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He didn’t fool her with that lofty grin; his shell was just a veneer. “No, but I don’t have pucks getting shot at me from left and right.” She motioned to his jersey. “You should wear long sleeves. What if you fell? You’d make mincemeat of your skin.”
“The ice wouldn’t dare meet my face, and in case you didn’t notice, I’ve been doing all the shooting in this one-sided war.”
One-sided war? A revealing choice of words for someone who was supposed to be so private. He might not be as open as a clam in a cookout, but he was definitely loosening up. This was going to be easier than she’d thought. A man’s confidence was easy to win when he wasn’t wearing his armor.
And win his confidence was what she aimed to do. She and Adam were going to become friends. Good friends. It wasn’t enough for her to become part of Megan’s life; she had to embed herself in his, as well. How else could she persuade him that sending Megan away was no solution? How else could she get him to see that Erika wasn’t the kind of role model Megan needed?
“If it’s one-sided, who are you fighting?” she prompted.
“Why don’t you tell me? You seem to be full of advice.”
Might as well dive right in, she thought. They weren’t bosom buddies yet, but this was as good a time as any. “You’re fighting yourself. And you’re in a deadlock.”
“Do tell. Go on.”
“I don’t think it was the incident at home that started this particular war. It’s part of the reason, but I have a feeling there’s a lot more going on.”
“And I have a feeling you’re going to tell me exactly what that is.”
Got that right, Rachel thought. He asked, didn’t he? “I think you’re undecided about Megan going away to school.”
“My daughter’s been blabbing again. What else did she say?”
“Please don’t be angry with her. She just needed someone to talk to. Can’t you tell she’s upset?”
“She can talk to whomever she pleases,” he answered tightly, “but for your information, I’m fully aware of how my daughter feels. And, I might add, I’m not undecided.”
Rachel’s heart sank. “So it’s definite? You’re sending her away?”
“I’m not sure I like the way you said that. I’m not sending her away, I’m furthering her education.” He stared out onto the ice. “Ah, hell, it’s not just her education I’m thinking of. I guess you’ve already figured that out, too. Megan has problems, like that mouth of hers. She’s defiant and rebellious, and I’m convinced she sneaks out of the house every chance she gets. But no matter how much I threaten her, she denies it, and she won’t tell me who she hangs out with. Frankly, the whole thing scares me.”
Rachel remembered the scene in his office. She’d thought that Megan was a little ill-mannered, but that it wasn’t serious. Nothing the guidance of a loving mother wouldn’t fix. So far she hadn’t seen anything to warrant what Adam had told her, but she knew how deceptive appearances could be.
She recalled her dreams, and a wave of anxiety swept through her. Two years ago a voice had begun to call out to her, soft and wistful, while she slept. With a certainty she couldn’t explain, Rachel knew that something had happened. Worried that her daughter was in some kind of trouble, she contacted the adoption agency, but her request for information was denied. The records were to remain sealed.
Then, two months ago the dreams changed. The voice in the night was no longer faint and distant, but insistent and compelling, demanding to be heard. Determined to find her daughter, Rachel had hired a private investigator. She’d learned that two years ago—when the dreams first started—Megan’s adoptive mother had been killed in a car crash. But the P.I. hadn’t mentioned another crisis. Why had the dreams changed? The question wasn’t something she could ask Adam. Not only would she rouse his suspicions, he would think she was crazy.
“You think sending her away will solve her problems,” she stated, trying to keep her voice steady. “Do you really think this is what she needs?”
“What she needs is a fresh start.”
A fresh start? It was Erika who wanted a fresh start—without his daughter. Rachel wanted to jump up and shake some sense into him. “Megan is feeling insecure. All girls her age go through it, but it’s worse for her, not having a mother. And now you’re asking her to leave her home, the only home she’s ever known. You grew up here—surely you can understand how difficult the thought of leaving must be. I know I couldn’t do it.”
“How did you know I grew up here?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. How did you know?”
“The way Megan talked about Middlewood, I, uh, just figured that you were a born-and-bred native.”
He looked at her through narrowed eyes. “I’m mystified. You said, ‘I know I couldn’t do it.’ Didn’t you just move here from Hartford?”
If she continued to blurt things out, she’d blow her cover in no time. She had to be more careful, but it wouldn’t be easy. Adam had a way of looking at her that was sharp and knowing. Even if she never said a word, she was afraid his probing steel-blue eyes would uncover her secret.
“Leaving Hartford didn’t bother me. All I meant was that if I’d had a real home, I never could have left it.” Even when he looked at her through half-closed eyes, the way he was looking at her now, it was as if he was seeing right through her.
When he didn’t speak, she felt she had to offer more of an explanation. “My mother is a concert pianist,” she said cautiously. “She moved up quickly in the music world, and we moved around a lot. Even though I ended up in Hartford, I learned not to become attached to any one place.”
His eyes softened, surprising her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to give you the third degree.”
She almost sighed aloud with relief. She was off the hot seat. “What about Megan?” she asked, glad to turn the conversation away from the past. “You must have other reasons for wanting to send her away to school.”
“You’ve met Erika, haven’t you? I don’t know what Megan told you, but Erika is more than just the head of the drama department, such as it is. She and I have been friends for a long time now, and we—” He shifted uneasily on the bench. “I didn’t mean to bore you. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”
Rachel knew exactly why. The poor guy didn’t have a chance. When it came to wounded animals, she was the local veterinarian. She’d always been a magnet for the wounded, and from the way Adam had been beating up the sideboards, she could tell he was as wounded as they got. “You’re not boring me. I like Megan, and I’d like to help.”
He hesitated before continuing. “Megan is a talented young actress. Erika believes she has a future on the stage. She thinks that the Manhattan School for the Arts will provide her with the tools she’ll need to succeed, and I think she might be right.”
Might be right? Maybe he was undecided after all, she thought with hope. “And on the other hand?”
“What other hand?”
“So far you’ve given me reasons why Megan should go to this school. What are the reasons for her staying?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “There’s plenty of time for Megan to think about her future. If one day she wants to go to New York, I won’t stand in her way. But she’s still so young. In the meantime, what’s wrong with community theater? With me working here, we’ll get to spend time together. Although…”
“Although what?” Rachel asked when he didn’t continue.
“I’m not sure about the play, Annie. It’s no secret that Megan was adopted, and now that Cathy is…gone, what if she gets it in her head to go looking for her biological mother, like Annie?”
Rachel’s heart was thudding so loudly, she was sure Adam could hear. She didn’t want to discuss Megan’s adoption. “Annie is a wonderful play,” she said a little too loudly, as if to drown out the pounding in her chest. “Kids love it. The music is great, the scenery is imaginative, and it ends on such a happy note.”
“I’m not questioning its entertainment value, I’m worried about Megan opening up Pandora’s box. But it’s not just that. I’m also questioning the negative values the play projects. For one thing, Annie gets everything she wants while the rest of the world goes on starving.”
“It’s just a story,” Rachel said. “Escapism. Entertainment. Who wouldn’t want to be rich? And you forget that Annie finds love and acceptance. To me, this is emphasized much more than the material aspect. The play doesn’t project negative values at all! How can you possibly think that?”
“Whoa,” he said, holding out his hand as if to ward her off. “Take it easy. It’s not worth starting a war over. You said it yourself, it’s just a story. And you can ignore what I said about Pandora’s box. It was just a thought. A crazy, paranoid thought. Megan would never go searching for her natural mother. Cathy was the only mother she ever knew, and they were close. Closer than most mothers and daughters.”
“You’re right,” Rachel said in a small voice. “It’s just a story.” But it wasn’t just a story. It was her life.
An uncomfortable silence ensued. “It’s back to the ice,” he said after clearing his throat self-consciously. “Let’s meet in the morning to discuss costumes.”
She rose from the bench. “I should be going. The rain has probably let up by now.”
“Don’t bet on it. It’s not supposed to clear until later tonight. After I’m done here, I’ll give you a lift.”
“You don’t have to drive me. I can get a taxi.”
He laughed. “You’d have a better chance at winning the lottery than getting a taxi. Middlewood is a great town, but transportation isn’t one of its best features. School buses and a two-car taxi stand just about does it. And even if you’re lucky enough to get one of the cabs to come, it’ll take at least an hour, most likely two.” He ran his fingers across her hand. “Forget about walking. You’re like an icicle. Can’t have my new drama teacher getting pneumonia.”
As if on cue, she sneezed.
“Here, take this,” he said, untying the sleeves of his sweatshirt from around his waist. “If you’re going to stay and watch me mutilate the boards, you’ll need to cover up. I’ve been working up a sweat, but for you it must be like winter in here.”
“No, I couldn’t—”
“Don’t be stubborn,” he said, handing her the sweatshirt. “You must be freezing in that thin suit. And it’s a nice suit, by the way. I know I acted like a jerk back there in my office, the way I criticized your outfit, and I apologize. Actually, I’ve always liked that shade of green.”
“You didn’t criticize—”
“I don’t even like gray,” he said, interrupting her again, his eyes crinkling with gaiety. “I must have been on a mental vacation when I asked Farley to paint the walls that dingy tone.”
There was something gentle and contagious about his humor. He was thoughtful and considerate, and for Megan’s sake she was glad.
She pulled the shirt over her head, catching a whiff of the scent lingering in the material. It was a masculine scent, reminding her of oak and earth.
She warmed up immediately. It was as if the heat had radiated from his body, right through the fleece and into her blood. A delicious shudder moved down her spine.
It had nothing to do with his cocky, boyish smile. It had nothing to do with his strong, athletic body or the way he’d slammed those pucks against the wall like a man with a purpose. And it had nothing to do with the way she had tingled when he’d brushed his fingers across her hand. No, it had nothing to do with any of that.
As she watched Adam skate away, a voice popped into her head. At first she thought it was Megan’s, but then realized it was her own.
Puh-leeze!
“She won’t start,” Adam muttered, fiddling with the key in the ignition. “I think it’s the switch.”
“Why don’t you just buy a new car?” Megan piped up from the back seat. “What’s the use in having money if you don’t spend it?”
Over his shoulder Adam cast her a stony look. He wasn’t about to discuss his financial situation with his daughter, especially with Rachel sitting next to him in the car. “Ethel has a few miles left in her yet,” he said, although he doubted the truth in these words. If this relic didn’t have major surgery soon, it would probably disintegrate before his eyes.
He knew what Erika would have said to his reply. She would have accused him, once again, of not wanting to let go. Maybe she was right. The ’59 Chrysler DeSoto was more trouble than it was worth. It was always in the shop, and parts were hard to find, but it had been the last Christmas gift from his wife. It had been an extravagance, but Cathy had known how much he loved these old classics. They decided to trade in both their cars and buy a sport utility vehicle. Cathy would use the SUV and he would zip around in the DeSoto.
If it hadn’t been so tragic, it would have been ironic. She’d had second thoughts about giving him the DeSoto—it doesn’t look safe, she’d said. And yet it had been her car, a brand-new SUV that was supposed to absorb the shock of impact, that had folded like an accordion when the other driver had run the light.
“Did you ever hear of anything so ridiculous?” Megan said. “He actually named this old heap.”
“Ethel was my great-aunt,” Adam explained to Rachel. He turned the key again and this time Ethel purred. “My mother’s aunt. The story goes that she had a great—” He glanced at his daughter in the rearview mirror. “Let’s just say that this car was made to last.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Megan quipped.
“In that case I’m grateful to both Ethel and her owner,” Rachel said. “The next time the forecast says rain, I’ll believe it. I appreciate the lift, Adam.”
“My pleasure,” he said and meant it, but for the life of him, he didn’t know why he felt that way. Rachel was one nosy woman. Tricky, too. Look how fast she’d managed to get him to reveal his feelings about Annie. He groaned inwardly. After the preachy things he’d said, she must think he was a moron.
“The inn isn’t far from here, but I would have drowned in this storm,” she said, looking out the window.
He shifted into gear and pulled out of the lot. “When do you plan on looking for an apartment?”
“I thought I’d scout around this weekend. As charming as it is, I can’t live at the inn indefinitely.”
“If you want charming, I know of an apartment you can sublet. The tenant is a friend of mine. He’s away on a one-year sabbatical in France, and the landlord is willing to sublet on a month-to-month basis. Why not take a look at it? Living there temporarily would give you time to get to know the different neighborhoods before making a commitment to any one place.”
“Is it furnished?”
“Yes. Is that a problem? Of course it’s a problem. You’ll want to have your own things with you.”
“No, actually I would prefer it furnished.” She opened her purse and took out a pad and pen. “What’s the landlord’s number? I’ll give him a call when I get back to the inn. I’d like to see the place tonight, if I can.”
Adam rattled off the number. He wanted to know what she was planning to do with her own furniture, but he kept silent. Unlike some people, he wasn’t nosy.
As if she could read his mind, she said, “Since I won’t be staying in the apartment permanently, it would be silly to move all my things twice, don’t you think? For now, I’ll just leave my things, uh, stored where they are.”
“Rachel, why don’t you come over for dinner?” Megan asked. “The apartment is practically around the corner. Dad could drive you over there after we eat.”
Adam caught a glimpse of Rachel’s face. She was looking at him expectantly. He didn’t want her to get the wrong idea, especially after the way he had confided in her at the arena. Sure, she was attractive, and he couldn’t help but notice the concern in her eyes when they had talked about Megan, or the way her cheeks had flushed when he’d complimented her suit, or the way she’d crossed and uncrossed her legs when something seemed to bother her. But his life had enough complications and he sure as hell didn’t need another one. “I’m sure Rachel already has plans.”
“Puh-leeze! What plans could she have? It’s not as if she knows anyone in this town. And Paula is making chicken potpies. Paula takes care of us,” Megan explained to Rachel. “I bet her food is a lot better than the food at the inn. Don’t eat there, Rachel. What if you get food poisoning? Who’ll replace you at the center?”
Rachel laughed. “Actually, I’ve heard that the food there is pretty good. But your father is right. I have plans. I already made reservations.”
Adam pulled into the circular driveway outside the inn, and Megan made one last stab. “Won’t you change your mind, Rachel? I want you to meet Cinnamon. She’s my very best friend in the world, even though she’s a messy eater.”
“Sorry, Megan. I’ll have to meet your friend another time.”
“Cinnamon is her dog,” Adam said. “I think our Grace Farrel has an ulterior motive. She probably wants your opinion about Cinnamon playing Sandy, the mutt that befriends Annie and follows her everywhere. I, for one, think it’s a terrible idea. Cinnamon may be sweet, but she’s as dumb as a box of rocks. Completely un-trainable. What if, during the performance, she gets it in her head to do her business?”
Megan looked mortified. “Cinny would never do that!”
“And isn’t Sandy supposed to be male?” Adam pressed on. “As in, ‘Here, boy!’”
“Dramatic license,” Megan said. “We can make our own rules.”
“You mean poetic license,” Rachel said, laughing, “but you have the right idea.”
“She’s not even the right color,” Adam persisted. “Shouldn’t she be bright orange?”
“That’s the comic strip,” Megan said. “It’s supposed to be wacky. This is a play. More like real life.”
Rachel glanced at Adam. “We wouldn’t have to change a thing.”
“You see, Dad? Rachel thinks that Cinny should be Sandy.”
The way those two connected, you’d think they’d known each other forever. Adam felt like a heel. He knew that Rachel had declined Megan’s invitation to dinner only because he hadn’t backed it up. An idea occurred to him. “Why don’t you stop by for coffee after you’ve seen the apartment? Paula makes a mean batch of brownies.” What was the harm in one cup of coffee? Coffee wasn’t dinner. Besides, he was doing it for Megan.
“Say you’ll come,” Megan said excitedly. “Please, Rachel? I could show you my scrapbook. It’s got clippings of every performance I’ve been in. My mother started it when I was four years old, and Dad’s been keeping it going.”
“I’d love to see your scrapbook,” Rachel said. “And I’d love to meet Cinnamon.”
