A Place for Family

Finally, she found the right combination of settings, and water flowed into the tub. She whooped in triumph, then halted mid-celebration. Had she already added the soap? She vaguely recalled hearing a receptionist at her old office complain about using too much detergent in her fancy new washing machine and having to pay a technician to clean it out.

Sighing in frustration, Amanda waited impatiently, tapping her foot until bubbles appeared in the water. It wasn’t graceful or easy, but she managed to get a couple of loads done and dried that evening. The prize was that she’d be able to wear her own clothes tomorrow.

It was almost dark when John and Ridge came through the kitchen door, covered in dust and sweat. Without a single word, John headed straight into the downstairs bathroom.

“Don’t mind him,” Ridge advised wearily. “He’s mad ’cause he had to walk in from that farthest back field when his tractor quit again. How’s it going in here?” He nodded at the piles of laundry spread across the counter.

She’d never admit how much trouble the simple task had caused her, so she smiled. “Oh, fine. I’m just trying to keep everyone’s clothes straight.”

“There’s a lot to do,” he commented with a frown. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” After all, the more work there was, the more they needed her. “Is Matt with you guys?”

“No, he went home a couple hours ago to take over baby duty. Hailey’s been pretty fussy lately, and he wanted to give Caty a break.”

“Pretty soon, that’ll be you. Two babies will keep you and Marianne pretty busy.”

“You got that right. Could I talk to you about something?” He motioned her to a seat at the table.

Nothing good had ever happened to her after an intro like that, but Amanda tamped down her anxiety and tried to look calm as they sat down. “Sure.”

Folding his hands on the table, he gave her a wry grin. “That didn’t come out well, did it?”

“That depends,” she hedged. “What did you mean to say?”

“Marianne and the kids think you’re perfect for us. Even Tucker, from what I hear. I’m pretty easy to please, but I want to be absolutely clear about something.” Amanda prompted him to continue, and he glanced over his shoulder before leaning in to speak more quietly. “I don’t want Marianne left alone, not even for a few minutes. She’ll insist she can manage on her own for a little while. She might even pull rank on you and make it an order.”

“She doesn’t like being laid up like this,” Amanda added to show she understood. “Besides that, she’s used to being in charge.”

“Exactly. Plus, she thinks of you like another little sister, and I’m assuming you feel the same way. If she thinks she can do the mom thing on you, she will.”

Amanda leaned in with a determined look. “She can try all she wants, but it won’t work with me. I’ve been swimming with sharks for years, and she’s got nothing on them.”

Sitting back, Ridge studied her with a thoughtful expression. Even though she knew it was stupid, she actually held her breath, wondering what kind of decision he’d reach.

When he offered her a large, scarred hand, her pulse kicked up eagerly. She waited a beat before responding. “You’re already convinced you want me to stay?”

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Absolutely. Fudging only leads to trouble, and I’m not looking for any more of that.”

“Good to know.” Shaking her hand, he stood and said, “Now I’m gonna go enjoy a little Disney time with my family. Good night.”

“Night, Ridge.”

She watched him stroll into the living room where Marianne and the kids were lounging on the bed, watching some hilarious cartoon. That such an obviously masculine guy could enjoy a children’s show surprised Amanda, and she couldn’t help smiling. Listening to them talking and laughing gave her a warm, cozy feeling, and she silently thanked the Collinses for offering her a lifeline when she needed one so badly.

That thought led her to John and his frosty attitude toward her. Would he ever forgive her for ignoring him all these years? She hoped so. The past few months, her so-called friends had deserted her, one by one. None had turned out to be who she thought they were, and she’d reluctantly come to realize she was better off without them.

John was an entirely different story, though. He was the same strong, solid guy she remembered, and more. Regaining his respect would be a huge step in the direction she wanted her life to go.

When the bathroom door opened and he came out, she adopted a friendly expression. “Hungry?”

“Not really.” Moving to the pocket doors, he eased them closed and swiveled to face her. “We should get your car off the road.”

Amanda frowned. “Wouldn’t it be easier to do it in the daylight?”

“Yeah, but if someone notices it and calls Marianne, she’ll freak about your driving all this way from California in a car that pretty much exploded.”

“I see your point.” When she grabbed her keys, he laughed. “What’s so funny?”

“I ain’t gonna drive it. I’ll tow it in with a tractor while you steer and put on the brakes when I tell you to.”

His condescending tone grated on her already fragile nerves. It made her think of the way he’d handled Ginger the Airhead, and she didn’t appreciate it at all. Amanda had to tilt her head back to look him squarely in the eyes, but she glared up at him for all she was worth. “I’m not an idiot. You don’t have to talk to me like I’m still four.”

“Y’know,” he muttered with a glare of his own, “we just might be mature enough for kindergarten.”

“I am,” she assured him airily, buffing her ragged fingernails on her T-shirt. “I’m not sure about you, though.”

Grimacing, he dragged his fingers through his damp hair and gave her a long, exasperated look. “You still get to me, Gardner. I just wish I knew why.”

Amanda’s heart leapt at the thought that, despite her nagging fears, she might be able to mend her relationship with John. In Hollywood, she’d learned to strictly control her true feelings because being naive could easily derail the career she’d fought so hard to build. But tonight, standing in this homey kitchen with him, she eased up on those reins.

“You still get to me, too, Sawyer.” Since that didn’t seem like enough, she added a warm smile. “Now let’s go get my car out of sight before it causes you any trouble.”

John opened the screen door and followed her outside. Slipping his hands into his back pockets, he said, “If we’re gonna be around each other all the time, we have to figure out a way to get along.”

“I’ll be nice if you will.”

Slanting a look over at her, he flashed a crooked grin. “Deal.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Inside the barn, he climbed onto a tractor and shifted to the far side of the seat. When she gave him a quizzical look, he said, “It’s a ways out there. You riding or walking?”

“Oh, right.” She pulled herself up, prepared to sit next to him the way she had when they were younger. She’d always loved riding around with him, bouncing over the plowed rows, laughing and not worrying about anything but holding on tightly to him.

Tonight, though, the seat looked way too small for the two of them to share. To keep things respectable, she perched on the metal step and grabbed on to an upright support with both hands. “Ready.”

Chuckling, he shook his head but didn’t say anything about her being ridiculous. He started the engine, fiddling with the throttle until the motor settled into a steady rumble. He took a straight course over the fields, and the first bump made Amanda yelp in surprise. He must have heard her, but instead of slowing down, he went faster.

Typical John, she thought, rolling her eyes. When they reached her car, he dialed the tractor down to idle, and the sound died enough for conversation.

“Thanks for going so slow,” she teased as they both jumped down.

Sending her a mischievous grin, he lifted a chain from the equipment box mounted behind his seat. He slid under the back of her car, and she heard clanking as he wrapped the chain around the axle. More clanking, then a muffled, “What’s it like?”

At first, she didn’t know what he meant. After a few dense seconds, she caught on. “You mean L.A.?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s gorgeous, and there’s always tons of stuff going on, so it’s really exciting to live there. Malibu is breathtaking, looking out over the ocean like that.”

Sliding free, he stood and brushed off his jeans. “I’ve seen it on TV,” he said as he tightened some kind of holder through two of the chain’s links. “Real nice. Is that where you live?”

“Lived,” she corrected him wistfully. “In an adorable beach house a stone’s throw from the water. Until I lost my job and couldn’t pay the rent. Landlords don’t like that.”

Leaning back against her car, John frowned. “I don’t get it. There must be other PR and advertising firms you could have worked for. Why didn’t you stay there and get another job?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

John had echoed the question she’d asked herself hundreds of times while her meticulously plotted life had unraveled around her. That he was standing here with her in the near-darkness, helping with her wrecked car, was the final straw.

After keeping it together for weeks, Amanda burst into tears.

Chapter Three

Even Superman had his weakness, John reasoned as he instinctively took Amanda in his arms. For him, it was a woman’s tears. They always reduced him to a helpless state, where he could think of only one thing: make them stop.

“It’s okay, Panda,” he soothed as she burrowed into his chest. “You’re home now. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

He’d used her old nickname hoping to make her feel better, but it only made her cry harder. She was trying to say something, but between the sniffling and the sobbing, he couldn’t make out a single word. So he stood there like a moron, just holding her, praying she’d blow herself out and calm down enough to tell him what was so wrong.

After a few agonizing minutes, she got herself together, pulling away with a final sniff. When she moved to wipe her cheeks with hands grimy from the tractor, he caught them in his. His intent was to keep her from getting grease all over her face, but the result of his impulsive move hit him like a sucker punch.

Damp cheeks glistening in the sunset, she gazed up at him with a look that was a heart-stopping mix of sorrow and gratitude. She brought to mind a stray kitten who wanted nothing more than to be picked up and cuddled. It would have been so easy to lean in and kiss her, and John came dangerously close to doing just that.

Startled, he stepped back to put some space between them. His arms felt empty without her, but he firmly shoved the impression away and focused on keeping his distance. And his good-guy status.

“Sorry about that,” she murmured. “I know you hate it when girls cry.”

“Most guys do, ’cause we don’t know how to make you stop.”

With a wan smile, she patted his arm. “You did just fine, but if I don’t get that laundry into the drier, no one will have any clean towels tomorrow. We should get this car tucked away.”

“Soon as you tell me what set you off, we’ll go.”

When she hesitated, he folded his arms and waited.

“John, I’m exhausted. Could we please put off the third degree until morning?”

“You’ll tell me everything? No more secrets?”

“Yes.” He cocked his head, and she sighed. “Promise.”

“Okay, then.”

She hadn’t noticed his bizarre reaction to her, John thought while he opened the driver’s door and closed it behind her. As he swung onto the tractor and increased the throttle, he counted himself fortunate to escape with his male dignity intact.

No doubt about it, he still had a very soft spot for Amanda Gardner. He’d have to watch his step.

* * *

John came through the door around six the next morning, drawn by the prospect of breakfast. The sun peeking over the hills was all he needed to get him in gear, but he knew Matt, Ridge and their farmhands would appreciate the coffee already brewing. The stainless-steel, commercial-grade coffeemaker was steaming away, filling one pot on the bottom while another waited on top.

Then he realized something was wrong. The smell wasn’t as strong as usual. When he noticed the pot was filled with mostly water, he got up to remedy the problem.

As he was pulling the container from the cupboard, he heard, “What are you doing?”

Without turning, he pressed the pause button and started scooping grounds into the empty filters. “Adding coffee to your coffee.”

Amanda muttered something very unladylike. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Sorry.”

When he turned to face her, he felt his jaw start to drop and had to remind himself to keep his mouth closed. She’d obviously washed her own clothes last night.

Dressed in faded jeans and a pink tank, she looked like she was ready for a picnic, not a day of housework. Her damp, curly hair was pulled up into a bouncy ponytail, a few stray pieces framing those incredible eyes. The war paint was gone, and her face had that fresh-as-a-daisy quality he’d missed yesterday.

He’d known his fair share of blonde, blue-eyed women, preferred them actually. But none of them had ever matched the one standing only a few feet away. He’d thought his imagination had idealized her over the years, making her seem more beautiful than she’d actually been. Seeing her now proved that he’d remembered every detail of her perfectly.

Amanda was watching him, holding the kids’ lunch boxes in her hands. She didn’t look scared, but she didn’t look confident, either. John knew how she felt. Considering their spontaneous embrace last night, he was beginning to have serious doubts about her staying at the farm.

Seeing her this way wasn’t helping any.

“Thanks for the help. I guess I’m not quite awake,” she confided with a dainty yawn.

“No problem.” Backing away to cover his discomfort, he nodded at the coffeemaker. “Some of that will help.”

“Oh, I don’t drink it anymore.”

John couldn’t believe his ears. In high school, she’d been a total caffeine hound. “Since when?”

“It’s been a while now.” She cast a longing look at the filling pot, then turned away to get some plates out of the cupboard. “Waffles are warming in the oven, and there’s fresh strawberries. Would you like some?”

John felt odd having her wait on him as if he was at a restaurant instead of in his sister’s kitchen. “Sure, but I’ll get ’em. You’ve got enough to do getting the kids ready for school.”

“Okay.”

While she pulled lunch supplies out of the cupboard, he heaped a plate with waffles. “This is kinda weird, huh? Your working here, I mean,” he added to be clear. He didn’t want her thinking he was up all night wondering what had brought her here. He hadn’t thought about it. Much.

Shrugging, she started spreading peanut butter onto sandwiches. “A little.”

“Well, don’t feel like you have to wait on us or anything,” he advised as he sat down. “We all know where everything is.”

Glancing over, she narrowed her eyes. “Meaning I don’t?”

Sensing he’d unintentionally touched a nerve, John sat back, hands in the air. “Meaning nothing. We’re just not the type of folks who have a housekeeper is all.”

“And I am, is that it?”

“Well, aren’t you?” Sensing they were headed for an argument they’d both regret, he tried to defuse it with a grin. “I mean, you can’t even make coffee.”

She didn’t even try to zing him back, and started hunting through the cupboards for something. He could have asked what she wanted, but after the slap down he’d gotten, he wasn’t inclined to be helpful just now.

Touchy, John thought as he pawed through the newspaper for the sports section. When he glanced over and caught her observing him, her disapproving frown told him she didn’t like the way he’d fanned the paper out across the table. Well, too bad. He’d done that every morning of his life since his father had taught him how to read the baseball box scores. He wasn’t about to change just because some uptight California girl didn’t like a mess.

As she reached into the fridge for drink boxes, she said, “I’m sorry for jumping down your throat.”

“It’s okay. You’ll feel better once you get the hang of things.”

“I thought my PR job was tough,” she confessed while she plucked grapes and dropped them into small plastic containers. “But I only had to worry about my clients and myself, and I had plenty of help. Keeping a family going is a thousand times harder. I don’t know how Marianne does it.”

“Experience,” John replied. “Don’t forget, she got a lot of practice with me.”

Amanda laughed, and in view of the rocky start their morning had gotten off to, John considered that a major improvement.

“Those pocket doors between the kitchen and living room are really nice,” she went on in a much more pleasant tone. “When did you add those?”

“The slots have always been there, but the doors were in the attic. Matt and I put them up last weekend to give Marianne and Ridge some privacy. They’re solid oak, so they keep out a lot of noise, too. Lets Marianne rest when she needs it.”

Dropping the drinks and grapes into each bag, Amanda glanced over at him. “You’re really worried about her, aren’t you?”

John never mentioned it, since he was supposed to be the optimist in the family. But her sympathetic tone made him nod. “We all are. Twins are tough for anyone, and she’s not twenty anymore. Just don’t tell her I said that.”

Smiling, Amanda gave him a broad wink. “I’m great at keeping secrets.”

She sure was. It was driving him nuts, wondering what was going on. Before his good sense could talk him out of bringing it up, he said, “Speaking of secrets, you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I drove out here from California and my car broke down,” she answered while she filled the waffle iron with batter.

Cocking his head, he scowled. “And?”

Sighing, she closed the griddle and flashed him a hesitant look. “My parents know, but I’m not sure you want to hear it.”

Folding his hands on the table, he gave her his full attention. “Try me.”

She wet a dishcloth and started cleaning the counter. John knew perfectly well she was trying to avoid looking at him, but he let it go.

“About a year ago,” she began, “this new executive joined our firm. Over drinks one night, he said he was divorced and interested in dating me. We were together about six months before Ted finally told me he was still technically married.”

“Ted who?”

Shaking her head, she gave him an I-know-what-you’re-doing smile.

“Don’t want me going after him, huh?” John asked.

“Bingo.”

“Answer me one thing. How can someone be ‘technically’ married?”

“His words, not mine,” she explained. “Anyway, when I found out, I broke things off. But we were quite an item, so everybody knew about us, and most of them knew he was married. The whole thing was humiliating. As if that wasn’t enough, one Monday we got to the office and the doors were locked. They were glass, and we could see the whole place was empty.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Totally serious,” she responded with a sour expression. “We discovered the company was bankrupt, and the owners had sold off everything that wasn’t nailed down.”

“Just like that? Don’t they have to give you notice or something?”

“Well, they didn’t.”

Bad as all this sounded, her brittle tone alerted John that he hadn’t heard the worst of it. “Something else happened to send you running back here. What was it?”

Another sigh, this one so deep it made his chest ache. “My accountant had some financial problems of his own, and his solution was to borrow—” she added air quotes “—the money from me. The trouble was, he couldn’t pay it back. Long story short, I’m beyond broke. I auctioned off everything I could, but it wasn’t enough to pay off the debts I didn’t know had been piling up over the last two years.”

“That’s stealing,” John pointed out. “Shouldn’t they have put him behind bars or something?”

Anger flared in her eyes, giving them more life than he’d seen the whole time she’d been back. “Trust me, if we could have found him, he’d be in jail.” As quickly as it had spiked, the spirit ebbed away. “The closest we got was hearing he might have gone to Brazil. The problem is, tracking someone down costs money, and I didn’t have any.”

“That explains why you’re driving that car.” Hoping to lighten the mood, he copied her by air-quoting the final word. His attempt earned him a wan smile, but it was better than nothing.

“After a lot of thought, I decided that I’d made every mistake a person possibly could, and I needed a complete change of scenery. Lifestyle-wise and geographically, Harland was as far from L.A. as I could get.” Now, she pinned him with a begging look. “Don’t tell Marianne and Ridge. They’ll think I’m a brainless idiot, and I really need this job. I had to declare bankruptcy, so I’ve got nothing but the clothes in my duffel bag.”

Being a farmer, John was well acquainted with the concept of bankruptcy. While the Sawyers had escaped it themselves, many of their neighbors hadn’t been so fortunate. That Amanda had been forced to endure that harsh penalty through no fault of her own made him want to help her get back on her feet.

But he was a simple, straightforward guy. By his own example, Ethan had taught all of them that honesty wasn’t just the best way, it was the only way. John had taken his father’s lesson to heart as a child, and it was the compass that kept his life on its normally smooth, easygoing path.

Amanda’s situation presented him with a difficult choice. Either respect her wishes and keep his family in the dark, or tell them the truth and let Marianne make her own judgment.

Or he could convince Amanda to tell them herself. Not only would it force everything out in the open, it would enable her to dust herself off and make plans for her future. Of course, with the very headstrong Amanda Gardner, that was easier said than done.

His silence must have started to worry her. “Please, John? It’s been a long time since something went right for me.”

Hoping to appear unconcerned, he grinned. “I can have blueberry pancakes whenever I want?”

“Absolutely,” she breathed with a grateful smile.

“Then it’s a deal.”

He still had his misgivings, but after all she’d been through, knowing he could make her smile made him feel incredible.

* * *

The shifting emotions on John’s face had been simple enough for Amanda to read. Wariness when he saw her in the kitchen that morning. Concern for his sister and her babies. Then something darker that had no place shadowing his wide-open features.

John was as different from the other men she’d known as the sun was from the moon. Over the years, she’d thought about her rugged country boy many times, wondering what he was doing, if he was happy. Now he was right in front of her, and she could see for herself how much he enjoyed his sweet, simple life.

Get up at the crack of dawn, have breakfast with your family, work hard all day, play with the kids and the dog, go to sleep, repeat. Oh, and save the occasional damsel in distress. All of that flitted through her head in a heartbeat, and she realized she’d forgotten to do something very important yesterday.

“John?” When his eyes met hers, she gulped down her pride and rushed on. “I want to thank you for all your help. You’ve been really great.”

“You’re welcome.”

For a fleeting moment, the twinkle she recalled so fondly lit his eyes. She was asking a lot, but she knew she could count on him to keep her secret. Then the suspicious look returned. “There’s something else. What is it?”

Her heart thudded to a stop, and she berated herself for assuming she was in the clear. Perceptive as he was, she should have known better. Luckily for her, the kids chose that precise moment to come rushing downstairs for breakfast. They could work in showbiz, she thought with a grin. They had impeccable timing.