minutes later, she paid for a pair of slim-fitting pants, a tunic-length sweater and a chunky silver necklace to wear over it.
A very sulky teenager followed her out onto the sidewalk. “Where am I supposed to shop?”
“The Everett Mall is only forty-five minutes away.”
“Everett!”
“Bellevue Square isn’t much over an hour. Surely some of those friends who used to pick you up every morning will come up here and get you once in a while.”
“Oh, right.” Nicole flung herself into the passenger seat of the car and slumped down, her expression tight. “They’re supposed to drive for almost four hours just to see me.”
Once behind the wheel, Teresa studied her daughter. She looked and sounded so unhappy Teresa reached out and stroked her hair. “Sweetheart—”
Nicole averted her face. “Oh, please. Spare me the lecture about making the best of it.”
Teresa hesitated, then started the car. Maybe, determined that her children be as happy about the move as she’d been, she had been insensitive to Nicole’s misery. On one level, she understood it; on another, she didn’t at all. She hadn’t been as social a creature as her daughter was. At that age, she’d been absorbed in her books and her studies and her ambition for the future. She’d had friends of course, but she didn’t remember missing them all that much when she went off to college. Probably she wouldn’t have missed them any more if her family had moved.
And here she’d been accusing Nicole of being self-absorbed. Maybe, Teresa thought ruefully, she was the selfish one. She’d convinced herself that the kids would be better off in small-town America because this was what she wanted for herself. She still thought this was a better place to raise children—but maybe Nicole was already too formed by her environment to adjust. Maybe, along with the veterinary practice and the farmhouse, Teresa had bought her daughter unhappiness.
The thought was an unsettling one.
IT WAS STILL on her mind on Friday as she dressed for her date with Joe Hughes. Nicole hadn’t been happy to hear that her mother was going out with the logger and that she was condemned to baby-sit her little brother. It didn’t help when Teresa pointed out that Nicole would have been sitting home, anyway.
Realizing her mistake immediately, Teresa tried to amend it. “You haven’t picked up any baby-sitting clientele yet—”
“How can I? I don’t know anybody.”
“Why don’t I put up a notice for you at the clinic?”
Nicole lifted one finger and traced a dispirited circle in the air. “Wow.”
“Joe mentioned brothers and sisters. Maybe they have kids.”
“Mom.” Nicole waited until her mother turned to look at her. “I don’t care if I baby-sit. I don’t need the money. There’s nowhere to shop, remember? Nobody to shop with? Okay?”
Teresa gritted her teeth at the snotty tone, but decided to let it pass. This time.
She ended up wearing the outfit she’d bought in town that day with Nicole. If Joe showed up in a suit and tie, she’d whisk back into the bedroom and exchange the leggings for a calf-length gauzy skirt.
As it turned out, he wore jeans and a plaid sports shirt that echoed the extraordinary blue of his eyes. His eyes took in her appearance with one swift assessing glance and returned, obviously approving, to her face.
“Do you like Mexican food? I thought we’d go to La Hacienda here in town.”
“Love it,” she assured him, standing aside. “Joe, I’d like you to meet my kids. Nicole, Mark, come here.”
He shook hands solemnly with both, didn’t remark on Nicole’s teenage sulkiness and agreed with Mark that soccer was a popular sport in White Horse.
“One of my nieces plays select soccer,” Joe said. “She’s darn good. They go to tournaments all over the state.”
“That’d be cool.” Mark’s eyes were wide.
Briskly Teresa ended the preliminaries. “See you, guys. I don’t know what time I’ll be home.”
In the pickup, Joe said, “I feel a little guilty leaving them behind. I could feed them, too—”
“No!” she exclaimed, then saw his surprise and amusement. She made a face. “Nicole’s driving me nuts,” she admitted. “I need a break.” There was more, of course. The moment she’d answered the door, she’d remembered why she’d wanted so badly to go out with this man. The fantasies she’d indulged in this past week had not included her children.
“You ought to talk to Jess. Her oldest is, uh—” he obviously had to calculate “—twelve going on thirteen. She’s been a pain in the butt lately.”
“Maybe I will. Tell me, how many nieces and nephews do you have?”
“Uh…” More calculations. “Seven. Lee has four, Jess two and Rebecca one. Although she’s expecting another.”
“And you all live here in town?”
He offered her that heart-stopping grin. “Pretty overwhelming, huh?”
Had she sounded rude? She would have liked to see her own sisters and their families more often, but…
“My younger sister was so nosy,” she said. “Still is.”
“My mother is the nosy one.” His big shoulders moved. “I ignore her.”
Teresa could imagine that. His rock-solid steadiness was part of what attracted her, but it wouldn’t make him a flexible man. So to speak.
“You don’t have any kids?” She hoped her question sounded casual.
“Never been married.” The statement so carefully held no inflection it should have stopped her from commenting. It didn’t.
“You’re kidding.”
Joe shot her a glance. “Why’s that so surprising?”
“Because you’re, ah…” Fumbling for words, she settled for the truth. “You’re a hunk. I can’t believe some woman didn’t snap you up.”
“Like a tasty fly?” he asked wryly.
Teresa couldn’t resist it. She chanted, “There was a young woman who swallowed a fly…”
“And now she’ll die?” he concluded.
Of happiness, maybe, Teresa thought, but had the sense not to say.
“I guess the whole analogy is a little—” she grinned “—distasteful.”
He groaned. “Oh, God, a woman who likes puns.”
“Didn’t someone say it’s the
