pranced ahead of her, stopping to sniff at a clump of duckweed, then discovering an alluring patch of grass. When she came to the end of the lane, she saw exactly what she wanted nestled in the trees. Lilies of the Field.
The tiny cottage had been freshly painted the softest of creamy yellows with its spindles and lacy wooden trim accented in palest blue and the same dusty pink as the inside of a seashell. Her chest ached. The cottage looked like a nursery.
She mounted the steps and discovered that the screen door squeaked, just as it should. She found the proper key in her pocket and turned it in the lock. Then she stepped inside.
The cottage was decorated in authentic shabby chic instead of the kind that was trendy. The white-painted walls were old and wonderful. Underneath a dustcover she found a couch upholstered in a faded print. The battered wooden trunk in front of it served as a coffee table. A scrubbed pine chest sat along one wall, a brass swing-arm lamp next to it. Despite the musty smell, the cottage's white walls and lace curtains made everything feel airy.
Off to the left, the tiny kitchen held an old-fashioned gas stove and a small drop-leaf table with two farmhouse chairs similar to the ones she'd seen in the B &B's kitchen. A glance inside the painted wooden cupboard showed wonderfully mismatched pottery and china plates, more pressed glass, and sponge-painted mugs. Something ached inside her as she spotted a child's set of Peter Rabbit dishes, and she turned away.
The bathroom had a claw-foot tub along with an ancient pedestal sink. A rag rug covered the rough-planked floor in front of the tub, and someone had stenciled a chain of vines near the ceiling.
Two bedrooms occupied the back, one tiny and the other large enough for a double bed and a painted chest of drawers. The bed, covered in a faded quilt, had a curved iron headboard painted a soft yellow with a flower basket motif worked in the center. A small milk-glass lamp rested on the bedside table.
In the back of the cottage, nestling into the woods, was a screened porch. Bent-willow chairs leaned against the wall, and a hammock hung across one corner. She'd done more today than she'd done in weeks, and just looking at the hammock made her realize how tired she was.
She lowered herself into it. Above her the beaded-board ceiling was painted the same creamy yellow as the exterior of the house, with subtle dusty pink and blue accents along the moldings. What a wonderful place. Just like a nursery.
She closed her eyes. The hammock rocked her like a cradle. She was asleep almost instantly.
The Klingon greeted Kevin at the cottage door with a growl and bared teeth. 'Don't start. I'm not in the mood.'
He walked past the dog to the bedroom and set down Molly's suitcase, then made his way to the kitchen. She wasn't there, but Charlotte Long had seen her disappear inside, and he found her on the porch, asleep in the hammock. Her watchdog scampered past him to do guard duty. Kevin gazed down at her.
She looked small and defenseless. One hand curled under her chin, and a lock of dark brown hair fell over her cheek. Her lashes were thick, but not thick enough to hide the shadows under her eyes, and he felt guilty for the way he'd been bullying her. At the same time, something told him she wouldn't react well to coddling. Not that he could have coddled her anyway. He still had too much resentment.
His eyes skimmed along her body, then lingered. She wore bright red capri jeans and a rumpled yellow sleeveless blouse with one of those Chinese collars. When she was awake and being her normal smart-ass self, it was hard to see her showgirl ancestry, but asleep it was a different story. Her ankles were trim, her legs slim, and her hips had a nice soft curve. Beneath her blouse, her breasts rose and fell, and, through the open V, he caught a glimpse of black lace. His hand itched to pop open the buttons and see more.
His reaction disgusted him. As soon as he got back to Chicago, he'd better call an old girlfriend because it had clearly been too long since he'd had sex.
The Klingon must have been reading his mind because he started to growl at him, then barked.
Roo awakened her. Molly eased her eyes open, then sucked in her breath as she saw the shadow of a man looming over her. She tried to sit up too quickly, and the hammock tipped.
Kevin caught her before she could fall and set her on her feet. 'Don't you ever think first?'
She brushed the hair from her eyes and tried to blink herself awake. 'What do you want?'
'Next time tell me when you're going to disappear.'
'I did.' She yawned. 'But you were too busy gaping at Mrs. Anderson's breasts to pay attention.'
He pulled a bent-willow chair away from the wall and sat down on it. 'That couple is completely worthless. The minute you turn your back on them, they're climbing all over each other.'
'They're newlyweds.'
'Yeah, well, so are we.'
There was nothing she could say to that. She sank down on the metal glider, which was missing its cushions and very uncomfortable.
His expression grew calculating. 'One thing I'll say about Amy, at least she supports her husband.'
'The way he was holding her against the tree-'
'It's the two of them against the world. Working side by side. Helping each other out. A team.'
'If you think you're being subtle, you're not.'
'I need some help.'
'I can't hear a word you're saying.'
'Apparently I'm stuck with this place for the summer. I'll get somebody in here to run it as soon as I can, but until then…'
'Until then nothing.' She rose from the glider. 'I'm not doing it. The sex-crazy newlyweds can help you. And what about Charlotte Long?'
'She says she hates to cook, and she was only doing it because of Judith. Besides, a couple of the guests came looking for me, and all of them take a dim view of her efforts.' He rose and started to pace, his restless energy buzzing like a bug zapper. 'I offered them a refund, but when it comes to their vacations, people are completely unreasonable. They want the refund plus everything they were promised in that
'Whatever. The point is, we're going to have to stay in this godforsaken place a little longer than I planned.'
It wasn't godforsaken to her. It was charming, and she tried to make herself feel happy that they'd be here longer, but all she felt was empty.
'While you were taking your beauty rest, I went into town to put a Help Wanted ad in the local paper. I find out the place is so damn small the paper's a weekly, and it just came out today, so the next issue is seven days off! I put out the word with some of the locals, but I don't know how effective that's going to be.'
'You think we'll be here a week?'
'No, I'll talk to people.' He looked ready to take a bite out of something. 'But I guess there's a chance if I can't find anyone until the ad's out. Not a big chance, but I suppose it could happen.'
She sat on the glider. 'I guess you'll be running a B &B until then.'
He narrowed his eyes. 'You seem to have forgotten that you took a vow to support me.'
'I did not!'
'Did you pay any attention to those wedding vows you were saying?'
'I tried not to,' she admitted. 'I'm not in the habit of making promises I know I'm not going to keep.'
'Neither am I, and so far I've kept my word.'
'To love, honor, and obey? I don't think so.'
'Those weren't the vows we took.' He tucked his hands under his arms and watched her.
She tried to figure out what he was talking about, but her only memories of the ceremony were of the poodles and the way she'd held on to Andrew's sticky little hand for dear life. A sense of uneasiness crept through her. 'Maybe you'd better refresh my memory.'
'I'm talking about the vows Phoebe wrote for us,' he said quietly. 'Are you sure she didn't mention it to you?'
She'd mentioned it, but Molly'd been so miserable she hadn't paid attention. 'I guess I wasn't listening.'
'Well, I was. I even fixed a couple of the sentences to make them more realistic. Now, I might not have this exactly right-you can call your sister to verify-but the gist of it is that you, Molly, promised to accept me, Kevin, as your husband, at least for a while. You promised to give me your respect and consideration from that day forward.
