Authors: Donna Alward
N
OAH DISAPPEARED BACK INTO
the dressing room to change again. He spent a frustrating few minutes putting the pin back in his sleeve, cursing under his breath as the pin sprung open and dropped to the carpeted floor. He didn’t have to do it himself. He could have asked Lily and she would have performed the task in an instant.
But she’d done enough for one day.
When he stepped out of the change room, he was completely buttoned and snapped. Lily rose from the bench and came to him, her lips curved up in a reassuring smile. He’d felt so helpless, so…impotent…when he’d needed her help with the shoes. It was demoralizing when you were trying to impress a woman. And he was trying to impress her, he realized. He wasn’t sure how or why her opinion had started to matter, but it did.
“If I could just get you to sign here, sir, and pay for the deposit,” came the clerk’s voice from behind them. He was still holding the clipboard.
Noah reluctantly broke eye contact with Lily and followed the clerk to the reception area where he dug out a credit card for the rental deposit. He’d probably been too harsh earlier, speaking to the salesman. But he wasn’t used
to the stares yet, or the way someone’s eyes automatically darted to his empty sleeve first and then to his face. He wasn’t used to looking completely inept in public, either, or losing his cool.
And he wasn’t used to the way Lily had looked at him, and touched him. The gentleness of her fingers, the way the feel of them against him made him feel more of a man than he had in many weeks. Which was foolish. She didn’t want him. They were merely thrown together. The last thing she’d want was a man with his scars. The touch on his stump today was as close as she was going to get to seeing his wounds. He didn’t want the ugliness of war to touch her the way it had him.
And yet he found himself telling her things he couldn’t bring himself to say to Andrew, or even to his army buddies when he one-finger typed e-mails to them.
He took the pen in his left hand and painstakingly signed his name to the document and credit card slip. He scowled at the uneven letters that looked the equivalent of a child’s scrawl. Learning to write with his opposite hand was yet another one of his challenges.
The clerk stared at the card and then the signature and paused. Noah stiffened, but was determined to hang on to his temper. He knew the clerk was only doing his job, comparing signatures. “I used to be right-handed. I’m having to relearn to write with my opposite hand.”
The clerk flushed deeply. “I’m sorry…I mean…I didn’t realize. I’m required to match the signatures….”
Lily put her hand on Noah’s arm. The gesture was reassuring and he exhaled. He couldn’t fault the man for sticking to his orders, even if it was an inconvenience to him. “It’s okay. I know you’re just following procedure.”
Lily spoke up, squeezing Noah’s wrist. “If you like, I’ll give you my credit card number.”
“No, this will be fine,” the clerk assured them. He lifted his chin. “There won’t be a problem, sir.”
Noah pocketed his wallet again and they left. Once they got into her car, he let out a gigantic sigh.
“I’m so sorry, Noah. For all of it.”
“This is why I hate going out. I spent my entire day either being stared at or poked. I should be able to sign my own damn name! A five-year-old could do better.”
“Give it time. I’m sure the occupational therapy will help.”
Noah let out a bitter laugh. “Do I strike you as a patient man, Lily?”
“Not particularly.”
He turned his head to look at her. Lily put the car in gear and headed out toward Highway 22. “Do you want to stop for dinner on the way back? We haven’t really eaten all day.”
“If I have to see one more person today…”
Lily spluttered out a laugh. The aggravated tone reminded her of the old
Honeymooners
reruns her Gram had watched on the television. But she understood his need for quiet. She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to spend any more of his day in public. She suddenly wondered if part of his reluctance to be in the wedding had to do with feeling on display. She certainly felt that way, and she had nothing as gossipworthy as a war injury to contend with.
“Fair enough. No restaurant then.” But it was going to be early evening before they got back. She couldn’t just drop him home. The only thing they’d had during the day was a coffee at a drive-through.
“Why don’t you let me cook you dinner?”
They were stopped at a light and she looked over. His jaw was so firm, so defiant. He needed to relax, needed a night away from Lazy L and doctors and reminders.
“At my house. You haven’t seen my house yet. I have lots
of groceries and a bottle of wine I’ve been saving for when I had company.”
He raised an eyebrow and her lips twitched. “Sue me,” she said carelessly. “I don’t usually sip alone.”
“That actually sounds good.”
“Then it’s a date.”
At Noah’s shocked expression she backpedaled. “Well, obviously not a real date…”
Silence fell in the vehicle once more as the light changed. As they accelerated down the highway, Lily wondered how much deeper she was going to let herself get in before she started bailing out.
Noah’s first reaction to Lily’s house was surprise. She unlocked the front door to the stuccoed duplex and they stepped inside. It smelled of vanilla and something lightly floral. The small foyer was painted a warm, welcoming yellow. As he followed her past the stairs and to the kitchen, he was surprised at her color choices. The same yellow was repeated on the walls there, with splashes of chocolate and terra-cotta lending a cozy feel. The colors were repeated on pottery canisters, and a tall potted orange tree sat in a corner by a south window. He smiled. If the landscape was slightly different, he’d almost feel he was in a hacienda rather than a duplex in suburbia.
“Make yourself at home,” she said, putting down her purse.
To the right was a living room, and the colors there picked up the red tones. Caramel furniture and cherry wood floors mellowed the deep shade of the walls. He wandered to the doorway and stared at a painting on the wall. It was a cacophony of flowers in yellows, reds, purples, so vivid the blossoms almost seemed to jump out at him.
“Is there something wrong?”
He turned around, looking at Lily standing in jeans and a plain pale blue T-shirt, holding a bottle of wine in her hands. “It’s just that this wasn’t what I pictured your place to be like.”
He’d come to somewhat accept her help. Dinner for two at her house wasn’t really in the plans. But the thought of going out somewhere to be gawked at again had been unbearable. It had seemed like a good solution at the time.
Right up until the moment she’d made a point of insisting it wasn’t a date. As if he needed a reminder. He was starting to realize she was a dynamic, competent woman. And today he’d demonstrated how he could neither tie his shoes nor write his name. Not exactly date material.
“What did you expect?” She went to work on the cork, and he saw the way her shoulders curved as she manipulated the corkscrew. Her dark hair lay over one shoulder and he had a momentary urge to go over and push it aside, so that it cascaded down her back. But after this afternoon, that was a very bad idea. He took a step backward and put his hand in his pocket.
“I expected lighter colors. Pinks and blues, maybe.”
“I like earth tones,” she responded, finally getting the cork out and retrieving two glasses. “They make me feel warm and comfortable and content.”
“It’s a very nice house.”
“It’s not very big, but there’s just me.”
And now tonight he was there. He wondered how much socializing Lily did and if she had teacher friends. If she entertained, if she dated. He accepted a glass of wine, murmuring his thanks and taking a small sip. It occurred to him that while she had been given a crash course in Noah Laramie, he knew next to nothing about her.
It also occurred to him that he wanted to know more. Maybe it was his military background, but he liked to get a
complete picture about who he was dealing with. It made for a more level playing field. Lily knew far more about him than he was comfortable with, while she was surrounded by secrets. Surely he could find something to fault. It would make it easier not to like her quite so much.
He walked to the door that opened to the small back deck. “What brought you to Larch Valley in the first place?”
Lily took a bag of tomatoes out of the fridge and lined them up on a cutting board. “Work. I had my degree but no job. LVHS was looking and I applied. It’s a lot easier to find a job out of province.”
“But so far from home…you’re from back East, right?”
Her knife paused for a moment. He wondered why the slight hesitation and watched as the blade moved again, finely chopping the red flesh of the tomato. “Yes. Ontario.”
“What about your family?”
The knife rested on the cutting board then as Lily looked up. “Is this the interrogation equivalent of
get to know you better?
”
He grinned then, knowing he’d inadvertently struck a nerve. He’d gotten the impression that Lily had few faults beyond her stubborn nature. But there was something here. And it felt wonderful to turn the spotlight on someone else for a change. He got tired of being the focus of scrutiny.
“Sorry. Occupational hazard. I was feeling a little at a disadvantage. Not really fair for you to see all my dirty laundry now, is it.”
A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “I suppose not. But my life really isn’t very interesting.”
He left the view from the door behind and went to stand near her at the center island, watching as she heated olive oil and garlic in a pan and added the tomatoes. “No one grew up in a bubble,” he said simply. “Fess up.”
She sighed, stirring the mixture with a wooden spoon. “My
mom still lives in Toronto. There was only ever the two of us, at least after my Gram died when I was small.”
“Does she visit here a lot?”
A dry laugh greeted his question. “No, she’s never been here. We sort of keep our lives…separate.”
Lily focused on the bubbling tomatoes rather than on Noah. Wasn’t he just full of inquiries today. Innocent questions, too. Only they weren’t that innocent at all. The last thing she wanted to do was get into the complicated relationship she had with her mother. Or why they didn’t see eye to eye on almost anything. They’d stopped talking mostly, just to avoid arguing.
Noah put his hand over hers on the spoon. “I haven’t seen my mom since I was seven.”
His fingers were warm and slightly rough and felt good on the smooth skin just behind her wrist. “I know.” She thought of the young boy he must have been, left with his father and a baby brother. At least Lily had grown up with a mother, for all her faults.
Still, she appreciated the confidence, and the fact that he’d shared a tiny bit of information about his childhood. His hand slid off her wrist and she avoided his eyes, instead reaching for a bunch of fresh basil and chopping it for the sauce.
“I’m sorry about your dad, too.” She scraped the basil into the sauce and put the cutting board down on the counter. “I know you didn’t make it home for the funeral.”
Noah’s face twisted and she felt guilty for causing him more pain. “Oh, Noah, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would make you feel worse.”
Noah shook his head. “In some ways I’m just glad he doesn’t have to see me like this.”
“Noah!” Dismayed, she forgot her earlier promise to keep the evening nontactile, and she reached out, gripping his
forearm in her fingers. “Surely you don’t think he would care about your injury. That it would make a difference.”
His gaze met hers. “I don’t know. He always seemed so proud that I was a soldier. Said that if I wouldn’t be a rancher, this was the next best thing. Somehow I can’t escape the feeling that I failed him. It made going to his grave pretty difficult.”
“But you did go.”
He nodded. “Andrew drove me when I first got back. It was my duty to go. Andrew’s made his peace. I don’t think I have yet.”
“A parent loves their child, no matter what the disappointments. And I can’t imagine your father was disappointed in you. He must have been very proud.” She squeezed his arm and smiled.
And yet she knew there was a false note to her words. Jasmine had never accepted Lily’s version of life. She’d accused her of limiting her options. While the words had never been said, Lily knew her mother was disappointed in her choices.
“That was a very nice diversion, Lily, but we were talking about you.” Noah slid his arm out from beneath her touch and grabbed the wooden spoon, taking a turn at stirring the sauce. “So a job brought you to the Larch. What made you stay?”
“I’ve made my home here,” she said finally. “I love Larch Valley, I love my job, and I’ve made friends. What more could I ask for?” She stopped short of saying it was the kind of home she’d always wanted. There was stability and order and a routine that was comforting. She’d never liked living life on a whim. She liked going to the grocery store and knowing the cashier by name. She enjoyed seeing the neighborhood kids grow and change. And knowing she had people like Jen and Andrew and the Hamiltons as a surrogate family was a blessing.
“It’s a good place to call home,” he agreed.
Lily watched him wander through her kitchen and bit down on her lip. It was silly that she should be feeling drawn to him in any way. Their lives were drastically different. But the things that made up Noah were hard to resist, and each time she saw him face a new challenge she felt connected to him a little more. He was strong and brave and a little bit angry. And his motives seemed to have very little to do with her, which was a refreshing development. It was clear he wasn’t interested in her romantically. The look on his face when she’d said the word
date
had spoken volumes. She’d had to hastily backtrack before he started thinking she did have a thing for him.
Lily shook her head slightly. She should be relieved. After all, if he wasn’t interested in her, then it was only herself she had to worry about.