After the Storm. Lenora Worth
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some silly notion of a family.
He looked at the windup clock over the stove. Almost ten. Maybe the roads were beginning to dry out a bit. He could go get the doctor at least. It would be good to get out in the crisp, clean mountain air and clear his head.
And his heart.
“The soup was great,” Alisha said later as she shifted on the bed. “I think I should get up and walk around a bit now.”
“I’ll help you,” Jared replied as he hurried across the room. “Do you need to go—”
“Not yet.” She blushed, but managed a smile. “Isn’t it funny, about you and me?”
“Oh, how so?”
Not knowing how to approach the matter, she said, “Well, we’ve been as intimate in some ways as two people can be, and yet, you’re still a stranger to me. Help me up, and then you can tell me all about yourself.”
He nodded. “Okay, but only if you do the same for me.”
Alisha realized her mistake the minute she saw the eager gaze in his dark eyes. She couldn’t tell him about herself. That would be asking for trouble. But even without knowing everything there was to know about Jared Murdock, she knew this one thing. He would want to know. Everything. And she couldn’t tell him anything.
She’d just have to steer the conversation and questions back to him.
Jared pulled back the covers and gave her an arm. “Should I carry you?”
“No, the book—”
“I know, I know. The book says to walk around. But if you’re not able to do that, I can carry you.”
She laughed as she slowly eased her feet to the floor. “What would be the point in trying to walk if you wind up carrying me?”
He gave her a playful look. “I guess that doesn’t make any sense.”
They managed to get her to a standing position. “Whoa. I’m just a bit dizzy.” She held to Jared, acutely aware of the warmth radiating from his touch. “After I walk, I’ll let you drive up the mountain to get the doctor. If you can’t drive it, at least you can walk it in the daylight. It’s about half a mile.” She took a steadying breath. “Most folks will be in church, with it being Easter Sunday. But Dr. Sloane…he doesn’t go to church. You’ll probably find him either in the clinic or at the Hilltop Diner.”
“I’ll get to him, either way,” Jared promised as he eased her along the room. “Want to go into the den and see the yard out the big window?”
She nodded as they slowly made their way up the narrow hallway. When they reached the long, wide den, she took in the room, and felt comforted by what she saw. Jared had straightened things up. The small kitchen lining one wall was sparkling clean, all the mismatched Fiesta-ware dishes placed against the drain and up in the open dish cabinet beside the sink. The crocheted blue-and-brown-patterned afghan she’d knitted years ago was neatly draped over the old patchwork sofa. Her beloved books were stacked in precise rows across the battered old coffee table. A fire was roaring in the fireplace on the far wall, and he’d fixed the door latch. She could still remember hearing the splintering of the wood when he’d crashed through it last night. Thankfully.
Wanting to tell Jared how grateful she was, Alisha debated and decided she’d get too emotional right now if she tried to put her feelings into words. She’d never been good with words, but she’d thank him properly later. So she said, “Oh, that fire feels nice. I see you found the firewood.”
He guided her further into the room. “Yes. Don’t you have any other source of heat?”
“Furnace in the kitchen closet. But I turned off the pilot light since the weather was beginning to warm. Of course, I wasn’t expecting these cooler temperatures the storm brought in.”
“I’ll see if I can relight it so you and the baby will be warm. This should be the last cold snap before spring.”
“I hope so,” Alisha said. “I love spring on this mountain.” She lifted her head to the welcoming fire. “I had the cabin remodeled when I moved in, but there are still some things that need updating.”
“We can certainly agree on that. Why don’t you have a phone?”
Oh, boy. Here he goes with the questions, she thought. What should she tell him? Alisha didn’t like lying, so she decided to tell the truth, but only what he needed to know. “It’s just hard getting service up here. We’re so remote. Getting a phone line almost requires an act of congress.”
That much was true, at least. Of course, she knew the village had most of the modern conveniences, including computers and Internet access, but only a few people living here went all out for that. Alisha wasn’t one of them.
“Well, then we’ll just have to petition Congress,” Jared said. “With a baby, you will definitely need a phone.”
“You’re right. I’ll take care of it as soon as I’m back on my feet and back at work.”
He kept a hand on her arm as they stopped in front of the big bay window that looked out over the front yard. “You work?”
“Yes,” she said, debating how much to tell him while her gaze took in the battered and broken limbs the storm had left all around her yard. “In the village, at the only store in town. Dover Mountain Mini-Mart and Grocery. It’s like a general store—everybody calls it that—or a really small Wal-Mart. We carry a little bit of everything.”
“What do you do there?”
“Whatever Mr. Curtis needs me to do,” she said with a laugh, glad she could tell him that much at least. “I help customers, stock inventory, sell my own homemade jellies and jams and crafts. And bread. I make good bread. There’s some in the cupboard by the refrigerator.”
“Really now? I’ll keep that in mind for lunch.”
She liked the teasing light in his eyes. But she didn’t like the curiosity.
“Tell me about you,” she said by way of changing the subject.
He shrugged, stared out at the dripping trees. “I own—correction—I used to own my own company. Murdock and Purcell Media Consultants. I just sold my half to my partner. He has a new partner already, though.”
Alisha saw the dark light of his eyes. So he didn’t like to talk about himself, either. “What did you do? I mean, who did you consult?”
He smiled then, his rugged features looking younger. “We did the consulting. We had clients who deal in television and radio, the Internet, any form of communication and media. We’d make suggestions to them on everything from advertising to investments.”
“Sounds important.”
He looked down at the African violet she kept on the windowsill. “It was important, to the people who depended on me, and to me.”
“And did you have a lot of people depending on you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why’d you give it up?”
She saw the darkness leap from his eyes, saw the way the smile drained right off his face and turned into a frown. “I got tired,” he replied, the words low and gravelly. “And disillusioned, I guess.”
“I can certainly understand both those feelings.”
He kept his head down, then turned so fast she almost had to step backward. “So…back to your job. Sounds as if you practically run the general store.”
“I try,” she admitted. She wanted to know more about him, but decided she wouldn’t press him for information. He might get suspicious and turn the tables on her. So she told him only superficial things. “I do like to stay busy, and the store is so ancient. No computers, no digital anything.