The Best Bride. Сьюзен Мэллери
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double bed stood next to a window looking out on the side garden where roses had grown into a tangled disarray of blossoms. A single nightstand and a long dresser took up the rest of the space in the room. There was a half-open door and she could see through to a bathroom.
“This will be perfect,” she said.
“Mandy’s been sleeping upstairs.” He set her on her feet. “She can stay there, or I can dig up a cot for her in here. It would be a little crowded, but—”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure Mandy is happy where she is.”
“I’ll go get your luggage.” He disappeared back the way they’d come.
Elizabeth settled on the bed and touched her healing incision. Just three days ago she’d arrived in Glenwood, hoping to make a fresh start. Many things hadn’t worked out the way she’d planned, but they were getting better. She could feel it. She had to get on with her life. It was the only way to put the past behind her.
* * *
Travis looked at the empty plate on the table, then at Elizabeth. “Are you done?”
She laughed and patted her stomach. “Yes, thanks. It was wonderful. Here you had me believe you didn’t know how to cook.”
“I’m okay with omelets,” he said, and carried the plates over to the counter. “And I know my way around a barbecue, but other than that, it’s just me and the microwave.”
“I can make French toast,” Mandy announced proudly from her place opposite her mother.
“I know, darlin’. You made it for me this morning.”
“How long did it take you to clean up the mess?” Elizabeth asked.
Travis rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. “About an hour.”
She looked at him and smiled. “Amazing, isn’t it?”
“I found eggshells everywhere.”
“He ate four pieces,” Mandy said.
“Good,” Elizabeth said, but he could see she was more tired than enthused. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her smile wasn’t as bright as it had been that morning when he’d brought her to the house.
He wiped his hands and turned toward the table. The kitchen had been the first room he’d remodeled. That had been before Julie had left. She’d picked out the cream tiles edged in blue flowers, and she’d been the one to insist on bleached oak cabinets. He’d wanted a more traditional kitchen but he had to admit her taste had been better than his. The rectangular room was bright and airy, despite an overabundance of storage and the large subzero refrigerator and six-burner range.
“Mandy, let’s put your mama to bed. Then you can help me clean up.”
“But it’s early yet,” Elizabeth said.
“You’re dead on your feet.”
“I can’t be. After you left, I had a nap. I’ve only been up for—” she glanced at her watch “—three hours.” She punctuated her observation with a yawn.
Mandy laughed. “You’re tired, Mommy.”
“I guess I am.” Elizabeth braced her arms on the table and slowly pushed herself to her feet. Travis moved closer, but she waved him off. “I made it to the kitchen under my own power, I think I can make it back.”
“Have it your way.”
She took small steps. Mandy dogged her heels, and he brought up the rear, ready to jump to the rescue in case she slipped. Her nap wasn’t the only thing she’d done while he was gone all afternoon. She’d also showered and changed clothes.
The shorts and tank top had been replaced by a loose-fitting summer dress. It dipped low in front and back and, as he had served his famous vegetable omelet, he got a flash of cleavage. He hadn’t seen where the tan ended and her pale skin began, but the peek had more than stirred his interest. He’d spent most of dinner giving himself a stern talking-to.
Elizabeth was his guest. Despite his claim to want to be paid for the room, he would no more take her money than he would hurt Mandy. He was simply temporary shelter and the only friend she had in town. He couldn’t take advantage of her, or the situation. It wasn’t right. If he wanted a woman, there were plenty in town to oblige him. He’d never once had a problem finding company.
As she turned down the hallway, the last rays of sun caught the thick braid hanging down to her shoulder blades. Her hair gleamed with rich color, brown and gold with a hint of red, so different from Mandy’s pale blond hair. Had Elizabeth’s hair once been that color, turning darker with age, or had Mandy inherited her hair color from her father?
They reached the bedroom. Elizabeth sank onto the bed and smiled at her daughter. “I’m going to rest here for a few minutes before I get ready to sleep. Why don’t you kiss me good-night now and then go help Travis in the kitchen.”
Mandy reached up and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you, too, honey.”
“I’m glad you’re not in that old hospital anymore. Tomorrow can you come upstairs and look at my room?”
“We’ll see.” Elizabeth stroked her daughter’s head, then glanced at Travis. “Thanks for everything. I really appreciate it.”
“Just being neighborly,” he said from his place in the doorway.
“Hardly, but I do appreciate everything.” She motioned to the room, and then smiled at her daughter. “I don’t know what I would have done—”
He cut her off. “All you should worry about now is getting better. Leave the rest of it alone. Come on, Mandy. Your mother needs to sleep.” He held out his hand.
Mandy looked from him to her mother. “But, Travis, aren’t you going to kiss Mommy good-night, too?”
Elizabeth looked up at him, obviously startled. Her big eyes got bigger and her lips parted slightly with surprise. But she hadn’t flinched.
He pushed off the door frame and slowly approached the bed. Her gaze never left his. “I do my best work under pressure,” he drawled.
“I’ll bet,” Elizabeth muttered, then looked away. “Look, you don’t have to—”
“Mommy, you need to be kissed good-night,” Mandy said, and bounced on the bed. “It’ll make you feel better. Travis made me feel better when he gave me a kiss. I didn’t have even one bad dream last night.”
“Simply medicinal,” he said.
“What’s mecidinal?” Mandy asked, struggling with the strange word.
He didn’t take his gaze off Elizabeth’s face. Color steadily climbed her cheeks. She glanced at him, at Mandy, at her fingers twisting together in her lap. He approached the bed and bent over.
“It means doing something for medical purposes,” he said. “Like taking medicine.”
He rested his hands on her shoulders. Their eyes met. Mandy asked another question, but he couldn’t hear all the words. Elizabeth’s irises were a pure brown, almost chestnut colored. Her sweet breath fanned his face. His stomach tightened in anticipation, which, he told himself, was stupid. She’d just had major surgery, her six-year-old daughter sat inches away. He was simply going to give her a quick peck on the cheek. So what was the big deal?
But he didn’t kiss her cheek. He moved his head to the left side of her face, but at the last minute veered back and brushed his mouth against hers.
He’d expected some kind of attraction.