clothes once again.
Pondering the ambiguities of a strange man hanging around the neighborhood—was he dangerous or merely simpleminded?—Linda took a quick shower. Without giving much thought to what might be appropriate clothing for a visit to a man’s carpentry shop—and perhaps for eating a burger with him and his daughter—she pulled on a full-skirted, Hawaiian-print sundress. With sandals on her feet, she brushed her long hair and fluffed it around her face. A little lipstick and a little blusher finished the job. She was ready to leave again.
But first she would take Tippy for a short walk. He probably had to go outside by now.
It was Alfred’s big chance. The kids had either gone indoors or to the other side of the building. Linda, with Tippy on his leash, left the apartment and walked down the street.
But Alfred was already in his motel room, still feeling all creepy crawly because of that horrifying snake.
“My God, my God,” he groaned hoarsely every time he thought of how close to a painful death he had come today. He had to get hold of that book and out of Montana before he lost his mind.
Or his life!
In good weather Tag worked in his shop with the door open so he could keep an eye on Samantha playing in the backyard. During winter months he brought her inside to the corner playroom he’d built expressly for her use. She was rarely out of his sight, although he had come to rely on Rumor Rugrats, the preschool and nursery started by Susannah McCord, his soon-to-be sister-in-law. She and Russell, Tag’s oldest brother, were presently in China. After a lavish party to announce their engagement, they had traveled to the country to finalize the adoption of a young Chinese girl. When they returned with their daughter, they would be married.
Today Sammy wasn’t Tag’s only concern. He kept looking at his driveway and at the street, watching for Linda. She would come, wouldn’t she? Darn, he should have set a time for her arrival. He could have asked, “What time is best for you tomorrow?” He could have said, “I’m going to be on pins and needles all day until you get there.” He could have said, “I’m not sure what to call this feeling I have for you, but it already seems to be a permanent part of the man I am.”
Tag shook his head wryly. He should not have said anything more than he had. He had invited Linda to look at his work and have an informal meal with him and Sammy. Anything else would have been overkill, possibly a turnoff for a woman with Linda’s intelligence. She had said yes, that she would come by, and he should stop acting like a lovesick half-wit and believe she kept her promises.
His current project was a headboard for Samantha’s new bed. About a month ago Tag had decided she was ready for a full-size mattress, and the little girl loved the grown-up bed he had bought for her. But he hadn’t purchased a headboard. That, he would build himself. It was reaching the finishing stages, and today he worked on smoothing the wood with fine sandpaper until it felt like satin to his fingertips.
This kind of work was perfect for a man with a lot on his mind. Linda was at the center of his thoughts, but why wouldn’t she be when she was the first woman he’d met since Mel’s death who reminded him that he was still young, still virile and living like a monk?
Tag had grown up in the loving, wealthy household of the Kingsley family, and from an early age he hadn’t wanted to get involved in the family business, which included the MonMart chain of retail outlets and a large cattle and horse ranch. Carpentry was his passion, and around the time he’d broken the news of his career choice to his father, he’d also learned his high school sweetheart, Melanie, was pregnant.
To support his burgeoning family, Tag studied carpentry as an apprentice and took any job he could find. He’d known early on what was important in life—his daughter Samantha, his wife Mel and his work.
Unfortunately, Mel’s substance abuse problem, which had begun in high school worsened, and she died of a drug overdose. Tag felt as if he’d failed both Mel and his precious daughter. He’d lived in a cloud of despair ever since.
Meeting Linda seemed to have parted the clouds and let the sun in. Small wonder he was excited about her coming by today, he thought.
When he heard a car pull into the driveway, his heart skipped a beat. Dusting his hands with a clean cloth, he stepped out of his shop. Samantha immediately left her toys and went to stand by her daddy.
Linda got out of her SUV and sent a smile to father and daughter. “Hello,” she called.
“Hello,” Tag said, and taking Samantha’s little hand in his began walking toward the incredible woman in the brightly colored dress who had not only kept her promise to come by but had arrived looking ravishingly beautiful. Every feeling that had been born yesterday intensified in Tag’s system. He knew pretty much what to call that burning ache: he was falling very hard, very fast for Linda, and God help him if she didn’t feel the same about him.
She walked toward him and Sammy as they walked toward her. Linda’s gaze darted from Tag to his daughter and back again. His child was beautiful and so was he. A choking sensation rose in Linda’s throat; something serious was happening to her, something that she was afraid to label or even attempt to understand.
“Thanks for coming,” Tag said. “This is Samantha…or Sammy. Samantha, this is Ms. Fioretti.”
Linda bent over to be closer to the beautiful little girl. “Hello, Samantha,” she said softly.
“Hello,” the child said shyly.
The feelings flooding Linda’s system almost brought tears to her eyes. This child touched her soul, and if love at first sight was more than just a dream devised by romantics, then it had just struck her straight in the heart.
“I would like it if you called me Linda,” she said.
“Okay.”
Linda straightened and deliberately looked beyond Tag and Sammy, as she feared her eyes might be just a little too shiny.
“You have a very nice place,” she said. Then she spotted the sign above the wide door of the carpentry shop. “Carpenter for Rent,” she read aloud. Smiling again, she looked at Tag. “Are you really for rent?”
“For the right person, any time of the day or night,” he said softly.
A tingling thrill went up Linda’s spine. He meant her, she realized. He meant that she was the right person and that he was available if she wanted him.
“Sammy, I’m going to show Linda the shop. She’s interested in some bookcases. I’d like you to go back to your dolls for a while, sweetheart. We’ll take care of business first, then we’ll make those burgers.”
Tag had spoken to his daughter, but his eyes were saying a thousand other things to Linda. What was so unusual about this exchange was that she couldn’t seem to break eye contact with him, although, in all honesty, she wondered if she really wanted to. The air seemed electrically charged. With each breath she took, the stirring sensations in the pit of her stomach became more pronounced.
“Okay, Daddy.” Sammy smiled shyly at Linda, then turned and ran off to her sandbox.
“Tag, she’s wonderful,” Linda said in a voice made husky by emotion. “You’re very fortunate to have her.”
“I know.” The pupils of his eyes became darker.
