“My pleasure, Miss…”
“Lesley Campbell. I go by Ms.” She paused. “How did you know I’m not married?”
“No ring.”
Her thumb absently moved over the groove in her finger where Tony’s engagement ring had once been and she nodded. He wasn’t wearing one, either.
“Do you do this sort of thing for a living?”
“Excuse me?” Chase smiled at her, looking a bit confused.
“Run after crooks, I mean,” Lesley said. “Are you an off-duty policeman or something?”
“No, I work on the Alaska pipeline. I’m visiting Seattle for the next few weeks.”
“That explains it,” she said.
“Explains what?”
She hadn’t realized he’d heard her. “What I was thinking about you. That you’re an open-air kind of person.” She felt mildly surprised that she’d read him so well. Generally she didn’t consider herself especially perceptive.
Her insight appeared to please him because he smiled again. “Would you like to know what I was thinking about you?”
“Sure.” She probably shouldn’t be so curious, but it wouldn’t do any harm.
“You run well, with agility and grace, and you’re the first woman I’ve met in a long while who doesn’t have to throw back her head to look up at me.”
“That’s true enough.” Lesley understood what it meant to be tall. She was five-eleven herself and had been the tallest girl in her high school class. Her height had been a curse and yet, in some ways, her greatest asset. Her teachers assumed that because she was taller she should be more mature, smarter, a leader, so she’d been burdened with those expectations; at the same time, she now realized, they’d been a blessing. She had learned to be both tactful and authoritative, which served her well as a teacher. However, buying clothes had always been a problem when she was a teenager, along with attracting boys. It was only when she entered her twenties that she decided to be proud of who and what she was. Once she refused to apologize for her height, she seemed to attract the opposite sex. Shortly after that, she’d met Tony. It had never bothered her that he was an inch shorter than she was, nor had it seemed to trouble him.
She and Chase were walking back toward the grocery store. “You’re a runner?”
“Heavens, no,” Lesley answered, although she was flattered by the assumption.
As they were standing under the hanging fuchsia baskets, Lesley realized they had no reason to continue their discussion. “I’d like to thank you for your help,” she said, opening her purse and taking out her wallet.
He placed his hand on hers, his touch gentle but insistent. “I won’t take your money.”
“I’d never have caught him without you. It’s the least I can do.”
“I did what anyone would have done.”
“Hardly,” Lesley countered. The lot had been full of people and no one else had chased the mugger. No one else had been willing to get involved. She’d received plenty of sympathetic looks, but no one other than Chase had helped her.
“If you want to thank me, how about a cup of coffee?”
Lesley’s gaze went to the café, situated next to the grocery store in the strip mall. She’d just been mugged, and having coffee with a stranger didn’t seem to be an especially brilliant idea.
“I can understand your hesitation, but I assure you I’m harmless.”
“All right,” Lesley found herself agreeing. Chase smiled and his brown eyes fairly sparkled. She’d hardly ever met a man with more expressive eyes.
When they took a table by the window, the waitress immediately brought menus and rhymed off the specials of the day.
“I’ll just have coffee,” Lesley said.
“What kind of pie do you have?” Chase wanted to know.
The waitress listed several varieties in a monotone as if she said the same words no less than five hundred times a day.
“Give me a piece of the apple pie and a cup of coffee.”
“I’ll take a slice of that pie, too,” Lesley said. “I shouldn’t,” she muttered to Chase when the waitress left, “but I’m going to indulge myself.” She’d forgo the gourmet ice cream in favor of the pie; later she’d drown her blues in a 1990s Meg Ryan movie, where love seemed to work out right and everything fell neatly into place just before THE END scrolled onto the screen. If ever there was a time she needed to believe in fairy tales, it was today.
“Sure you should,” Chase said.
“I know,” Lesley said, straightening and looking out the window as she thought about the reason she was pampering herself. To her embarrassment, tears flooded her eyes. She managed to blink them back but not before Chase noticed.
“Is something wrong?”
“Delayed shock, I guess,” she said, hoping that sounded logical, and that he’d accept it without further inquiry. Funny, she could go weeks without dwelling on the pain and then the minute school was out and Tony and April weren’t around anymore, she started weeping.
“It’s just that today was supposed to have been my wedding day,” she blurted out. Lesley didn’t know what had made her announce this humiliation to a complete stranger.
“What happened?” Chase asked softly. His hand reached for hers, his fingers folding around hers in a comforting way.
“Oh, what usually happens in these situations. Tony met someone else and…well, I guess it was just one of those things. The two of them clicked, and after a whirlwind courtship, they got married. They both seem happy. It’s just that…” Her voice faltered and she left the rest unsaid.
The waitress delivered the pie and coffee and, grateful for the interruption, Lesley reached for her purse and took out a tissue. “My friends forgot that today was the day Tony and I’d chosen for the wedding.” She sighed. “In retrospect, I don’t know if I miss him as much as I miss the idea of the wedding. You know, starting off our marriage with this beautiful celebration, this perfect day.…”
He nodded. “And?”
“And I guess I became so involved in getting ready for the wedding that I didn’t realize how unhappy and restless Tony had become. When he asked for time to think about everything, I was shocked. I should’ve known then that something was really wrong, that it wasn’t just pre-wedding jitters. As it turned out, it was good old-fashioned guilt. He’d met April—Oh, we all work at the same elementary school,” she explained.
“Teachers?”
Lesley nodded. “Anyway, he was attracted to April, and she was attracted to him, and the whole thing got out of control.… I’m sure you get the picture.”
“Yes, I do. It seems to me that your friend’s a fool.”
Lesley laughed, but it sounded more like a hiccup. “We’re still friends, or at least he tries to be my friend. I don’t know what I feel—not anymore. It all happened months ago, but it still hurts and I can’t seem to put it behind me.”
“It’s only human that you should feel hurt and betrayed, especially today.”
“Yes, I know, but it’s much more than that. Tony felt terrible and with all of us working together, well, that just makes it more difficult. I asked the school district for a transfer but when Tony heard about it, he asked me not to. He didn’t think I should disrupt my life and why can’t we still be friends, blah, blah, blah. The problem is he feels so guilty.”
“As well he should.”
“I knew I was making a mistake, but I withdrew the request.” Lesley wasn’t sure why she was discussing her broken engagement, especially with a stranger. It felt better to speak of it somehow, to lift some of the weight of her unhappiness.
Lesley lowered her eyes and took a deep breath. “Listen, I’m sorry to burden you with this,” she said in a calmer tone.
“No, you needed to talk and I’m honored that you told me. I mean that. Have you been seeing anyone since?”
“No.” Lesley sliced off a bite of her pie. “Lately I find myself feeling cynical about relationships. I’m almost convinced love
, marriage and all that simply aren’t worth the effort—although I would like children someday,” she added thoughtfully.
“Cynical, huh? Does that mean you don’t date at all? Not ever?”
“I don’t date and I don’t intend to for a long time. I’m not feeling very sympathetic toward men, either. On the way to the store just now, I saw the most ridiculous billboard. Some guy’s advertising for a bride, and instead of feeling sorry for him, I laughed.”
“Why would you feel sorry for the guy?” Chase asked. He’d already finished his pie and was cradling the ceramic mug of coffee with both hands.
“Think about it. What kind of man advertises for a wife? One who’s old and ugly and desperate, right?”
“What makes you say that?”
“If he can’t find a wife any other way, there must be something wrong with him. If that isn’t cause for sympathy I don’t know what is.”
“You think the women who respond will be old and ugly, as well?” Chase asked, frowning. “And desperate?”
“Heavens, I wouldn’t know. I don’t understand men. I’ve tried, but I seem to be missing something. Tony was the only man I ever considered marrying and…well, I’ve already told you what happened to that relationship.”
“In other words, you’d never think of dating a man who advertised for a wife?” Chase asked.
“Never,” she assured him emphatically. “But my guess is that he’ll get plenty of takers.”
“The old coot’s probably lonely and looking for a little female companionship,” Chase supplied.
“Exactly,” she agreed, smiling as she mentally envisioned the man who was so desperate he’d advertise for a wife. “Like I said, I couldn’t even feel a little empathy for the guy. That’s how cynical I am now.”
“Yes, you told me you laughed.” He paused. “You think other women will laugh, too?”
Lesley shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps.” Women like herself, maybe. The jaded and emotionally crippled ones.
“How long will you be in town?” she asked, deciding to change the subject. This conversation was becoming uncomfortable—and it wasn’t revealing her in the best light.
“Another two and a half weeks. I can’t take city living much longer than that. The noise gets to me.”
“You’ve been to Seattle before?”
“I come every year about this time. I generally visit the Pacific Northwest but I’m partial to San Francisco, too. By the end of my vacation I’m more than ready to return to the tundra.”
“I’ve heard Alaska is very beautiful,” Lesley said conversationally.
“There’s a peace there, an untouched beauty that never fails to reach me. I’ve lived there all my life and it still fascinates me.”
Lesley was mesmerized by his words and the serenity she sensed in him. “What town are you from?”
“It’s a little place in the northern part of the state called Twin Creeks. I doubt you’ve heard of it. I won’t kid you—the winters are harsh, and there isn’t a lot to do for entertainment. By mid-December daylight’s counted in minutes, not hours. By contrast, the sun’s out well past midnight at this time of the year.”
“Other than your job, how do you occupy yourself in the dead of winter?” It fascinated her that someone would actually choose to live in such an extreme environment.
“Read and study mostly. I do a bit of writing now and then.”
“I guess you’ve got all the peace and quiet you need for that.”
“I do,” he said. “In fact, sometimes a little too much…”
They’d both finished their pie and coffee and the waitress returned to offer refills. Lesley didn’t entirely understand his comment, and let it pass. This was probably the reason he came to Seattle every year, to kick up his heels and party. Yet he didn’t look like the party type. His idea of the urban wild life was probably drinking beer in a hot tub, Lesley thought, smiling to herself.
“What’s funny?”
Lesley instantly felt guilty. She was being more condescending than she’d realized. Chase was a gentleman who’d kindly stepped in to help when all those around her had chosen to ignore her plight.
“Thank you again,” Lesley said, reaching for the tab.
“No,” Chase told her, removing the slip from her fingers, “thank you for the pleasure of your company.”
“Please, picking up the cost of your pie and coffee is such a little thing to do to thank you for what you did. Don’t deny me that.”
He nodded, giving it back to her. “On one condition.”
Lesley left a tip on the table, then walked over to the cash register and paid the bill before Chase could change his mind—and before he could set his condition.
“What’s that?” she asked, dropping the change in her coin purse.
“That you have dinner with me.”
Her first inclination was to refuse. She wasn’t interested in dating and hadn’t been in months. She’d told him as much. She wasn’t ready to get involved in a relationship, not even with a man who was a tourist and who’d be out of her life in a few weeks. Besides, he was a stranger. Other than his name and a few other details, what did she know about him?
He must have seen the doubt in her eyes.
“You choose the time and place and I’ll meet you there,” he suggested. “You’re wise to be cautious.”
Still she hesitated.
“I promise I won’t stand you up the way Todd did.”
“Tony,” she corrected. “And that’s not exactly—” She stopped, amused and frustrated that she found herself wanting to defend Tony.
“One dinner,” Chase added. “All right?”
Lesley sighed, feeling herself weakening. If she declined, she’d be stuck watching Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks in her sweats in front of the TV—and probably gobbling ice cream straight from the container, despite the pie she’d just had. The image wasn’t a pretty one.
“All right,” she said, with a decisiveness she didn’t feel. “Six o’clock, at Salty’s at Redondo Beach.”
“I’ll make reservations.”
“No,” she said quickly. “Not Salty’s.” That had been her and Tony’s restaurant. “Let’s try the Seattle waterfront. I’ll meet you in front of the aquarium at six and we can find someplace to eat around there.”
His smile touched his eyes as he nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Two
Chase Goodman stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. He’d turned on the television and was standing in the bathroom doorway listening to snippets of news while he dried his hair.
He dressed in slacks and a crisp blue shirt, hoping Lesley didn’t expect him to wear a tie. Gray slacks and a decent dress shirt was as good as he got. A regular tie felt like a hangman’s noose and he’d look silly in a bow tie. He didn’t usually worry about what a woman thought of his appearance, but he liked Lesley.
That was the problem. He liked her, really liked her. The hollow feeling hadn’t left his stomach since the moment they’d parted. It was the kind of sensation a man gets when he knows something’s about to happen, something important. Something good.
He liked that she was tall and not the least bit apologetic about it. He preferred a woman he didn’t have to worry about hurting every time he held her. His size intimidated a lot of women, but obviously not Lesley. She had grit, too; it wasn’t every woman who’d race after a mugger.
Objectively, he supposed, Lesley wasn’t stunningly beautiful nor did she have perfect features. Her face was a little too square, and her hair a dusty blond. Not quite brown and not quite fair, but somewhere in between. Maybe it wasn’t the conventional pale blond most guys went for, but it reminded him of the color of the midnight sun at dusk.
Her eyes appealed to him, too. He couldn’t remember seeing a darker shade of brown, almost as dark as his own.
Chase was physically attracted to Lesley and the strength of that attraction took him by surprise. It confused and uns
ettled him. He’d come to Seattle to find himself a wife, had gone about it in a direct and straightforward manner. You couldn’t get more direct than renting a billboard! And yet he’d met Lesley by complete chance. Not only that, his billboard clearly hadn’t impressed her, he thought wryly.
Nonetheless, he wanted to develop a relationship with Lesley, but he was worried. Lesley was vulnerable and hurting just now. If he romanced her, even convinced her to marry him, he’d never be certain he hadn’t taken advantage of her and her battered heart. Even worse, she might feel he had. Regardless, nothing could dampen his anticipation of their evening together. That was all he wanted. One evening, and then he’d be better able to judge. Afterward he could decide what he was going to do. If anything.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Chase reached for the TV remote and turned up the volume, hoping the newscaster would take his mind off the woman who attracted him so strongly. Not that it was likely. Not with that swift emotional kick he’d felt the minute he saw her.
“Hiya, doll,” Daisy Sullivan said, letting herself into Lesley’s place after knocking a couple of times. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Daisy lived in the house adjacent to Lesley’s rental and had become one of her best friends.
“Sit down,” Lesley said, aiming an earring toward her left ear. “Do you want some iced tea?”
“Sure, but I’ll get it.” Lesley watched as her neighbor walked into the kitchen and took two glasses from the cupboard. She poured them each some tea from the pitcher in the fridge. “I’m glad to see you’re going out,” Daisy said, handing Lesley one of them. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to spend this evening alone.”
Lesley felt warmed at this evidence that someone had remembered today’s significance. “The date slipped by Jo Ann and Lori.”
“So what are you doing? Taking yourself out to dinner?” Daisy was nothing if not direct. Her neighbor didn’t have time to waste being subtle. She attended computer classes during the day and worked weekends as a cocktail waitress. Lesley admired her friend for taking control of her life, for getting out of a rotten marriage and struggling to do what was right for herself and her two boys.