Father Formula. Muriel Jensen
when he was in high school. The women he’d met in college and since had been smart, ambitious, witty and equal to anything.
He’d appreciated them, but he hadn’t realized how appealing gentle laughter had been until he’d heard it, how completely mind-blowing it was to have a woman walk into his arms and lean her weight into him with a trust that was more instinctive than learned. Something in her had responded to something in him without any real knowledge of him.
They’d talked about nothing important. The eye appeal of Dancer’s Beach, chocolate-covered cherries, the White Sox, Cliffside.
He smiled with the new knowledge that her interest in the house had been part of the plan she and her sisters had concocted to find out why their aunt had left Cliffside to David. It amused him to think that when she’d met him, she’d considered him a criminal.
He should be offended, he supposed, but considering her complete capitulation before the night was over—and the fact that it had resulted in his becoming a father—it was hard to put a bad spin on it.
Anxiety and impatience tried to force themselves into the forefront of his mind when he thought of her helpless and alone—except for the scary guy with whom the boys had reported seeing her at the airport when they’d run away. No one knew whether he was a threat or a friend—and Trevyn couldn’t think about him as the former or he’d go insane.
He’d called Officer Holden this morning and learned only that the verification of passengers whose luggage had gone through that particular carousel was ongoing and, so far, everyone checked out.
Trevyn continued packing, something comforting in the handling of long-used equipment. There was nothing to do but wait.
In the meantime, he would see what he’d gotten on the rolls of film he’d shot in Canada, then he’d concentrate on getting his studio ready in town. Photography was a high-maintenance mistress.
He was just about to lock himself in the darkroom when he heard the lion’s head knocker pound twice against the door. He hurried through the kitchen and the living room, wondering if Dave and Athena had forgotten something.
It was Alexis, Ferdie sitting beside her. Her arms were folded and her chin was angled defensively.
She needed something—already. He tried not to betray his enjoyment in the fact.
He reached a hand out to the dog, who snuffled then licked it. “Yes?” Trevyn asked.
“I left my key on the dresser,” she said lightly, trying to convince him that she wasn’t at all uncomfortable in approaching him. “And the door locked behind me when I carried out Athena’s bag.”
“Oh.” He nodded sympathetically.
She waited for more.
This was just too good.
She drew a breath, her patience clearly strained. She asked courteously, “May I borrow yours?”
He spread his hands helplessly. “I don’t have one.”
“What do you mean, you don’t have one?” she demanded. Realizing her voice had risen, she lowered it and added reasonably, “When you picked the lock, I thought you said you’d only misplaced your key.”
“I had,” he replied, “and when I found it, I gave it to Athena. I imagine that’s the one she gave you. Have you tried the windows?”
She was beginning to realize he was playing her like a violin. Her gaze was condemning. “You and David put the storm windows in yesterday.”
He snapped his fingers. “That’s right! I forgot.”
She told him with her eyes what she wanted.
He gave her a look that told her she was going to have to ask for it aloud.
She shifted her weight, threatened him with a fulminating glare that bounced right off him, then closed her eyes and expelled a deep breath.
“Would you, please,” she asked, emphasizing the please, “pick the lock for me?”
Yes. That did feel as good as he’d imagined it would. But she was Gusty’s sister, after all, and he was, despite her contention, a gentleman.
“I’d be happy to,” he said amiably.
HE HAD THE DOOR OPEN in a matter of seconds.
Alexis forced a grateful smile. “Thank you very much. I appreciate your help.”
He inclined his head as he pocketed the pick. “I meant it when I offered it earlier. We’re probably going to be in-laws, after all.”
“Really.” She tried to imagine her sweet, gentle sister married to this smart-mouthed man and couldn’t quite see it. But she was carrying his baby.
It was on the tip of her tongue to invite him in for coffee, but it was too hard to make the concession.
“I’m going to town in the morning, if you need anything,” he said. “You can come along or just give me a list.”
“Thank you, but I thought walking to town would be a good way for both Ferdie and me to get our exercise. I promised that I’d see he got his walks.”
Trevyn nodded. “All right. Well, I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Thanks again.”
“Sure.”
Alexis closed the door behind him, then parted the drapes to watch him walk away. For all his personality problems, she thought, watching the easy movement of tight, lean hips, he had few physical ones.
Disgusted with herself for noticing, she closed the drapes, then spent the afternoon being domestic.
She put a load of laundry in the wash, checked the contents of the kitchen cupboards so that she could pick up what she needed on tomorrow’s walk. She discovered a decided lack of chocolate, pastry and peanuts.
Dotty was an excellent cook who provided good home-style healthy meals. While Alexis appreciated that, she knew that left to her own devices, she would eat mostly what didn’t have to be cooked and could be carried around in her hand. Of course, she had to find something for the boys to eat for dinner.
Then inspiration struck. She would take them for hamburgers or for pizza! She couldn’t do that every night, but a small adventure tonight would help them get acquainted.
She put her clothes in the dryer, then took Ferdie out into the yard for a game of fetch. He played eagerly.
The wind picked up and Alexis decided to add a jacket to her shopping list tomorrow. Sunny Italy didn’t require one, but fall in cool, rainy Oregon would.
The scent of pine and salt air brought back tumbled memories of her childhood, though, and she stopped a moment to inhale. She remembered picnics with Aunt Sadie on the beach, Alexis and her sisters playing with their dolls in the front yard, and when that grew tiresome, climbing trees and playing hide-and-seek in the woods behind the house.
She’d always tired first of the playing-house games, though Gusty could have fed and diapered her dolls forever. Alexis and Athena would eventually escape her scenarios of adult sisters in suburbia having babies and dinner parties and run to the woods for more physical exercise.
Gusty would eventually join them when she grew lonely, but she didn’t enjoy running and climbing like her sisters did.
Alexis experienced a paralyzing pang of desperation. Where was she? What had happened to her? And who was the “scary-looking man” Brandon and Brady had seen with her at the airport?
Unable to pursue that thought without going crazy, Alexis called Ferdie to her and went back into the house. She filled the dog’s bowl, gave him fresh water, then went to check on her laundry.
She folded it, then carried it upstairs and placed it on the dresser. She had the room Athena had occupied before she moved in with David.