Child of His Heart. Joan Kilby
“Very.” He grabbed the wrapped sandwich and threw down some money. “Thanks, Rosa. Oh, and two coffees, to go.”
“Sure thing. Erin likes caffe latte.”
Nick grinned. “Make it two.”
By the time he reached the sidewalk Erin had disappeared from sight. He walked in the direction of the bank, glancing into side streets. And then he saw her, strolling down a lane toward the park by the river. He caught up with her just as she was settling onto a wooden bench.
“Well, what do you know? This is my favorite bench, too,” he said, sitting down beside her.
“Are you following me?” she demanded, but a hint of a smile warmed her voice.
“Just another amazing coincidence.” He handed her a foam cup with a wisp of steam curling from the hole in the plastic lid. “Caffe latte?”
“Thank you. Or should I thank Rosa?” She slanted him a sideways glance from under lowered lids, reminding him of the first day he’d seen her.
“You and I are on the same wavelength, can’t you tell?” Nick hoped she wouldn’t think him rude for staring. Her long, gently waving blond hair, parted in the middle, contrasted sexily with her business outfit, but seemed to suit those ultra-long legs, which ended in multicolored suede high heels. He glanced at the still unwrapped sandwich in her lap. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
She smiled ruefully. “This is embarrassing to admit, but I hate pastrami.”
He held out his sandwich. “Trade?”
“Pastrami for pastrami? What’s the point?”
“I’ve got turkey.”
“Why?” she asked, suspicious but obviously tempted.
Smiling, he held her gaze. “Sometimes words just pop out of my mouth. You got me so flustered that before I knew what I was saying, I asked Rosa for turkey on sour dough with lettuce, hold the mayo.”
Laughing, she traded sandwiches with him. “You’re a case.”
“I’m sure you mean that in the nicest possible way,” he said as he unwrapped his sandwich. “You don’t seem like the kind of lady who would insult a virtual stranger.”
Erin took a bite, then pulled off a corner of her crust and threw it onto the grass for the ducks. A mallard family waddled over, quacking hungrily. “The whole town’s talking about you. You’re hardly a stranger anymore.”
“How boring. You already know everything about me.” He peered around her at the paper cup sitting on the bench. “Planning on eating that pickle?”
She handed it to him with a glance hinting of mischief. “Not everything.”
“Oh?” The dill crunched beneath his teeth. “Is there something you’d like to know but don’t?”
Pink suffused her cheeks, bringing out the blue in her eyes, and she laughed silently. “I could win a bet….”
“Just ask. I’ll tell you anything.”
Sobering, she sipped her coffee. “Don’t say that. The local grapevine can be intrusive. People here are genuinely caring, but you have to guard your privacy.”
“I guess you’re right,” he said, remembering the pinched-faced woman in the deli and her snide remarks to Erin.
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Across the river, Nick spotted a familiar figure clothed in tight black flares, a midriff-baring white top and clunky red platform sandals ambling toward the footbridge. “Miranda!” he called, and waved.
“Is that your daughter?” Erin asked, starting on the second half of her sandwich.
“Yes. Frankly, I’m surprised to see her outside. All week she’s been slouched in front of the TV.”
Miranda saw him and lifted her hand in a halfhearted wave.
“She’s tall for a twelve-year-old,” Erin remarked.
“She’s a child in a woman’s body.” Familiar worries gnawed his insides. “All she thinks about are boys, clothes and makeup. Although you’d never know about the last two by the awful way she dresses.”
“She’ll grow out of it. I made some unbelievable fashion mistakes when I was a teenager.”
Nick glanced at her suit. He didn’t know much about women’s clothes, but he could tell quality when he saw it. “That seems hard to believe.”
She smiled. “My little sister Geena is a model. Whenever she visits, she goes through my closet and throws things out, then takes me shopping. Sometimes she passes on designer outfits she’s worn once or twice. Our feet are exactly the same size so I really score on shoes.”
To Nick, Erin looked beautiful enough to be a model herself. Her face was long and oval, with wide blue eyes and a slight bump in the middle of her nose. Her full mouth showed a lot of perfect white teeth when she smiled. “You don’t mind her taking over like that?”
“Are you kidding? I love it! I like to wear nice clothes, but I don’t usually have a lot of time to shop. Besides, she’s my sister,” she added, as though that explained everything.
Miranda reached their side of the footbridge and hesitated, as though unable to decide whether to grace them with her presence. Nick waved her over again. To his embarrassment, she simply lifted a hand before taking the path to town. For an instant he saw his daughter through a stranger’s eyes—sullen and unlovely. The thought no sooner crossed his mind than it was replaced by a wave of protective love.
“She’s a good kid,” he said to Erin. “Smart as they come, especially at math. But sometimes she can be a little rude.”
“You don’t have to apologize. Twelve is a tough age.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” He took the last bite of his sandwich and chewed in silence.
“I hear you like fishing,” Erin said. He glanced at her, eyebrows raised, and she added with an apologetic smile, “Walt, who owns the sporting goods store, mentioned to Kelly’s husband, Max, that you’d been in to buy some fishing lures.”
Nick crushed his empty foam cup. “I wish Walt were as free with information on fishing spots. He acted awfully cagey when I asked him to recommend some good places.”
“The locals are very protective of their fishing holes.” Her smile turned dreamy. “My sisters and I used to fish with my grandfather. He had a secret spot on the river not even Jonah Haines or the mayor knows about. I caught my first fish there. Granddad used to bring in the biggest steelhead of anyone in these parts.”
“I don’t suppose you’d join me fishing tomorrow morning and show me where it is?” Nick said hopefully. He’d like to find that fishing hole, but more than that, he’d like to get to know Erin better.
Erin was quiet as she tucked her empty sandwich wrapper inside her cup. Finally she said, “I’m pretty busy helping my grandmother.”
She brushed a few crumbs off her skirt, pushed back her hair. Another second, Nick realized, and she’d be getting up to leave. “Would you have dinner with me sometime?”
He felt her retreat even before she got to her feet and tossed her cup into a nearby trash bin. “Thanks, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Nick rose, too, shaking out the creases in his pants. Damn. They’d gotten along fine until he’d asked to see her again. Maybe she was still hung up on that guy in Seattle, whoever he was. Well, he could be patient. In a town this small it was inevitable they would run into each other again.
When they reached the main street, Erin paused. “I’m going the other way. I want to stop in at Kelly’s office.”
“No