very generous of you, Stick. You mean you forgive me for busting up your baseball bat?”
His forehead furrowed. “How did you do that? I’ve always wondered.”
“Nothing to it. I just carried it down to the tracks and waited for a train to come by, then tossed the pieces back in your yard.”
He shook his head, one corner of his mouth curling up. “Guess we should’ve let you play, huh? I almost did, but the other guys never would’ve let me forget it.”
“I didn’t think about that.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
She stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed, his eyes crinkling up around the edges. “There’s that brat again.”
It was perhaps the first time he’d ever actually laughed at her. Picking at her napkin, she tried not to read too much into it, but she couldn’t help asking, “So, you ever going to forgive me for gluing your car keys to your locker door?”
“Not a chance.” He wagged a finger at her. “Do you have any idea what that cost? I had to replace the ignition module to get a working key for the car, not to mention the locker door.”
She jerked up onto the edge of her seat. “They made you replace the locker door?”
He suddenly seemed uncomfortable. “They didn’t make me exactly.”
“But you did it anyway,” she surmised, shocked. “You must have because they didn’t make me do it.” She’d sat in two weeks of detention, but nothing had been said about financial reparation.
For several seconds Reeves sat very still. Then he tilted his head slightly and confessed, “It wouldn’t have hurt me to give you a ride that day. I never figured you’d walk all the way to school in the rain. I just thought your grandmother would take you.”
“She wasn’t there that morning,” Anna told him, “one of her committee meetings or something.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. She instantly took pity on him, saying, “Look, it’s not your fault. I could have called someone else, but after you said no, I was so mad I just struck out on foot. Later, when you dropped your keys, well, I couldn’t resist.”
He shook his head, saying softly, “Kids do stupid things.”
“Yeah, well, I think I probably did more than my fair share.”
He looked up from beneath the crag of his brow. “I think you probably did, too.”
She tried for outrage but wound up spluttering laughter. He joined in, and it was perhaps the first moment of real camaraderie they’d ever shared.
“So,” she asked, making small talk, “what were you up all night working on?”
“Aw, we’ve got this big negotiation with a new fuel provider. I was putting together the figures, trying to estimate their costs and our—” He broke off suddenly, his eyes going wide. “The figures!” He smacked himself in the forehead with the heel of his palm. “They’re in my laptop, which I left at the house! Oh, man.” On his feet before he’d finished speaking, he started for the door.
“What about your roll?”
“Uh, you eat it. I’ve gotta run. Sorry. I’ll, uh, be seeing you.”
“Right. Later. Maybe,” she said, her voice waning as he rushed out the door.
After a moment she turned back to contemplate the coffee in her mug, wondering what had just happened. Had she and Reeves Leland actually taken a step toward putting the past behind them? If so, then what else might be possible?
She was afraid even to contemplate the answer to that question.
Irritated, Reeves quietly let himself into the house via the front entry hall. He never left his laptop behind, but he’d just been so frazzled this morning. If only Gilli hadn’t awakened in the same petulant mood that she’d gone to sleep in, he might not have forgotten the thing. Sneaking about made him cringe, but he took care to walk softly just the same. The last thing he wanted was for Gilli to see him and pitch another fit for him to stay home—as if he could! He had almost passed by the open door of the front parlor when the sound of his own name brought him to an abrupt halt.
“Reeves is perfect!”
Well, that was nice to hear, but what followed knocked the breath out of him.
“He’s perfect for Anna Miranda! I can’t believe I didn’t think of this earlier.”
“Now, Tansy,” Aunt Hypatia said, an edge to her voice that none of her nephews or nieces would dare to ignore, “don’t get carried away. It’s just a thought, a matter for prayer. Odelia was simply mentioning a possibility in passing, one she would have done better to keep to herself, obviously.”
“There must be something I can do,” Tansy went on, ignoring Hypatia. “Anna never has more than a few dates with a fellow. If I leave it to her, she’ll never marry.”
Reeves had his doubts about that. Plenty of men were bound to be interested in a woman as attractive and clever as Anna Miranda. Just not him. True, he’d seen a different side of her this morning, a compelling side, but she had demonstrated that the brat was ready and willing to reemerge at a moment’s notice, and he had no intention of dealing with that. Best to nip the idiotic notion in the bud right now. Sucking in a deep breath, he strode through the doorway.
Hypatia winced as Odelia exclaimed with innocent delight. “Reeves! We were just talking about you.” Red enamel hoops a good two inches wide dangled from her earlobes.
“So I heard.”
Mags asked warily, “Shouldn’t you be at work?”
Reeves gave her a frown. “Yes, and I would be if I hadn’t left my laptop in my room.” He settled a narrow look on Tansy Burdett, adding, “Fortunately.”
“Reeves, dear,” Hypatia began apologetically, “please don’t think—”
“No, no,” Tansy interrupted, getting to her feet. “Do think about it. You need a wife. My granddaughter needs a husband.”
Reeling from that pronouncement, Reeves watched as she drew herself up to her full height, which must have been all of five feet, including the tall thick heels of her brown pumps and the helmet-like perfection of her chin-length, pale yellow hair. Slight and angular, with sharp features and faded blue eyes, she wore a white cotton blouse and a straight skirt beneath a boxy jacket.
“And that’s all there is to it?” he scoffed, incredulous.
Lifting her chin, Tansy met him eye to eye and proclaimed, “You’re a good Christian man with a sound head on your shoulders, despite the mistake you made the first time around. Besides, Anna Miranda’s always had a thing for you.”
Now that was absurd. Anna Miranda had a thing for him, all right. He’d always been her favorite target, a butt for jokes, a subject for pranks, an object of ridicule.
“I have no intention of marrying again,” Reeves said to
