A Hopeful Heart and A Home, A Heart, A Husband Page 7

  “Exactly what I’ve been doing for the past twenty-five years,” Hope told him with a smile. “Take each day as it comes and plan on making it the best yet.”

  “Good,” he agreed after a moment. “And I’ll be here to share them with you.”

  “You have been for a long time now,” she murmured, staring at his bald head as if she hadn’t noticed it before. “We’ve had some good times, haven’t we, Harry? You and Anna and I. She was my very best friend, you know. I always felt as if she was my sister.”

  Harry frowned.

  “Well, I don’t feel like your brother,” he muttered. To his delight she giggled, leaning nearer to kiss him on one cheek.

  “You don’t look like him, either,” she assured him, laughing. She jumped to her feet and tugged his arm. “Come on, lazybones. I let you feed me all that delicious food. The least you can do is help me walk it off.”

  “All right,” he agreed meekly. “But I carefully planned a low-fat meal, just as you prefer. You know that. As long as we just walk. I’m too old for anything else.”

  Hope’s blue eyes twinkled with mischief.

  “Really?” she asked. “That’s too bad.”

  Harry let her lead him down the path, resisting an urge to kiss her then and there. But no, he decided. He’d bide his time. They were just beginning to get closer, and she was only starting to come to terms with the possibility of Jean’s reappearance. Everything looked positive, but he’d keep mentioning things to the Lord, just the same. A little heavenly guidance couldn’t hurt, he decided, hearing Hope’s sudden burst of laughter.

  Chapter Four

  “Have a nice day, folks. Enjoy that sun.”

  Mitchel Edward Stewart was not having a nice day, despite the radio announcer’s bland wish. He had risen with a splitting headache on his first day off in weeks. The coffeemaker had refused to cooperate, and his doughnut supply was tapped out.

  It should have been simple. Everything was so carefully planned. He would pick up some supplies from downtown and then he was heading out for a day at the beach. Sun, sand and surf, that’s what he needed. Maybe even a cold root beer.

  Sighing, he stared balefully at his bright red sports car once more. Apparently, some things were not to be. The expensive engine refused to respond to his orders, and since anything under the hood of an automobile gave him hives, Mitch had called the shop.

  “Nope, can’t touch it today.” The youngster’s voice was less than helpful. At least he thought it was. You could barely hear over the crashing of some heavy metal band in the background.

  “Pardon?”

  “No can do, dude.”

  “And why is that?” Mitchel had forced a tight rein of control on his temper and prayed for strength. Impudent little brat!

  “Mechanic’s out sick. Have a good one!” With a click, the kid had hung up on him, leaving Mitchel to bite out a particularly choice epithet that divulged his irritation with the world in general.

  “Something I said?”

  He groaned, recognizing her voice immediately. Why now, why today? He turned to face Miss Melanie Stewart, a flush of red hinting at his turmoil.

  “Hi.” There. Let her make something of that.

  “Car problems?”

  His reply was curt and succinct. “Yeah.”

  “Can I look?”

  He stared at her. “Why?”

  Green eyes glared at him as she slapped her hands on her hips. “Gee, I don’t know. I thought I could steal a few spark plugs or maybe even the air filter.”

  Whew, talk about cranky! Without a word Mitch popped the hood and watched Melanie lean over to peer inside. His stomach dropped as his gaze followed her long legs to the white cuffed shorts that covered her shapely bottom. A tiny bit of skin peeked out between her waistline and the cropped red T-shirt she wore. He couldn’t stop staring.

  “Hmm, distributor cap’s shot.” She turned her head to glance at him. “You need a mechanic.”

  “Thank you for your assistance, Miss Stewart,” he said sarcastically. “I have already phoned one. He’s out sick.” Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, he thought grumpily.

  She shrugged and slammed the hood shut. Fortunately, she missed his knuckles by at least a millimeter.

  “Okay, looks like you’ve got it covered.”

  He frowned. Was that supposed to mean something?

  “Want a lift?” she offered, bending to pick up a large woven bag and a small cooler. “I’m going to the beach, but I could drop you somewhere.”

  Like in the river, he mused, well aware of her quick temper. Mitch decided he should not look a gift horse, or a gorgeous woman, in the mouth. Enough things had gone wrong today. Here was opportunity. Opportunity didn’t knock that often. He shouldn’t turn it down. Besides, she might invite him to share whatever was in that cooler, and he didn’t want to miss out on a decent meal.

  Mitch assembled his features into his best hangdog look and muttered, “Well, I was going there, too, but now, with no wheels…” He asked deferentially, “Are you sure it would be okay?”

  To his delight, she burst out laughing, her green eyes glinting in the sunshine. Seconds later they were hidden behind huge round sunglasses.

  “You don’t do humble really well.” She giggled. “In fact, it’s downright pathetic.” She waved. “But I’ll take pity on you anyway. Come on. You can hitch with me for today.”

  Mitch watched the animation flood her features as she laughed at him and thought how pretty she was when she wasn’t arguing with him. Of course, even then, with the light of battle turning her eyes that mossy color, Melanie still looked fantastic.

  When she motioned to her old beater, his face dropped. Unfortunately, she noticed. Never missing a chance, Melanie poked fun at him.

  “I know. It’s a step down for you.” She smirked. “But if you want to get to the beach today, this might be your only chance.”

  Embarrassed, Mitch got in while trying to come up with an appropriate apology. When nothing remotely suitable surfaced, he glued his lips shut and studied the dilapidated vehicle.

  She read his silence correctly.

  “Don’t worry.” She laughed. “Everybody thinks Bessie is gonna give up the ghost, but she always keeps going.” Lovingly, Melanie patted the worn dashboard. “She’s got the innards of a true champion.”

  “Champion what?” It wasn’t nice, but she didn’t take offence.

  “She may not be pretty but at least she’s running,” she reminded him gently.

  Mitchel tried not to stare as her shorts displayed those lovely long legs. He turned and stared straight ahead, trying not to ogle her. Sort of.

  “Do you always go to the beach on Saturday?”

  Good, Stewart, he congratulated himself. What a stimulating conversation!

  “No, only in the summer, when I have time and it isn’t raining.” She laughed. “Other than that, I don’t bother much.”

  Her curls were bound up in a ribbon on the top of her head. Mitch decided he’d like to undo that ribbon and run his fingers through the glowing silky mop.

  “You are a smart aleck, you know that?” he muttered. His eyes opened wide as he caught sight of her feet. Her toenails were bright pink. Mitch suddenly realized they had an effect on his already racing pulse.

  Gosh, he was in a bad way. It was just her toes, for goodness’ sake. He forced himself to look out the window.

  “Mitch?”

  “Melanie?”

  They spoke at the same time, each turning to stare at the other.

  “You go first,” he offered gallantly. The words he had wanted to say were stuck in his throat anyway.

  “Well, as you know, I have sort of a temper.” Mitch snorted at the obvious understatement, and Melanie had the grace to blush.

  “Okay, I have a temper,” she admitted.

  “A terrible temper,” Mitchel revised, tongue in cheek.

  “Anyway…” She glared at him over her sunglasses. “I
wanted to apologize for jumping to conclusions the other day. I know you were trying to help me, and I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

  Mitchel Stewart’s mind had wandered to considering whether she would wear that swimsuit again. “Uh-huh,” he muttered, lost in his daydream.

  “If you are still offering, I would like to take you up on your offer of a residence. Just for a few weeks,” she added quickly. And then, for his information, “No strings attached.”

  Privately grinning with glee, Mitch calmly asked, “What changed your mind?”

  Her sea-colored eyes studied him suspiciously before she answered. “Well, I think I’m being evicted.”

  His head shot up in surprise. “For what?”

  Melanie grinned. He could see that half-hidden little twitch that seemed to say “Gotcha!”

  “Shawna eloped with her boyfriend last weekend, and now she wants her husband to move in with her.” She grinned. “Not unreasonable, I suppose, but I think it’s going to be just a little crowded with the three of us.” Melanie shrugged nonchalantly. “Who am I to stand in the way of young love?”

  He was getting to know her, and he recognized a put-on when he heard it from her pink glossy lips.

  “Come on, Melanie!” Her big green eyes stared at him innocently. Mitch smirked. “What’s the real reason? I know enough about that nurse to know she plans everything ahead. She’d no more elope than you would. And you would no more move in with a man than fly to the moon. I never expected that you’d go for my suggestion.” He stared at her. “What’s changed?”

  Melanie sighed in defeat, and he knew she didn’t really want to agree to his plan, at all.

  “We got a notice that the owners want the top floor for their children, who will be going to school in the fall. They will pay us two months’rent if we vacate immediately so they can do some renovations before fall.”

  She shrugged her slim shoulders before continuing.

  “I’ve been praying and praying that God would lead me in this contest thing. Then this came up. Right after you offered to let me stay there.” Her sigh was not encouraging. “I guess God is trying to tell me something.”

  Mitch stared. “You think He wants you to have this money so badly He’d force you to move in with me? Wow!” He was teasing, but the laugh stopped in his throat as she turned those expressive eyes on him.

  “I think He must be trying to tell me something,” she said quietly. “I’ve been praying for ages and nothing happened. Now suddenly there’s the contest and the opportunity to get some money for Sunset. I get evicted, and there you are offering to share your place.” Her eyes were wide with amazement. “It’s like a small miracle.”

  “I’m not sure…”

  “Besides, there’s nothing between us. Everyone knows that. And I work all kinds of hours. I just need somewhere as a base until I can find another apartment.” Her head tilted toward him as she careened around a convertible full of rowdy teenagers. “So I gratefully accept your offer.”

  “You must know what it’s like to find accommodation in this town.” Mitch added that just to let her know how lucky she was and how magnanimous he was.

  They talked terms and conditions all the way to the beach. Melanie could move in immediately. It would be every man for himself. No cooking, no cleaning, she told him. No garbage, no lewd propositions, he promised.

  Eyebrows raised, Melanie asked what that meant.

  “I only make proper propositions,” he joked, eyeing her heightened color with interest.

  Privately, Melanie wondered what the future would hold for them. Especially after an afternoon of Mitch’s company. Her body hummed from the massaging action of his large hands as he obligingly applied sunscreen to her bare back. His big, strong fingers worked the oil into her skin, and she felt supple and exotic as the fragrance of coconuts wafted around them. Mitch had been insistent that she wear sunscreen.

  “I’ve seen sun damage,” was all he would say. “It’s not pretty.” She was aware of his appreciation of her swimsuit.

  Melanie was flattered that he found her outfit every bit as interesting as before, but she regretted those extra ten pounds she had never shed. Not that they seemed to matter to Mitch. Shortly after rubbing in the oil, he had rushed away for a quick dip in the cold lake.

  “Come on in,” he had teased, dripping frigid drops of water on her toasty skin. He laughed when she shrieked, then razed her unmercifully about her squeamishness until Melanie could stand his teasing no longer.

  “I knew you were a beach baby,” he muttered. One dark blue eye had opened as he lazed on his towel. It traveled the course of her body, following the lines of her swimsuit. “I doubt if that thing even withstands more than a dip in the hot tub,” he added, disgusted. “Afraid of a little natural water, probably.”

  When Melanie refused to answer, he continued the goading.

  “You can’t swim, can you? That bit at the apartment pool was all just a ruse to get my attention, wasn’t it?”

  Melanie had sat up at that, fury wrinkling her forehead as she glared at him.

  “For your information, I don’t need to attract anyone’s attention.” She straightened her spine in haughty disregard. “I would have you know I am an excellent swimmer. I simply refuse to subject myself to that frigid water in order to prove something to you.” She arranged her beach chair more comfortably and leaned back, soaking up the sun’s rays. “I merely wanted some free time away from the office. I would appreciate it if you could let me enjoy the day.”

  Melanie thought she had won their war of words until she heard him mutter something under his breath.

  “Pardon?” she inquired superciliously.

  “I said, you’re chicken, just as I thought.”

  “You know,” Melanie said, eyeing him severely, sunglasses pushed to the end of her nose, “if you ever win in court, it must be because of your bulldog tendencies.”

  She stretched out on her stomach, letting the warming heat of the sun penetrate her skin. There was blissful silence for about sixty seconds.

  “What do you mean, bulldog tendencies?” His voice was strident. “Admit it, you are a chicken.” Big blue eyes glimmered with excitement. “Bok, bok!” He flapped his arms.

  Melanie was getting tired of his ridiculous juvenile games. She looked around the beach and found several pairs of interested eyes trained on them.

  “Stop that,” she ordered angrily. “Everyone is staring at you.”

  Mitch continued to chant louder and louder.

  There was nothing else to do. He would not leave her alone, and she wouldn’t get a moment’s peace until she put an end to this stupidity.

  Melanie stood gracefully and walked to the water’s edge, dipping the end of one big toe into the water.

  “Agh!” She sucked in her breath. It was freezing!

  But when she turned around, Mitch was looming behind her. His eyes met hers, and he mouthed the word chicken.

  Melanie sighed, resigned to her fate and fully aware that he would keep it up until she got wet. She strolled slowly into the water, getting a bit more of her heated skin wet with each step. She turned carefully, trying not to splash, and found Mitch directly behind her.

  “I hope you’re happy.” She glared at him. “I have no feeling below my waist, and my hands are getting numb.”

  He grinned and dived into the smooth water beside her, splashing her hugely. When he stood up, streaming rivulets of chilly lake water running down his face, Melanie let him have it.

  “You did that on purpose, you sadist. I’m soaked and I’m freezing. I do hope you feel better now.”

  She turned to go back to shore and found him blocking her way.

  “I’m sorry, Melanie.” His voice was deceptively soft as his chilly hand closed around her arm. Wide and innocent, his baby blues stared at her soulfully. “I really didn’t know you couldn’t swim.”

  “Of course I can swim, silly,” Melanie told him, trying to stop her teet
h from chattering. She wrapped her arms around her midriff, hugging herself for warmth.

  Unfortunately the motion pushed her full breasts upward, accentuating the cleavage her suit displayed. She watched Mitch’s blue eyes grow rounder in appreciation before she realized the reason. Her hands dropped to her sides in embarrassment.

  His laughing gaze met hers. One black lock of hair dangled boyishly over his forehead. A wide smile slashed across his rugged, tanned face.

  “You are just going to have to get in there and swim a few strokes to prove it,” he whispered in her ear as his hands brushed up and down her arms to warm her.

  Melanie glared at him even as her body recognized the heat flowing from his body. She moved closer. Just to get warm, she told herself. When his arms wrapped around her and she was pressed against the heat of his chest, she groaned at the warmth that was beginning to penetrate her skin.

  “Come on, Melanie, let’s swim.”

  It was the last thing she heard before Mitch’s arms tightened like steel bands and he pulled her under the water.

  Icy cold waves slapped against her and left her with two options: move or freeze to death. Melanie moved.

  Breaking his tight hold on her, Melanie surprised Mitch with a move she had learned long ago in lifesaving class. In a few seconds he was flat on his back and going under. With one last shove, Melanie pushed him to the sandy bottom before swimming furiously away in a speedy crawl that had won her numerous competitions in high school.

  Of course, Mitch demanded retribution. She just had not expected it to be a kiss. And when his cold lips pressed against hers, Melanie found that the fire building between them could not be doused, even by the freezing lake water. She kissed him back, returning his warm embraces until her blood was singing in response.

  Mitch was the first to pull away.

  “Okay, you win,” he teased. “You can swim, and kiss.” He grinned that devilish grin at her. “And you do both very well, I might add.” Turning, he ducked under the water, surfacing twenty yards away to call out his challenge.

  “I’ll race you to the buoys,” he dared her. His strong arms made a swath through the water. “Loser supplies supper,” he told her when she caught up.