One Big Happy Family Page 14

  He smiled across the table at her. He had a feeling he was going to pass her test with flying colors. And his own test, too.

  Chapter Eight

  Duchess turned from her dish and glared at Sam, looking as fierce as a lion in the wild. “Boy.” Sam pulled her hand away from Kevin’s cats. “For a little fuzzball you certainly look mean.”

  “They can be pretty grumpy at times,” Kevin said with a chuckle.

  Sam stepped back and watched the two cats eat their canned food. She and Kevin had finished their own dinner—spaghetti with Kevin’s homemade sauce—and had cleaned up the dishes before he fed his cats. It was a very comfortable—homey—atmosphere.

  Sam leaned against the stove. “Well, at least they don’t give the people who take care of them heart attacks.”

  “What are you going to do?” Kevin asked. “Hold a grudge against Prissy forever?”

  “Sure. I’m the youngest,” Sam replied. “Family babies hold grudges the longest.”

  “Sounds like you guys are maladjusted.”

  “Older siblings are always insensitive.”

  Kevin shook his head. “And where did this little nugget of information come from? The Youngest Siblings Society?”

  “Something like that.”

  Outside of the scare with Prissy yesterday, Sam had had a wonderful time with Kevin. And the age difference that he’d seemed so concerned about had been unnoticeable. When her friends had joined them for dinner last night, he had fit in perfectly—like he had gone to high school with them all. She would like to keep on seeing him.

  But how did he feel about things? Certainly his inviting her over this evening for dinner had to mean something positive.

  Sam picked up the open can of cat food and divided the remains equally between the two cats. “Poor little guys,” she said. “They were starving.”

  “They had dry food,” he replied.

  “See?” Sam wagged a finger at Kevin. “What did I tell you? You’re the oldest kid in your family and look at your attitude.”

  “There were only two of us,” Kevin protested. “And my sister is the bossy one.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re still the oldest.”

  “Guilty as charged,” he admitted. “Want some more wine?”

  “Okay.” She picked up her glass and held it for Kevin to refill. Duchess glanced over her shoulder, glaring at Sam with dislike. “Maybe I should wait in the other room.”

  Kevin shook his head. “You’re going to let a little sixpound tyrant kick you out?”

  “Sure.” She just laughed and, taking her glass of wine, wandered into a small office off the living room. Bookshelves covered one wall of the room and she let her eyes dance over the titles, curious about Kevin’s reading habits.

  But her gaze stopped almost immediately on the two portraits—one of a young woman and one of a young man. Stacy and Jon? Sam thought she could faintly see Kevin in the young people’s faces.

  “Where’d you go?” Kevin called out, then appeared in the doorway. “You can take the lady out of the library, but not the library out of the lady.”

  “Very funny.” She nodded at the pictures. “Jon and Stacy?”

  “Yep.”

  “They’re good-looking kids,” she said. “You must miss them.”

  He just shrugged. “They have their own lives. That’s how it is when your kids grow up.”

  “Are they coming in for your birthday?”

  “No. They’re too busy.”

  “Have you asked them to?”

  “I’m not a birthday person,” he said and turned toward the living room. “Want to watch a movie? I’ve got a lot of videos.”

  “Sure.” She followed Kevin into the living room. “How about if you choose? I’ll pick the next time.”

  “Okay.”

  As she sat down on the sofa, Kevin went to the shelf of videos. Sam was sure that he would choose some John Wayne flick, but she really didn’t care. She was more interested in the fact that he’d accepted her reference to a “next time.”

  “How about Fantasia?” he suggested. “I enjoy the musical score.”

  Flabbergasted, Sam could only blink for a moment before replying. “Sure.”

  Kevin loaded the video and sat by her side. She pulled her bare feet under herself, leaning against him. He was not only attractive, but he was also nice. A potent combination. She took a sip of her wine, then put the glass on the end table near her.

  “It’s not too late, you know,” she told him.

  He frowned at her. “For what?”

  “To be a part of your kids’ lives again,” she said. “But if you keep pushing them away, it’ll be harder and harder.”

  “I’m not pushing them away.”

  “Are you pulling them closer?”

  “They aren’t at an age where they want to be close to a parent,” he said. His voice sounded tense, on edge.

  But Sam didn’t care. “How do you know? They’ve gone through a lot in the last few years. Even if you don’t think you need to be part of their lives, they may need to be part of yours. Kids need to be secure in their roots.”

  “That seems strange, coming from you,” he snapped. “Considering you’re denying one set of your roots.”

  She pulled away from him. “I’m not denying anybody.”

  “Are you accepting that both sets of parents had a role in who you are?”

  “Of course, not that it takes me very far,” she replied, a little terse herself. “What I know about my biological parents would fill a half sheet of paper—even in large print. And that’s adding what Fiona and Cassie remember.”

  “Have you ever thought of looking for more? There have to be people out there who remember them.”

  “I couldn’t do that to Dad.”

  Kevin just sighed—long and loud. “What if your parents had family that are still around? If you found them, you’d be giving a piece of your parents back to them. Think of how happy they’d be.”

  It was something she hadn’t thought about before. Not quite like that, anyway. “My mother doesn’t have any family left,” she said slowly. “She grew up in South Bend and we looked, but I have no idea if my father has family around. He never talked about his past or his family, not even his friends.”

  “So find out.” He took her hand in his. “You know where he came from?”

  “An Indian reservation in South Dakota.”

  “Then check it out. Don’t put it off.” His grip on her hand tightened and his eyes drew hers to his. Their look was soft. Gentle. Kind. “Debbie’s death taught me that we don’t have forever. It’s easy to put things off, but sometimes you put them off until it’s too late.”

  “I know…”

  She let her words trail off, as the air around her grew stuffy, filling with a growing tension. His eyes looked so serious and solemn. It would be so easy to get lost in those eyes, to rest there and follow his lead. But this was about more than herself.

  “It’s good advice for you, too,” she told him.

  “I suppose.”

  He sighed and, letting go of her hand, leaned his head back against the top of the sofa. “Have I been acting like John Wayne?”

  “A little.”

  “And I’ve probably flunked my test, right?”

  “Did you want to?” she asked. “I’m willing to grade on a curve.”

  He sat up, his eyes serious. “What are you saying? Are we going to give it a try?”

  “Why not?” she countered, her heart suddenly in her throat, making it hard to breathe. “Just for fun.”

  “Sure,” he said. “Just for fun.”

  But then she was in his arms and his lips on hers felt like anything but light, carefree fun. There were sparks in his touch and somehow the promise of freedom. She was soaring into the treetops, gliding on the night breezes even as her soul was on fire.

  She wanted his embrace to go on forever, to last as long as the stars. She wasn’t afraid t
o let her heart trust him. She wasn’t worried about tomorrow or her goals or making everyone happy. There was only here and now and Kevin. Music swirled around her, like a thousand violins bursting into song. The beating of her heart tried to match the crescendo.

  They pulled apart, both breathing hard. Their eyes were locked on each other, but still the music filled the air. Suddenly Sam began to laugh as she turned to the TV. Fantasia had started and was providing the musical accompaniment.

  “I think we missed half the movie,” she said.

  “We can do it again.”

  The movie or the kiss? She just smiled at him and cuddled up to his side. “Sure.” If they were to take a vote, hers would go for repeating the kiss. “Cassie’s wedding is next Saturday. Would you like to come with me?”

  “The brothers threatening to find you a date again?”

  “Does the sun set in the west?”

  He laughed and reached over to kiss the tip of her nose. “I’d love to come with you,” he said.

  “I really appreciate you helping with this,” Cassie said as she carried a stack of boxes up the steps. Her fiancé’s aunt Hattie was just behind her with another box. “I can’t believe how much last-minute stuff there is to do before a wedding.”

  Sam held the front door open for the two of them, grabbing Toby out of their way. “You could have eloped,” she replied. “No fuss. No muss.”

  “And half the world wouldn’t speak to her again,” Aunt Hattie said.

  “I didn’t think she would’ve cared.”

  “At this point, I don’t think I would have.” Cassie put the boxes on the entryway floor. “That’s just a dent in the pile. There must be millions of silk flowers out there.”

  “Millions?” Sam repeated with a laugh. “Is it too late to back out now? How about if I remember I was supposed to work today?”

  “You do, and you’re dead meat.”

  Aunt Hattie just shook her head. “She’s been like that all day.”

  Sam just laughed some more. “Boy, and here I was afraid love and pregnancy was mellowing her.”

  They carried in the rest of the boxes. Then, while Sam and Cassie spread the silk flowers out over the living-room floor, Aunt Hattie went into the kitchen. She brought back a glass of iced tea and a glass of milk, plus a plate of muffins that smelled wonderful.

  “Milk?” Cassie protested when Aunt Hattie handed her that glass. “I don’t even like milk.”

  “Don’t matter none,” Aunt Hattie said. “Your baby does.”

  Cassie just made a face and turned to Sam. “She does that to me all the time. I’m waiting for her to say the baby wants me to clean out my refrigerator or do the laundry.”

  Sam just laughed and helped herself to one of the muffins. They were still warm from the oven. “I think it’s great, Aunt Hattie. We never could make her do anything she didn’t want to do, so I say go for it.”

  “What I’m going to go for is the kitchen,” Aunt Hattie said. “If you’re still sure it’s okay for me to bake the cookies here.”

  “Sure,” Sam told her and nodded at the muffin. “For another one of these, you can have the kitchen.”

  Aunt Hattie just smiled and went back through the swinging door.

  “It was really nice of you to let her use your kitchen,” Cassie said. “I guess these little wedding cookies are some tradition in Jack’s family, but she wants them to be a surprise.”

  “I think that’s sweet.” Sam pulled over a pile of silk flowers and began to wind the flowers into garlands that would decorate the house on Saturday for the wedding. “So, are you excited?”

  “Yes.”

  Cassie’s smile was soft and secretive—and awoke longings in Sam to feel that way about someone. She plucked another rose from the pile.

  “Fiona called last night,” Sam said. “Alex’s cousin died. She said they’d be back Thursday. Said I should tell you not to worry. She wouldn’t miss your wedding.”

  “It was too bad about Alex’s cousin.”

  “Yes.”

  They worked in silence for a while, the garlands growing longer and longer. And growing larger and larger in Sam’s mind were questions she’d never even thought to ask.

  “Do you ever feel funny talking about our first parents?” Sam asked suddenly.

  “Funny?” Cassie just frowned at her.

  “You know.” Sam shrugged. “Like you were being disloyal to the Scotts.”

  “Not really.” Cassie finished up one thirty-foot length and coiled it along the far wall. “Dad always seemed to feel if we’d be happier knowing, then we should try to find out.”

  “I guess.” Sam stared down at the flowers in her lap. “There’s not much to know, though, is there? I mean, Mom didn’t have any family but us and we don’t know much of anything about Dad.”

  “Except where he was from.”

  “Yes.” Sam twisted one of the roses around her finger like a ring. “Did you ever think he might have family somewhere other than the reservation?”

  Cassie frowned. “I suppose he might. I hadn’t thought much about the possibility of relatives.”

  “Do you think they knew he was killed?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so. If there were relatives to notify, wouldn’t you think we would have been sent to them?”

  “True.”

  Sam slid her rose ring off her finger and leaned back against the sofa. Toby had come over to sniff at the fake flowers. The idea of a family—parents, even—waiting forever for some news of her dad nagged at her.

  Since Cassie had recently found out that their father had changed his name when he’d left home, it sounded like he had wanted to cut all ties with his past. Did that mean his family too? But had they wanted to cut ties with him? Even if they had, they deserved to know he had died. And that he had a family.

  “I was thinking of trying to find out if there are still relatives of his around,” Sam said.

  “I think that’s great,” Cassie replied. “Have you told Dad or Fiona?”

  “Nope. Just you.”

  “How will you start?”

  “Maybe with copies of the information Jack got for you about where our father was from.”

  “Sure. And Fiona’s got a copy of the accident report from when Mom and Dad were killed.”

  “I’ll ask her for it when she gets back.” Sam picked up another silk rose and began entwining them again. Maybe she wouldn’t tell Dad just yet. After all, she might not find anything and he would be hurt for no reason.

  “So, how are things with you and your banker?” Cassie asked.

  “Fine.”

  “You bringing him to the wedding?”

  “Yes.”

  “To keep Larry from fixing you up with somebody?”

  Sam paused like a diver about to plunge off the high board. “Nope,” she admitted carefully. “Because I wanted to bring him.”

  Larry had nothing to do with her invitation, Sam realized. She’d asked Kevin simply because she wanted to share the event with him.

  “Sounds serious,” Cassie teased.

  Sam just twisted some more flowers together.

  “Why don’t you let me go up?” Kevin asked as Sam scampered up the stepladder, curtains draped over one arm. “I’m taller.”

  “Isn’t that the whole purpose of ladders?” she teased. “To sort of even out the height advantage?”

  “I wouldn’t have to climb as high.”

  “I’m not afraid of heights.”

  “Were you always this stubborn?”

  She glared down at him. “How often have you hung. drapes?”

  “I see. This is guy discrimination.”

  “No, it’s drape-hanging discrimination,” she said as she slipped the hooks into the carrier slides. “I’ve hung enough drapes to block out the sun from the Northern Hemisphere. I could do it in my sleep.”

  “If you’re sleepy, climbing ladders is dangerous.”

  She slipped the
last hooks into the master slide and leaned back against the top of the ladder, not even bothering to answer him. He’d been dropping by after work every few days, and spending the evening with her. It was fine with her. She liked having him around.

  “Want to try closing the drapes?” she asked.

  He went to the other end of the rod and pulled the cord. The drapes closed neatly, fitting just right. “Okay, you can open them again.”

  When she climbed down the ladder, he was there to steady it for her.

  “You know, I was up and down this ladder all day without once tipping it over,” she said.

  “Then you’re lucky I’m here,” he told her. “The law of averages says you’re due.”

  She just groaned. “I guess I should be grateful to you for saving my life, then.”

  “You should be,” he said and moved a step closer. “The question is, just how grateful are you?”

  She grinned. “Grateful enough to let you carry the ladder back downstairs?”

  He shook his head. “Not good enough.”

  “How about letting you pick which window we do first in the dining room?”

  “You don’t have the hang of this being-grateful business, do you?”

  “I take it you have a suggestion?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.” He slid his arms around her and pulled her close. His lips came down on hers, and it was the sweetest kiss she’d ever had, full of laughter and lightness and the smiles in their hearts. It was like sunshine in the garden with the birds singing and the fragrance of the flowers dancing in the air. It was like being on top of the Ferris wheel with all the world at your feet.

  But then the pressure of his lips changed. The wild beating of her heart made her breath catch and made all sorts of sparks go off in the pit of her stomach. Kevin’s hands pulled her closer, pressing her up against his hard, muscled body.

  She could feel his hunger in his lips and in his restless hands. She could feel her own needs eating away at her common sense until all she knew was the wonder of him next to her. The thin fabric of her blouse must have melted away from the heat of his touch. The fire was spreading, working its way over—