna have a cup?”

“No. I’ll make tea.” She busied herself with the task. “I sure hope you’re right about this rain. Otherwise, Annelise will be one upset bride. The ceremony and reception are both outside. It can’t rain tomorrow.” Her eyes widened. “It can’t rain tonight. We’ve got rehearsal.”

“See, that’s the thing about Mother Nature.” Ty hooked a thumb in his front pocket. “She’s female.”

Sophie raised a brow. “And…?”

He shrugged. “She’s gonna do exactly what she wants, when she wants, darlin’. Regardless of anyone’s plans.”

When she opened her mouth, he held up a hand. “Now, hold on a minute and let me finish. In this case, you don’t need to worry. According to The Weather Channel, tomorrow is gonna be the kind of day every bride hopes for. This front blew in fast, and it’s gonna blow out the same way. By tonight’s rehearsal, we’ll never know it was here. Everything’ll be dried up.”

“I sure hope you’re right.”

“I am.”

She gaped at him.

“Superhero, remember? I know things.” He tapped the side of his head, then nodded toward her computer. “You said you design greeting cards. Do you do that on your laptop?”

“Yes, which is convenient. I can work anywhere.”

“Got some on there I can look at?”

She sent him a smile. “Sure. Dottie actually has wireless here, which makes my life a lot simpler.” She hit power and brought up her website. “I can stay plugged in to everything.”

“Yeah, she wants to be able to Facebook with her grandkids.”

“Do you Facebook, Ty?”

“You kidding?” He grimaced. “I don’t have time. The only books I’m into are the Little Golden Books.
Goldilocks and the Three
Bears, Doctor Seuss
.
The Little Engine That
Could
. I use my computer for work. Period.”

He picked up a chunk of blue and gold stone and turned it over in his hand. “Pretty. What is it?”

“Lapis lazuli. It promotes creativity. Fires up the imagination.”

He shrugged and laid it on the table.

“You don’t believe in the power of crystals?” she asked.

“Whatever floats your boat, Tink.”

She studied him. Did he realize what a mass of contradictions he was? How could he stand there and call her Tink, yet deny the magic of crystals?

Turning back to her laptop, she scrolled down the page to show him samples of her cards.

“Nice. Your artwork is spectacular.”

“Thanks.”

“You draw—or paint—them all yourself?”

She nodded.

“Impressive.” He moved closer to the screen, squinted, then scrolled to another and then another. “I see lots of fairies, Sophie.” He glanced at the sun catchers he’d noticed in her window. “Kind of like those.”

“I put at least one on every card. My signature, sort of.”

“Interesting.”

A ping sounded, signaling a new e-mail message. She frowned.

“Go ahead and check it. I’m gonna freshen up my coffee.” He glanced out the window. “Looks like the rain’s slowing down, so I’ll hit the road here in a minute.”

Though a piece of her sighed in disappointment at that, she logged on and pulled up the new message. “Oh, phooey.”