Husband In Harmony

“I get by,” he told her. And that was all he said before he started for his car.

Jane shrugged. Whether he could cook was hardly her concern. “I’d be glad to give you a hand getting settled in,” she offered, as she would to any guest.

Adam kept on moving. “Okay,” he said, tossing the word over his shoulder. At the moment, he had to admit he was far from sure how he felt about Glory Ridge’s owner. He knew she was amused by the fact that surroundings so familiar to her were strange to him—just as she had been on the day they’d met. But he also knew that she’d attempted to make his son welcome, so he supposed he’d try not to let her amusement annoy him.

Besides, he thought with satisfaction, once they got down to business, his considerable experience in dealing with a world mostly foreign to her would display his talents. Even if he couldn’t pull off a miracle with Glory Ridge, he’d at least show her a thing or two.

Adam opened the hatchback trunk and pulled out two suitcases, plus twin canvas backpacks, the store tags still on. He handed the backpacks to Sam, then pushed aside two paper shopping bags filled with food and hefted a large cooler into his arms. “If you’ll take the grocery bags,” he told Jane, “I’ll come back for the suitcases.”

“I can take the suitcases,” she told him.

“They’re heavy,” he said. “Leave them for me to handle.”

She planted her hands on slender hips once again covered by battered blue denim and met his gaze. “I can handle them, trust me. I’m stronger—a lot stronger—than I look.”

“Well, nature usually favoring the male of the species,” he said with undeniable relish, “I’m even stronger than you are, so leave the suitcases for me.” With that, he stared her down until she retrieved the grocery bags and started up the gravel path to the cabins, Sam following a step behind.

Feeling better at having won that last round, Adam brought up the rear. Even his new boots felt better, he acknowledged with the beginnings of a smile. But that faint smile disappeared as he approached the cabin and got another look at the place where he and his son would be sleeping, bathing and eating.

Although he hadn’t gone into details earlier, he did know how to cook. In fact, since his divorce and return to single status, he’d become a man who could hold his own in the kitchen. Trouble was, none of his specialties—acclaimed by his occasional dinner guests—seemed to tempt the taste buds of a growing boy, so he and Sam usually went out to eat or brought something in.

Not that he was feeling guilty about his failure to produce homemade meals to meet his son’s tastes. Sam probably didn’t get much homemade fare back in Boston, either. Ariel had certainly never been keen on doing much cooking.

Adam blew out a breath. No, he wouldn’t feel guilty. He just wished they stood a chance of getting a pizza delivered out here every now and then—and knew they didn’t.

“Why is that old sign nailed over the door?” Sam asked.

“Because Squirrel Hollow is the name of this cabin,” Jane explained. “It’s been called that from the day it was first built.”

Sam conducted a short study and shook his head sadly. “That must’ve been a long time ago.”

“Yes,” she acknowledged mildly. “Want to get the screen door? Your father and I sort of have our hands full.”

Silent now, Sam slowly climbed the steps, as though headed toward a harsh fate. He held the screen door ajar, then stood back as Adam and Jane entered.

“I left the other door and the windows open to air the place out,” she said.

Adam could hardly argue the wisdom of that plan, or that the breeze drifting through the place felt good, especially after leaving the hot desert regions to the south. “You can put the backpacks on one of the chairs by the fireplace,” he said to Sam. Then he strode to the kitchen area adjoining the living room and set the cooler on the tiled counter.

“I can start unloading the groceries if you want to show Sam the rest of the place,” Jane suggested.

“All right.” Adam brushed his palms on his Levi’s. “Let’s check it out,” he told his son, and walked beside the boy toward the back of the cabin.

“This is where I’ll be sleeping,” he said as they poked their heads into the bigger of the two bedrooms. There a sturdy pine bed and small nightstand shared space with a mirror-topped dresser, also made of rough-hewn pine, that stood midway between a single bare window and a narrow closet.

“And this will be your room,” he added moments later as they inspected the second bedroom, slightly smaller than the first. It, too, had a pine dresser, and a bunk bed with a short ladder propped against it to reach the upper bunk.

“You get to decide whether to sleep on the top or bottom.” Once again Adam tried for an enthusiastic tone, but his effort fell flat, met by a strained silence.

Finally, Sam walked in, dragging his feet every step of the way, and tossed his camera on the plaid wool blanket covering the lower bunk. “I’ll take this one, I guess.”

“Good.” Adam felt a stab of sympathy, but steeled himself against giving in to it. He wasn’t any fonder of his sleeping accommodations, but he and Sam would get through this, he assured himself, and with any luck at all become closer in the process.

God, he had to hope that would happen.

“I know it’s not what you’re used to,” he went on with determination, “but this cabin could be considered a part of the history of this area. You might want to take some pictures of the place later.”

The swift roll of Sam’s eyes said, You’ve got to be kidding! as clearly as if he’d spoken the words.

Adam let the subject drop with a slight shrug and turned from the doorway. “The bathroom’s down this way.”

It took them less than a minute to view the old sink, toilet and tub. They returned to the kitchen and found Jane still emptying a tall grocery bag. “I put the cereal, bread and canned stuff in the cabinet by the stove,” she said. “Candy bars are in the top drawer next to the refrigerator.”

“I could use a candy bar,” Sam mumbled with a sidelong glance up at his father.

“You can have one,” Adam said. At least, he reflected with more than a little irony, his son hadn’t lost his appetite.

Sam made his choice and took a seat at the square, Formica-topped table. He stared out a side window at a high wall of deep green forest and seemed to get lost in his thoughts.

Jane continued with her project. After pulling out a long, narrow box, she squinted at the label. “This looks like spaghetti, but I’ve never seen this brand before.”

“It’s imported from Italy,” Adam explained.

“Oh.” Her lips quirked. “Should have known.”

There was no reason for that comment to put his teeth on edge, Adam told himself as he opened the cooler and hauled out a gallon of milk and a six-pack of the cola Sam favored. He set a short supply of the bottled spring water he liked on the counter, then reached in and retrieved one of the bottles of wine he’d removed from a chrome rack in his large, modern kitchen that morning.

Jane’s gaze landed on the wine as she folded the now-empty grocery bag. “I guess that’s imported, too, huh?”

“Yes.” The word came out more clipped than he’d intended. He gave himself a second to regroup, then asked, oh-so-casually, “Do you like wine?”

She met his eyes. “When I’m in the mood for alcohol, I mostly drink beer—and not the imported kind.”

Of course she would. And so would many of the people who had occupied this cabin before him, Adam imagined. Well, he was different. And he wasn’t going to apologize for it.

“To each his own,” he said.

“Mmm-hmm.” She turned, reached into the remaining grocery bag and began to stack salad fixings on the counter. “I think you forgot the lettuce,” she remarked after a moment.

“There’s lettuce.” Adam set down another bottle of wine and pointed to a leafy green bundle. “That’s romaine.”

“Oh, a fancy lettuce.”

Jane didn’t roll her eyes as his son had earlier, but Adam had little doubt she wanted to. That threatened to put his teeth on edge for a second time. “I can handle the rest of the groceries,” he told her.

“Okay.” She stepped away from the counter and looked at Sam. “Bye for now,” she said with a friendly smile that became merely polite as she returned her gaze to Adam. “You can get settled in the office whenever it suits you.” She pulled two keys from a jeans pocket and handed them over. “One’s for this cabin. The other’s for the office if I’m not around.”

He dropped them into one of the front pockets of his new shirt. “I’ll show Sam the rest of the resort before I fix dinner. I may get a chance to set up at the office later tonight.”

Jane nodded. “If you need anything that I haven’t thought of, my cabin’s not far away. Just start walking toward the lake and take a left when you come to a small fork in the path. The place is hard to see through the trees, but it’s easy enough to find when you know it’s there.”

“Does yours have a name, too?” Sam asked after a last swallow of his candy bar.

“Sure does. It’s Pitt’s Pride.”

Appropriate, Adam thought, more than suspecting that Jane Pitt had her share of pride and then some, as her great-aunt had probably had before her. “I’ll find it if I have to,” he said.

“Flashlight’s in the bottom cabinet next to the sink,” she told him. “Be sure to use it if you’re roaming around after dark. Won’t do anybody any good if you wind up getting lost in the woods.”

Adam crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her, his gaze narrowing. “I don’t plan on getting lost,” he replied firmly. He, too, had his share of pride. More than enough to reject even the remote possibility of losing his way.

Shrugging, she gave the items stacked on the counter a last look and headed for the porch.

“Way out of his element,” he heard her mutter before the screen door shut behind her with a thud.

JANE DIDN’T REALLY EXPECT to see a light on in the office when she went for a walk after dinner. She’d already watched the sunset from her kitchen window—something that had become a habit well before she’d switched cabins and moved into Pitt’s Pride after Aunt Maude was gone. To her, taking in that eye-pleasing sight and following it up with a quiet stroll just as the stars were making their appearance was the best way to end the day.

But despite how she favored spending her time before retiring for the night, she’d figured the resort’s new arrivals would take another tack and turn in early on their first evening at Glory Ridge. Apparently, she was wrong, because someone was in the office, and it could only be Adam Lassiter.

She could just continue on her walk. Truth was, he’d probably prefer it. She’d noticed that he’d been far from thrilled with her comments on his grocery choices, not to mention her suggestion that he might get lost in the woods. Then again, she could always act as if she’d noted nothing and give in to the growing urge to see what he was up to. In the end, curiosity won out and had her investigating.

She found him seated behind the desk, his attention fixed on his laptop computer. The white glow from its small screen, together with the brass banker’s lamp at his elbow, provided more than enough light to make out his chiseled profile.

“Hi,” she said with deliberate casualness as she leaned in the doorway. “I thought maybe you’d leave the computer stuff until tomorrow.”

He glanced her way. “It seemed wiser to get a start on my research, since I had some time to myself. With no television up here, Sam decided to head off to his room and read for a while.”

“What does he like to read?” she asked. Reading had always been a pleasure of hers.

His mouth slanted wryly. “Science fiction, what else.”

“Hmm. Well, it fits right in with rockets and spaceships,” Jane allowed. With that, she took several steps forward, pulled out the remaining chair and sat facing her consultant behind the card table backed up to the front of the desk. “It’s none of my business, I’ll admit, but he looks a long way from pleased to be spending part of his summer here.”

He studied her for a moment. “I don’t know how much experience you have with children—”

“Not a whole lot,” she readily conceded, breaking in. “My sister has a son around Sam’s age. And kids have visited Glory Ridge off and on. Other than that, I haven’t spent much time with the younger set, but—”

It was his turn to interrupt. “I hope you’ll recognize that having been Sam’s father for eight years, I do have considerable experience, at least where he’s concerned.”

And how my son feels is my concern, not yours. He didn’t voice those words, but she heard them anyway. And hadn’t she already admitted Sam was none of her business?

“Point taken,” Jane said. She changed subjects. “What kind of research do you plan on doing?”

His broad shoulders, which had stiffened for a minute, relaxed. “First thing on the agenda is to check out the resort’s competition—exactly who’s located where, what they charge and what they have to offer. Then I’ll try to dig a little deeper and find out who’s making a consistent profit, who’s not and why. Once that’s done, I’ll have a better idea what this place is up against.”

She ran her tongue around her teeth. “Sounds like a smart way to kick things off.” Honesty forced her to concede.

“When it comes to business, smart is my middle name.” It was no rash boast, just a soft and simple statement that rang with conviction. “I’ve helped both large and small companies throughout the western United States enhance their strengths and eliminate their weaknesses. Sometimes, it takes an outsider to get an objective analysis. And my suggestions have usually produced sizable profits.”

She leaned back in her swivel chair, which offered a squeak of protest. “Well, I guess they don’t pay you the big bucks for nothing.”

He grinned a wide grin—the first she’d seen crossing his face and one that instantly brought to mind Hester Goodbody’s words about her former pupil: He was a charmer.

Yes, Jane could see it now. And, she told herself, she could also pay that charm no mind. If she wasn’t quite as successful at that as she hoped to be, the last thing she wanted to do was let him know it. She sat silently while the old alarm clock standing on one of the file cabinets ticked off several seconds. “Could be you just might wind up earning your free stay here,” she went on at last in the most offhand manner she could summon.

Still grinning, he replied, “At the rate I normally charge for my services, it would take me less than a day to do that.”

“Humph.” Again she fought a war with her curiosity before it won out. “How much do you usually charge?”

The figure he named had her eyes round. “For a day?”

“Mmm-hmm. Plus expenses, of course.”

No wonder he could afford to drive a fancy sports car and wear suits that had never come off a rack. His parents might be well-to-do, but he seemed to be making his own way—and doing a bang-up job of it. Jane had to respect that, even if she didn’t plan on saying as much. “What happens after your research on the resort’s competition is done?”

His grin faded and his expression became all business. “Then we put our heads together and come up with a marketing strategy to take advantage of what I’ve learned.”

Once again she couldn’t fault the wisdom of his plan. He obviously knew what he was doing. She was the one who’d have to meet the challenge of keeping up with him. For all that she’d gotten good grades, she had never considered going on to college after high school. None of the Pitts had a college education.

Adam Lassiter, on the other hand, had probably not only aced his classes but wound up with a degree. Maybe more than one. And even beyond being educated, he could well be judged as having earned the title “expert.”

But only when it came to business, she reminded herself. In other areas, she could lay claim to being an expert. And maybe a demonstration was in order.

“I take it you and Sam also came here to spend some time outdoors,” she said. “Since you’ve made a start on your research this evening, how about a little fishing tomorrow?”

He hesitated for a beat. “Tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Thunder rumbled in the distance as she propped an elbow on the table and set her chin in the palm of her hand.

“Maybe it’ll be raining,” he replied after another hesitation—and with what just might be a hint of hope that would happen. “I remember how often storms whipping down from the mountains used to blow through Harmony in the summer.”

She shook her head. “The rains are late this year. It’s been thundering a ways off for the past several evenings, but we haven’t had a drop lately—and the forecast on the radio this morning was for more sunny skies tomorrow. I can take you and Sam out on the lake and give you a few pointers in the fishing department. That’s what I did for years when my great-aunt was still in charge around here—act as a guide on and off when visitors requested one.”

He released what sounded like a resigned breath, then set his jaw, as though having resolved to tackle something he was hardly eager to do.

“All right,” he said.

“Good.” She shoved back her chair and got to her feet. “I keep our extra fishing equipment in the storage room,” she explained with a nod at a doorway off one side of the office. “I’ll pull out what you two need first thing tomorrow and meet you here at five o’clock.”

His eyes widened for a second, then narrowed in a flash. “Five in the morning?”

She held back a smile. “That’s when the fish start biting.”

He let out another breath, pressed a few keys that made the computer screen fade to black and closed the laptop with a snap. “I suppose I’ll turn in,” he said, rising.

“A smart man probably would,” she told him, doing her best to maintain a bland expression.

He picked up the flashlight lying on the desk, switched it on and turned off the lamp. Seconds later he was locking the outside door behind them. As he aimed the flashlight down the gravel path, they walked toward his cabin. At the porch, a faint glow spilled through the front windows, over the rocking chair set beside the door. Several yards away, an owl hooted in the trees, the only sound in the quiet surroundings.

“Well, I guess this is where we part company,” she said.

He flicked off the flashlight. “Want to take this with you?”

She shook her head. “I can do without, especially with the stars out. Even when they’re not, I don’t have much trouble. I know my way around this place.”

He didn’t argue the point. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“At five,” she cheerfully reminded him.

Even in the dim light, she didn’t miss his fleeting grimace before he held out his right hand in an apparent effort to put things back on a businesslike basis. “Good night.”

“Good night,” she said, and placed her hand in his for the first time. As she’d expected, his palm was warm and dry and not at all rough to the touch. What she didn’t expect—despite the ease with which he’d handled the large cooler earlier that day—was the solid strength underscoring his light grasp. Or how the feel of his bare skin against hers would affect her.

Because it did.

Jane dragged in a steadying stream of cool air and pulled her hand away. Get moving, she flat-out ordered herself. And while you’re at it, get your head screwed on straight.

Obeying at least that first command, she turned and continued down the path that would fork off to her cabin. With firm determination to betray nothing out of the ordinary, she didn’t so much as toss a backward glance over her shoulder. Still, there was no denying the blunt truth that she had felt some sort of…attraction, she guessed would describe it. One that all boiled down to male and female. She’d seen too much of nature’s ways to fail to recognize it.

Good grief, for that brief yet humming moment when their palms had touched, she’d been in danger of being bowled over in the most barnyard-basic way by Adam Lassiter—probably the fanciest man she’d ever met. As a plain woman, she knew down to the familiar ground under her feet how foolish that was.

She’d only made a fool of herself once before over a good-looking male, and that was so far back it didn’t really count. Not that she didn’t recall the times she’d let Bobby Breen sweet-talk her into the back seat of his old Chevy convertible. Or how he had moved on when a prettier girl took an interest. Still, she’d survived that stinging rejection and come out the wiser.

All she had to do was keep that in mind from now on when dealing with a slick consultant. He probably wouldn’t be sporting any charming grins come morning, Jane assured herself. More likely, he’d be half-asleep.

She, however, was used to getting up early. And she could be chipper, too, at that time of day. Which she would be tomorrow, she vowed. She wasn’t letting anyone in on the fact that if she and Adam Lassiter had shaken hands during his first visit to Glory Ridge, she might never have encouraged him to spend part of his summer here, much as she needed some savvy business advice.

No, she wasn’t letting anyone know that.

Especially him.

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