don’t need to bother.” Cody reached past her, placed his hand on the refrigerator door and shoved it closed. “Edna will be here in a few minutes. She’ll take care of making breakfast.”
“Edna?” Cody’s arm had actually brushed against her shoulder when he leaned past her. He smelled of soap and mint mouthwash. The memory of his body covering hers on the living-room floor was still very fresh in her mind.
“Edna Powers is our cook and housekeeper.”
Buck’s voice interrupted her thoughts about Cody.
“She’s worked for me for almost ten years, ever since…” His voice, not strong at best, trailed off as the emotion clouded his face and choked his words. “Ever…ever since I lost your mother and you.”
It’s a real pity you wouldn’t hire some help before my mother worked herself to death. Maybe if you had she’d still be alive today. The words had popped into her head, uninvited and too strident even to Mel’s own ears.
Cody watched her face contort in anger. A glance at the other side of the table told him that Buck had not noticed. He wondered what was going through her mind. Exactly what had happened between Buck and his daughter? He had never really understood why Melanie Winslow left home and left her father at a time when he most needed the closeness of family, especially his only child. Buck had said very little about it and had never uttered a harsh word about his daughter.
“Where’s your stuff? In the trunk of your car?” Cody held out his hand toward Mel. “Give me your car keys.”
She quickly jumped to her feet. “I’ll help you. I have my camera equipment and notebook computer as well as my luggage.” She was not yet ready to be alone with her father. Everything she had anticipated and prepared for had refused to materialize. This man was very far removed from the cold, unfeeling monster of a person she had carried in her memory for all these years—that man she had been prepared to do battle with. But now that she saw him…
She followed Cody out of the house. When they reached the front porch, he came to an abrupt halt and whirled around. Melanie bumped into him before she could stop herself. His rock-hard body made it seem as if she’d run into a stone wall. He grabbed her shoulders to keep her from falling at the same moment that she put her hands against his chest to steady her balance. Even though she wanted to believe it was so, she knew it was more than the accidental collision that had knocked the breath from her. Once again his body was pressed against hers. Once again she felt the stimulating warmth caused by his touch.
“Camera…notebook computer…luggage.” He released his hold on her and took a step back, wanting to put a little distance between them. He had not intended for them to come into physical contact again, at least not like this and certainly not here and now. “Does this mean you plan to stay for a while?”
She also took a step back, putting even more distance between them. “I don’t know. I guess I hadn’t really thought that far in advance.” She found his nearness to be irritating, uncomfortable, very disconcerting—and almost unbearably exciting.
“You must have had something in mind when you showed up here. You claim you didn’t know about Buck’s health, so that must not be the reason.” He furrowed his brow as he folded his arms across his chest. “Just what is it you want? Why are you here?”
The gray predawn sky was giving way to streaks of red and gold. The chilly early-morning air cut through her lightweight jacket, causing a shiver to crawl across her skin. Perhaps staying in the kitchen with her father would have been preferable after all. She pulled together more composure than she actually felt. “I don’t owe you any explanations. Now, are you going to help me with my things or do I need to do it myself?” Well, that said it all. Whether it had been her original intention or not, she had just committed to staying at least until the next day.
“Okay, you win this round. But we’re not through with this yet.” He fixed her with a hard stare. “I won’t allow you to upset Buck. Until I know what your game is, I’ll be watching your every move. All you have to do is look over your shoulder and you’ll find me.”
He unfolded his arms and turned toward her car. He was not through with Melanie Winslow, not by a long shot. To create a scene right now would only upset Buck, and that was the last thing Cody wanted to do. He had noticed the way Buck’s color had improved, the way his physical condition seemed to perk up around his daughter.
Neither of them spoke as they unloaded the car and carried her belongings into the house. She preceded him down the hallway toward her old bedroom. She reached out for the doorknob, then hesitated as the sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. What in the name of all that was rational and logical was she doing? When had she lost control of what was happening? How had things suddenly become so twisted around that her overbearing father once again had control of her decisions?
Cody noted the hesitation in her actions, then the frantic look on her face when she turned toward him. He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow in a questioning manner. “What’s the matter? Did you leave something in the car?”
“Uh, no, I have everything.” She gathered her courage, opened the bedroom door, flipped on the light switch and stepped three paces inside the room before stopping.
Her gaze traveled around the bedroom, quickly taking in the entire scene, then returning to do a more thorough appraisal. It was just as she had left it. Obviously it had been cleaned on a regular basis, but the same bedspread lay on the bed and the same curtains covered the windows. Her early efforts at photography were still framed and hanging on the walls. Her bookcase still held her schoolbooks. The picture of her mother still rested on the nightstand. A wrenching tightness knotted in the pit of her stomach. All the old memories, all the old feelings—
“Are you going to stand there forever?”
Cody’s interruption startled her. She spun around to face him. “I…it’s been a long time…”
He saw it on her face and in her eyes. It was certainly not what he had expected. It was not the hard, defiant edge of a tough woman that she had tried to project since her arrival. Once again he saw the same little girl who had stood just inside the door of the parlor, looking so confused and in need of comfort.
“Would you rather stay in another room?” He didn’t know exactly where the question had come from. It just sort of popped out of his mouth. He certainly hadn’t been aware of any conscious desire to make things easier for her—not this woman who had caused his good friend so much despair and hurt.
Mel only half heard his question. She walked across the room to the nightstand, set her notebook computer and camera bag on the bed, then picked up the photograph of her mother. She had left the house so quickly that she had packed only one suitcase with the basic necessities and nothing else. When she realized that she had not packed the photograph of her mother she had almost gone back to get it…almost. She’d had to make do with the picture she carried in her memory and in her heart.
Cody carried her three suitcases into the room and placed them next to the closet. He certainly recognized the picture she was holding. It was the same photograph Buck had next to his bed, along with Melanie’s high-school graduation picture. He had not seen it so much then, not from the comparison of two photographs, but now he realized just how much Melanie looked like her mother. He wanted to say something to her, but didn’t know what to say.
Cody left the bedroom, left Melanie alone with her thoughts and memories, and returned to the kitchen. Edna had arrived
