Still Waters (18 page)

J
ake began his campaign the next day.

First he drove to the diner and picked up a bag of fresh pastries. Then to the hardware store where he purchased several lengths of treated wood. Tiffany would be surprised to see him. He’d use that to his advantage.

He planned to woo her. And he planned to do it right. A smile tugged at the corner of Jake’s mouth, as he remembered Tiffany scoffing at the old-fashioned word and at the idea that any man would go to the trouble to pursue her.

Jake was about to prove her wrong. Candy, flowers, moonlit walks—Tiffany was going to get all the wooing a woman could ever want. And, when she’d finally had enough, he’d tell her the only way she could get him to stop would be to marry him.

Grinning a little at the thought, Jake pulled up in front of
Tiffany’s house and got out of the truck. Pastry bag in hand, he walked up the steps and onto the porch.

Tiffany heard the doorbell ring as she got out of the shower. With her soft cast still wrapped in a plastic trash bag, she had a difficult time pulling on the cotton pullover she’d picked from her closet. She managed to yank it on and pull on drawstring shorts before the doorbell rang again. With her wet hair dripping down her back, she raced downstairs, fumbled with the security code for the alarm system and finally managed to open the door on the third ring. She didn’t know who she had expected, but it wasn’t Jake. Lifting a hand to smooth her soaked hair, she tried to act like having Jake on her doorstep first thing in the morning was a natural occurrence. “Jake. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I hope you don’t mind. I’ve been suffering guilt pangs and I decided to clear my conscience.”

“Guilt? About what?” Tiffany hoped he wasn’t going to say the kiss. She’d been trying hard to put it out of her mind.

“I think Tom quit because of the fear I put into him the other night. Since it’s my fault you don’t have hired help anymore, I thought it only fair that I pitch in with the gazebo renovations.”

“That isn’t—”

“I thought you might argue, so I brought these.” Jake held up a white bag. “They’re Danishes. I hope you don’t mind eating pastries for breakfast.”

“I’ll eat a Danish anytime.”

Jake’s grin sent Tiffany’s heart skittering into overdrive and she turned away quickly, hoping to hide her blush.

Jake followed her into the house. “You look rested. Good night sleep?”

“Yes, having an alarm system makes me feel pretty safe.” Tiffany led the way into the kitchen.

“When I was growing up we had a security system. It never made me feel safe.”

Surprised, Tiffany looked up from the plates she was setting on the table. “Really? Was there a lot of crime in your neighborhood?”

“Some. But I think the system was designed to keep me and my mom in as much as it was to keep others out.”

“Keep you in?”

“Only my father had the code. He liked to control the people in his life.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Yes, but it was a long time ago.”

“Are you and your father close now?”

“My father has been dead for years. If he were alive, I doubt we’d be friends.”

Tiffany met Jake’s gaze. His blue eyes were steady, pain and regret shining from their depth. Reaching out, Tiffany touched his hand. “Jake, I’m so sorry.”

“Like I said, it was a long time ago.”

“Not so long ago that it doesn’t still hurt.”

“True, but I’m trying to move on. It’s past time for me to forgive my father and forgive myself.”

“Forgive yourself? For what?”

Jake ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the base of his neck. “I’ve made mistakes. One of them was my first marriage. Sheila was…lovely. Very sweet when we first met, but demanding. I didn’t know how to handle that. I’d been raised to take care of myself and had no idea there were people who didn’t know how to do that.”

“Did you marry young?” Tiffany couldn’t stop the question. Jake hadn’t talked about his past before, and she wanted to know everything.

“Not so young that I could use that as an excuse. I was
twenty-six. She was a year younger. I’ll tell you more. But not now. Now I want to sit down, eat breakfast and enjoy the company of a beautiful woman.”

Tiffany had to bite her tongue to keep from asking more questions. She had so many things she wanted to know, but pushing for more information seemed nosy and rude, especially since Jake had called her beautiful. Smiling, she grabbed the bag from his hands and looked inside. “All right. Did you bring any cheese Danish?”

They discussed Jake’s offer of help over breakfast, Tiffany explaining that she didn’t need to have the gazebo finished any time soon, and Jake arguing that one more winter might be too much for the old structure. In the end, unable to think of any compelling argument against it, Tiffany let him have his way. “I guess I can’t turn down free help.”

“I was hoping you’d see it my way.” Jake stood and grabbed the empty Danish bag, tossing it into the trash can as he made his way to the mudroom. “I’ve got some treated wood in the truck. I’m going to bring it out and leave it in the garage.”

“You already bought wood?” Tiffany tried to curb her irritation but wondered at the presumptuousness of his actions.

“Not much. The garage apartment I’m staying in has a little deck off the back. It needs some work and I told Mrs. Murphy I could do it for her. I stopped by the hardware store and picked up enough wood to finish the project.”

“Shouldn’t you bring it to your place, then, instead of using it here?”

“I could, but if I need wood for your project it’ll be nice to have some on hand. You can reimburse me for the cost if I use it.”

Mollified, Tiffany nodded her head. “Okay. That’s fair. Let me just go run a brush through my hair and I’ll come out and help you.”

She was sure Jake would argue and was prepared to stand firm, but he surprised her by quickly agreeing. “Great. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Not sure what to think of Jake’s presence, or his sudden offer to lend a hand, Tiffany stood up, threw the remainder of her Danish to Bandit and hurried up the stairs.

Her hair, impossibly curly and thick on the best of days, clumped together in masses of tangled curls in the aftermath of her one-handed shampoo. Spraying on a detangler, Tiffany tried to work a comb through her hair, gave up and tugged a brush down its length. With a little finesse, she was able to twist her hair into a clip that would keep most of it off her face and neck. She might not look great, but at least she wouldn’t swelter under the weight of her heavy hair.

A few gentle pulls at soaked tape released the bag from her broken arm and Tiffany shrugged on the sling, wincing a little as she moved her arm into it. She considered putting on makeup, decided against it, and shoved her feet into sneakers, not bothering to tighten the laces. Calling to Bandit, she rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen. The big dog was waiting beside his empty food and water bowls, dark eyes faintly accusing.

Tiffany quickly replenished his water and scooped food into his bowl. “Sorry, guy, I haven’t forgotten you. It’s just been a busy morning.”

Bandit licked her hand and turned his attention to breakfast.

By the time Tiffany made her way across the yard to the gazebo, Jake had propped the ladder up against the side of the roof and was jotting measurements into a notebook.
Sunlight glinted off his dark hair, causing it to glow with fiery warmth. As she approached, he glanced her way and smiled, the blue of his eyes so intense Tiffany felt the breath catch in her throat.

“Hey, I was hoping you’d show up about now. I need a steady hand on the ladder while I climb. Think you can manage?”

“Sure.” Tiffany grabbed hold of the ladder and held it as Jake climbed.

While he measured, he asked Tiffany a few questions about her attacker, prodding for details Tiffany was unable to give. She felt frustrated by her inability to give a more detailed description and said as much.

“You’re no different than most people who witness a crime. Things happen so fast, it’s hard to remember the details afterward.”

“I still wish I could.”

“The knock you took on your head probably dulled some of your memory. Maybe in a few days you’ll remember more details.” Finishing a last measurement, he backed down the ladder and stood beside Tiffany.

“Even if you don’t remember anything else, we’ll catch the person.”

“You sound pretty confident.”

“I am. I know who it is. I just need to prove it. Or catch him next time.”

“You think there’s going to be a next time?”

“There’s no doubt in my mind. The kid is cocky and has something to prove. He’ll make more trouble before he leaves.”

The thought of someone lurking around waiting to strike again made Tiffany’s heart do a nervous jig.

As if sensing her concern, Jake hurried to reassure her.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Tom’s buddies got what they wanted. Now that he doesn’t work for you, their focus will shift.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Jake reached out and tugged at a curl that had escaped Tiffany’s clip. “Relax, I won’t let anything else happen to you.”

His hand slid from her hair and brushed against her cheek, making Tiffany’s heart dance for an entirely different reason other than fear. Suddenly Jake wasn’t just the friend he claimed to be. Nor was he simply an acquaintance. Instead, he looked at her as if she had immeasurable beauty, as if he wanted something only she could give.

Startled by the transformation, Tiffany opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but Jake turned away and the moment was lost.

“I don’t think I’ll need to replace much of the roof. A few nails, some sanding and refinishing should do it.”

Tiffany blinked, confused by the turn in conversation and not entirely comfortable with her response to Jake. “Maybe I’ll go back to the house. I don’t think there’s much I can do to help with the roof.”

“All right. I’ll check in when I’m done.”

“Be careful.”

“You, too.” Jake sent a grin in her direction and Tiffany hurried away, determined not to ruin their friendship by falling in love with the man.

Unfortunately, she was afraid it might already be too late.

She lectured herself on the folly of her emotions as she mixed a pitcher of lemonade. Just because Jake’s smile seemed softer, just because heat seemed to simmer between them, was no reason for Tiffany to lose sight of the big picture.

And the big picture was that Jake didn’t want commitment. He didn’t want another marriage. And he more than likely didn’t want her.

That firmly in mind, Tiffany carried the lemonade outside. Jake stood on the ladder sanding off layers of chipped, gray paint. The hum of the electric sander muffled the sound of her approach and Tiffany stood for several minutes, watching him work. What was God’s purpose in bringing them together time after time? Surely He had a reason Tiffany couldn’t imagine.

Jake glanced down, saw her and turned off the sander, a warm smile curving his lips. “I didn’t expect to see you out here again.”

“It’s getting hot. I brought you some lemonade.”

“I was just thinking a drink might be good.” Jake stepped down off the ladder and took the pitcher. “Do I drink out of the pitcher?”

“Nope, I came prepared.” Hoping Jake wouldn’t notice how nervous she suddenly felt, Tiffany reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out a small plastic cup. “Here you go.”

“Cute trick. You’re getting too skinny if you can fit a cup in your pants pocket.”

“It’s a small cup.”

Jake snorted and poured himself a drink, taking a long swallow before passing the cup to Tiffany. “It’s great. Have some.”

“Thanks.” Tiffany took the cup and sipped the refreshing liquid, smiling as Jake grabbed the cup before she could drink more. “You’re greedy.”

“No. I just don’t know how to share.”

Tiffany laughed at that, watching as he sat on the bench, put the pitcher down on the floor, and stretched
his legs out in front of him. He seemed completely comfortable and at ease, a fact that made Tiffany unreasonably happy.

Tugging at her hand, he pulled her down beside him, and offered his cup again. She eyed it dubiously. “I thought you said you didn’t know how to share.”

“I learn fast with the right motivation.”

“What would that be? Fear that I won’t offer you lemonade again?”

“More like fear you’ll go back in the house to get your own and leave me here alone again.”

Flustered, Tiffany turned from him and gestured at Bandit. “You weren’t alone. Bandit’s been out here all morning.”

“He’s a guy. He doesn’t count as worthwhile companionship.”

“You’re full of it.”

“That’s what my mom used to tell me.”

Tiffany grabbed the cup Jake still held out to her and took a swallow. “Do you see your mom often?”

Now it was Jake’s turn to look away, his gaze leaving Tiffany and staring into the past. “She’s been gone for years. Cancer. Though I’ve always said she died of a broken heart.”

“She couldn’t accept your father’s death?”

“Actually, she passed away before he did. All those years of loving someone who couldn’t love her back destroyed her spirit long before the cancer destroyed her body.”

Appalled at the picture of family life Jake painted for her, Tiffany set the cup down and reached for his hand. She could think of no words of comfort, nothing that would take away the painful memories and so she kept her peace.

They sat silently in the warm summer air, the scent of pine heavy around them, connected by clasped hands and heavy hearts. Finally Jake turned to look at Tiffany, his eyes sad,
his hand squeezing hers lightly. “For a long time I thought I’d done the same to Sheila. Broken her heart and destroyed her the way my father did my mother. When she died that feeling was reinforced. I thought if I’d just loved her more she wouldn’t have turned to drinking for solace.”

“Jake—”

“I know.” He smiled, but sadness lingered in his gaze. “She made her choices. She partied before we met, partied while we were married. The pattern was there. I just didn’t see it.”