Never Alone Page 7

  “Wow!”

  “When the former owner decided to retire and sell this shop, I was able to buy it because after working for six summers here, I had already established a strong clientele. That’s why my parents backed me and helped me buy it.”

  “Gee, I didn’t know that. How did you learn how to match customers to the right clothes?”

  “Well, that’s a longer story, and we don’t have time for it now, but in the future—if you really want to learn—I’ll take time to teach you.”

  “Okay!”

  Jane smiled broadly. Helping a woman find her distinctive style was always a heady experience for her. Tish’s unexpected, uncharacteristic enthusiasm and approval also pleased her. But recalling the disappearance of the size eight skirt still took some of the glow off the evening.

  Jane sighed. “It’s time to close. Let’s shut her down.” The two of them went through the nightly routine and parted for home.

  When Jane finally walked into her house, it was dark, after 10:00 p.m. Inside, she heard Angie’s muffled crying. As she hurried upstairs, the back of her neck tensed. She had hoped Angie’s teething pain would take a break. She didn’t want to wear Lucy out. The crying stopped, and Jane held back the greeting she had been just about to voice.

  She topped the staircase, then halted at the sight of Cash’s broad shoulders and dark head held high. Her stomach fluttered wildly. Cash. She strained to bring his name to her lips. He turned. Angie lay propped with her face against his shoulder. At the sight of Angie in his arms, a second shock wave vibrated through her, changing quickly into temper. What is he doing here with Angie?

  While Cash patted Angie’s back, he stared at her, then he began bouncing the baby slightly by taking exaggerated steps. He turned his back and walked away from Jane.

  She pursued him. Tapping Cash on his shoulder, she whispered, “Give her to me.”

  She held out her arms.

  He began humming, blotting out the sound of Jane’s whisper. He shook his head and turned away from her again.

  Breathing fast, she trailed behind him. She whispered again. “Why are you here?”

  He shook his head at her. “Not now,” he mouthed. “She’s almost asleep. Leave me alone.”

  Jane flushed with anger. Cash had no right, appropriating Angie here in her house. But she didn’t dare upset the infant, who was now so close to settling down for the night.

  She tapped Cash’s shoulder again. She mouthed to him, “Did she take her last bottle?”

  He nodded.

  “Does she have a night diaper on?”

  He nodded curtly, then waved the back of his hand motioning her to go away.

  Seething, Jane left him in the hallway, went into her room and shut the door firmly but soundlessly. There she vented her agitation by shedding her white linen suit, pitching it piece by piece into the heaping basket of clothing in her closet. She jerked on a yellow cotton knit T-shirt and matching shorts. Standing before the mirror, she raked her comb through her mussed hair.

  Without any effort, she could put together the explanation for Cash’s appropriation of her home, of Angie: he’d stopped by Lucy’s cottage and suggested he take Angie home, so Jane wouldn’t have to drive out to Lucy’s after work. Jane slapped the comb down on her vanity. How could Lucy resist him? Cash Langley, the good neighbor.

  A faint tap sounded on her door. She opened it.

  Cash whispered, “Downstairs.”

  She led him down to the kitchen, the point in the house farthest from Angie’s room. Standing with the kitchen table between them, Jane crossed her arms and opened her mouth.

  Cash cut her off. “First thing in the morning, I’m buying an air conditioner for Angie’s room.”

  “Air conditioner?” The word took her by surprise.

  “Why haven’t you realized that Angie would sleep better if she weren’t so uncomfortable in this heat?”

  “I…I don’t like air-conditioning,” she stammered.

  “You have it in your shop.”

  “That’s for the customers.”

  “Does Angie rate less than your customers?”

  “Of course not, but I’ve never needed air-conditioning before.” Jane felt as though she were being buffeted by wave after wave of disapproval. “Cash, why—”

  “I don’t care about what you’ve needed in the past. Angie can’t sleep well in that small upstairs room without air-conditioning.”

  “Stop!” Jane held up both hands. “This isn’t about air-conditioning! What are you doing here?”

  “Didn’t you get my message? Lucy looked tired to me, so I told her I would take care of Angie and let her get to bed early.”

  “Lucy looked tired?” Jane asked, feeling a tug of guilt.

  “Yes, she hasn’t been sleeping well in this heat.”

  “She never said anything about that to me.”

  “I had to worm it out of her.” Cash crossed his arms in front of his chest.

  “You did?”

  “Yes, I did. I persuaded her to start sleeping over at your parents’ air-conditioned cottage till this heat breaks. I walked her there, then brought Angie here.”

  Jane felt deflated, guilty. But she wouldn’t let him divert her. “I’m glad you did that for Lucy, but I still want you to understand you can’t just walk in and take over Angie and my house.”

  Cash drew himself up straighter. “Taking good care of Angie—”

  “Angie is my responsibility. Maybe you’re right. Air-conditioning might be a good idea. This has been such an unusual summer. But I’ll be the one to decide—”

  “How do you think it makes me feel, knowing Angie needs something and I have to argue with you about whether she gets it or not? I won’t be pushed aside!”

  “I’m not pushing you aside…”

  “Yes, you are. You do it every time I try to get close to Angie.”

  “That’s not so.” Jane spoke, then realized Cash’s words were true.

  “Yes, it is.”

  Jane blushed. Dear Lord, I didn’t mean to lie. I know I’m handling this badly. Help me.

  Cash leaned forward and put his hands flat on the kitchen table. “I’ve had it with your possessive attitude. In the past six months, I’ve been busy moving here and getting the Shores off the ground, so I’ve let matters over Angie float. But I haven’t folded. You may be in possession of my niece, but she still belongs with me—whether you’re in the picture or not.”

  Jane’s throat tightened.

  “Tomorrow is our Saturday picnic. I will come early and install an air conditioner in Angie’s room, then we’ll talk about joint custody.” He left her.

  Jane slumped into the nearest chair and rested her head on her hand. She sat there a long while until she was able to think clearly again.

  What is wrong with me? I started fighting with Cash—without waiting for the facts. He hadn’t done anything I wouldn’t have done myself. Why had she been tempted to snatch Angie out of his arms and run? She was attracted to Cash, but terrified by what he might do next. Her heart twisted painfully.

  For a split second she saw Dena’s face in her mind. She folded her arms on the tabletop and buried her face in them. “Oh, Dena,” she whispered to the empty room, “I thought we had years and years ahead of us. Now all I have left of you is Angie.” A moan worked its way up from deep inside her. Would the pain of Dena’s loss ever lessen? Would the panic she felt whenever Cash held Angie in his arms ever cease?

  “That should hold it in place.” Cash turned the screwdriver one more time, then stepped back to look at the new air conditioner, perched in Jane’s east window.

  “Are you sure you want it in my room?” Jane asked guardedly.

  “Yes, having Angie sleep in here, I’ll be sure you can hear her. If I left her in her own room with the door closed, you might not hear her over the air conditioner.”

  Jane wanted to tell him, in no uncertain terms, that she would hear Angie’s cry through t
en doors, but she still reeled from his threat of last night. What exactly about joint custody did he plan for discussion today? Her heart froze. She couldn’t even begin a prayer.

  While she watched him rearrange the antique furniture in her room to fit in Angie’s crib and changing table, she bounced Angie on her hip and worried.

  The phone rang. Without a word, Cash lifted Angie from Jane’s arms. When he closed the door behind him, Jane sat down and picked up the receiver of her bedside phone.

  “Jane,” Lucy said, “are you angry with me about last night?”

  “No, Grandmother. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me you were too tired to watch Angie?”

  “Because I wasn’t, until about 7:00 p.m. Then all my energy just drained away. If I could have persuaded Angie to settle down, it wouldn’t have mattered, but she didn’t have that in mind.”

  “I feel terrible. I won’t let it happen again.”

  “Don’t fuss, dearest. I feel much better this morning. Did Cash tell you he bullied me into sleeping at your parents’ last night?”

  “Yes, and this morning he’s bullied me into letting him put in a window air conditioner in my room.” She couldn’t keep the ire from her voice.

  “This morning!” Lucy chuckled. “He certainly didn’t waste time, did he?”

  “Oh, Grandmother, he said he still wants Angie.” A quaver shook Jane’s voice.

  “Did that surprise you?”

  “Yes! He hasn’t said anything—”

  “Jane, Cash isn’t easily turned away from a goal. Of course he still wants Angie.”

  Jane bit her lower lip. “How can I stop him?”

  “My only advice is not to let him roll over you like a tank. You’re an Everett. Stand up to him.”

  “How?”

  “God will provide the answer when you need it. Just ask Him. Now, your parents called. They’re due in tonight.”

  “Tonight? Already?”

  “Yes, dear, it’s the end of June. They’re driving up to spend Fourth of July at the lake.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow morning—when you aren’t so distracted.” Lucy hung up.

  Jane sat holding the phone. Closing her eyes, she tried to still her anxiety and draw on God’s strength. But God seemed too far from her. Fear had walled her in. She put down the phone and went downstairs.

  Cash was waiting for her. “Ready?” he asked.

  She nodded and picked up the diaper bag on the bottom step. As she walked through the house, shutting off lights and locking doors, she reminded herself that she was an Everett. She could handle any situation.

  They stowed the picnic gear behind the rear seat of Cash’s blue Jeep, then took off. Cash set out down the highway till he turned down an old county road.

  Jane sat back, trying to relax.

  “Well, do you want to make a bet on whether or not we’ll be all alone at the park?” he asked.

  “I’d say yes, we’ll be on our own, and I wouldn’t want to take your money.” Jane glanced back at Angie.

  “Did Lucy ever ask the county board why there’s this big beautiful park here that only we seem to use?”

  “No, she was afraid that they’d put up bigger signs and soon we’d—”

  “Be overrun with tourists.” He nodded.

  Jane smiled as Angie slapped her hands on the padded bar of her car seat.

  “Having fun, Angel?” Cash asked over his shoulder.

  Angie cooed.

  Jane frowned.

  Cash glanced at Jane. “Tom called me yesterday. You haven’t drawn out any money from Angie’s trust.”

  “I haven’t really needed anything.”

  “The fund is ample. You’re supposed to use it for Angie’s expenses.”

  “I don’t want to. I’m able to support Angie on my own.”

  “So am I.” Cash’s tone became gritty. “But the fund—”

  “I want that to be a large part of her inheritance.”

  “She will receive an ample inheritance from me.”

  “But when you marry, Cash, that inheritance would have to be spread thinner.”

  “I’m not going to marry—”

  “I think that’s unlikely.” Jane turned to look at him.

  “I’m not going to marry,” Cash insisted, leaving no room for argument. The topic of marrying hit him unexpectedly. What if Jane married? The thought of Jane marrying a stranger appalled him. Why hadn’t he considered this possibility before? Why hadn’t Dena? An unknown man taking part in Angie’s life? No!

  A small, weathered sign announced, “Sandy Lake Beach—Two Miles.” He drove on, feeling grim.

  As they turned a tree-lined corner, the park appeared before them. A small, but beautiful space with a well-groomed lawn, pristine dark green picnic tables and a wide sandy beach, all completely unpeopled, waited for their use.

  “Six and a half miles south the beaches are packed,” Jane said. “Every time I come here I expect to find—”

  “A horde of tourists. So do I.” He turned to Angie. “We’re here, Angel.”

  Before Jane could undo her seat belt, Cash had unhooked his and Angie’s and had swept the baby out of the Jeep. He swung her high, seating her behind his head, across his shoulders, with his hands gripping the baby’s pale, chubby ones. Carrying the diaper bag, Jane hurried ahead of him.

  Cash frowned as he watched her. In spite of himself, he was fascinated by the motion of her hips under her pale yellow sundress. The dress hung straight from the sleeveless shoulders down to the hips where it was gathered beneath the swell of her bottom. He clenched his teeth momentarily. Red had walked in front of him a thousand times. Why was he noticing the seductive sway of her hips now?

  In the shade of the two large oaks, Jane shook out the quilt and laid it over the green grass and pine needles. Out of direct sunlight and cooled by the lake breeze, the temperature was warm yet comfortable. Jane reached for Angie, but Cash ignored her and swung the child down onto the quilt.

  Angie crawled swiftly to Jane. Lifting the child’s hands, she helped the baby to stand up. Angie giggled. Then Jane coaxed Angie down onto the soft, cotton quilt and proceeded to change the baby’s wet diaper. Jane looked up and found Cash frowning down on her.

  “I thought you were going to take her to the doctor about her diaper rash.”

  “I haven’t had time,” she replied defensively. “I’ll make the appointment Monday.”

  “You know I’d take her anytime she needs to go. Just call me.”

  “I’m quite capable of—”

  “Let’s not argue. I can take a baby to the doctor, too. And next time I won’t wait for you. I’ll take her myself.”

  “You can’t.” Looking up at him defiantly, Jane let Angie roll onto her knees. “Only a parent or guardian can seek medical services for a minor.” Jane scattered a few toys from the diaper bag in front of Angie.

  Frustration laced with anger zigzagged through Cash. He felt close to his breaking point. He breathed deeply, trying to rein in his anger.

  Cash swung Angie up into his arms and walked toward the baby swings. Jane hurried to keep up with him. He slipped Angie into the black rubber seat, hooked the safety belt around her middle and gave her a gentle push from behind. Angie squealed.

  All the months of pushing down his own feelings and making changes in his life to suit Jane rose in his throat and choked him. She’d had her way for the past six months. Now he’d have his. Jane stood in front of Angie, just beyond the range of the swing. He looked into her face. “I want Angie.”

  Jane fidgeted with her gold loop earrings and then smoothed her hair back over her ear. “You’ve made that clear before today. Do you intend to sue for custody?” She faced him directly, though her chin trembled.

  He read the storm of fear in the green depths of her eyes. “I have a right to claim my only family—”

  “Dena and I were like sisters.” Jane felt a pinching around her heart
. “Do you think I would have loved her more if we had been born in the same family?”

  “It’s not the same. Angie is my blood,” Cash insisted.

  “Dena was my sister, too. Blood or not.”

  “You have your whole family. All I have is Angie! How can you be so selfish—”

  “I’m not being selfish. I’m following Dena’s wishes. Haven’t you spent any time thinking about why Dena chose me as guardian?” Again she winced inwardly.

  “It was obviously just a foolish decision that Dena would have changed if she’d had time to think it over.”

  “That’s emotionally and intellectually dishonest and you know it.”

  Cash frowned.

  “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe my family is one of the reasons Dena wanted Angie with me?” What had begun as a pang each time she said Dena’s name, now became a full-scale tightness in her chest which made it hard for her to breathe.

  “What?” He gave the baby girl another gentle push.

  “Don’t you realize how Dena hated being so alone?”

  “She wasn’t alone. She had our father and me.”

  “Your father traveled constantly while Dena was growing up. And you were ten years older than we were. Didn’t you ever notice how she was always next door at my house or with Lucy?”

  “What are you saying? Are we going to have a contest over who loved Dena more?”

  “No! You’re not listening to me!” Her heart pounded while the heaviness in her breast increased.

  “What am I missing?”

  “When you were growing up, your parents were still together—”

  “I don’t want to go into that.”

  “Just listen. After your mother left, you no longer were a complete family. Your father traveled. You were busy at school, busy with a different stage of life than Dena. You weren’t a kid when she was.”

  “Are you making this up or did Dena really feel this way—that she didn’t have a family?”