Consequences

Nothing separated them, actually, but some old timbers and a few feet of space. The man’s personality was so powerful that Lucia felt his nearness in every cell of her body.

In the yard below, he gave June a questioning glance and said something. At her reply he crossed the grass and bent to lift the baby in his arms, holding him close.

June laughed as the tall man kissed the little boy’s cheek, then held him aloft and nuzzled his fat stomach while the baby kicked and squealed with delight.

Jim walked back to the bench, still carrying the baby, and settled next to June with the child in his arms and his long tanned legs extended on the path. The two adults talked casually as Jim cuddled the little boy and watched the older child run and play with the two spaniels.

Something about the scene below brought a painful lump to Lucia’s throat.

The four of them looked so peaceful and surreal in the fading light, like a misty image from some sweet, half-forgotten dream. And Jim’s arms were strong and brown against the baby’s fragile bare shoulders. He looked powerful and protective, as if nothing bad could happen to a child as long as this man was nearby. For no reason at all, Lucia found herself crying. She wasn’t even aware of the tears until she felt them running down her cheeks.

To her alarm, she saw Jim glance up briefly at the window where she sat. There was no way he could see her behind the heavy chintz drapes, but still she drew back hastily and huddled against the wall, dashing a hand across her streaming eyes.

When she peered out again, she saw Jim as he stood up to kiss the baby again, hand him to June and come toward the back door. He paused by the rose trellis and called something to the landlady, then vanished inside the house, leaving his dog out in the yard.

Lucia turned from the window and looked around at her snug little apartment, thinking she should get up and tackle some of the paperwork in her briefcase. But she couldn’t seem to stop crying. Maybe pregnancy had this effect on a woman, unsettled her emotions for no reason.

Soon she would need to visit a doctor and make sure she was eating properly, taking vitamins and doing all the right things. But she would have to go to Austin and she’d have to find a doctor who wouldn’t ask too many questions.

Lucia rubbed at her eyes again and got up from the window seat, then stiffened in panic when she heard footsteps clattering up the last flight of steps to the third floor. Before she could do anything to prevent it, the door opened and Jim Whitley’s curly auburn head appeared.

CHAPTER FIVE

“YOU LEFT the door open.” He stood on the threshold, regarding her with startled concern. “And you’ve been crying again.”

“Go away!” Lucia turned aside to rub angrily at her reddened eyes. “You have absolutely no right to barge in here without knocking.”

“Like I said, the door was ajar. When I reached up to use the knocker, it just opened.”

She hesitated, afraid her voice might break when she tried to speak.

“I leave it that way on hot nights,” she muttered at last, “to let the breeze from the window in the hall into the apartment. But,” she added bitterly, “obviously I can’t do that anymore, since you have no respect for anybody’s privacy.”

“I have all kinds of respect for your privacy, Lucia,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb. “And I’m really very sorry if I’ve embarrassed you.”

He sounded contrite and utterly sincere, but his eyes were sparkling. Lucia glanced at him suspiciously, then gave a brief nod and moved toward the kitchen.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I have some school-funding applications that I need to fill out.”

She seated herself at the table and opened her briefcase in a businesslike, dismissive manner. But he followed and straddled a chair next to her, folded his arms on the back and rested his chin on them, still watching her thoughtfully.

As always, his presence seemed to fill the room. Lucia was sharply conscious of his muscular bare legs almost close enough to touch hers, and the pleasant, clean scent of worn cotton and shaving cream that drifted from him.

“Why were you crying?” he asked.

“I wasn’t crying. Please go away.”

“Come on, Lucia.” He hitched the chair a little closer, still watching her intently. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong. Could you hand me that green pen, please?”

He gave her the pen. “I thought I caught a glimpse of you up here in the window a few minutes ago. You were watching us, weren’t you?”

She opened one of the application forms and tried to concentrate on it, but the fine print blurred in front of her eyes.

Jim put out a tanned hand, covering the page. “I’m not going away,” he said, “until you tell me what’s upsetting you.”

She sighed and looked toward the window. “It’s nothing, really. I just…sometimes I get lonely at this time of the evening. There’s something so melancholy about the setting sun, and those long shadows lying across the ground.”

“You know, I’ve always been just the same way,” Jim said, surprising her. “No matter how good my life is, there seems to be a little time right around sunset when nothing feels worthwhile, and I get flooded with this huge sadness.”

She forgot her annoyance and gazed at him in surprise. “You get those feelings, too?”

“All the time.” He studied her face and reached a hand toward her, then drew it back. “Are you upset about the school board?”

Gratefully, Lucia seized on this. “I’m sure that’s part of it. It’s so awful to know what they’re planning, and that—”

She stopped midsentence, looking down at the papers on the table and wondering how much she should allow herself to be drawn into conversation with this man, no matter how sympathetic he seemed.

“What?” he asked. “You were going to tell me something.”

Again she hesitated. But Lucia seldom had the luxury of a confidant with whom to share her troubles, and, despite all her misgivings, she found herself wanting to tell Jim Whitley things she wouldn’t normally say.

“I feel so responsible.” Miserably, she twisted her ringless hands and studied a chip on her thumbnail. “All those teachers are going to lose their jobs if this happens, and the town will lose its middle school. And everybody knows why it’s happening.”

“They do?” Jim asked.

Lucia gave him a level glance. “You can’t pretend you haven’t heard that Gloria Wall resents me, and she’s launched this whole school-closure program just to spite me.”

“You’re right, I’ve heard that,” he said quietly. “But I wasn’t sure if it was true.”

“Well, I believe it is,” Lucia said. “Of course, Gloria denies it, but I realize she’s never liked me much. I honestly don’t know why, though.”

He leaned back on the chair and laughed, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

Lucia glanced up at him. “What’s so funny?”

Jim regarded her thoughtfully, his smile fading. “You really don’t know why Gloria Wall dislikes you?”

Lucia’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “I think it has to do with her perception that I’m…snobbish, or something. She seems to believe I think I’m better than other people in this town. I realize,” Lucia added when he kept watching her gravely, “that the…the way I behave might have something to do with that. But I can’t change who I am, can I?”

“No, and I don’t think it would help anyway,” he said. “Not even if you started wearing clothes like that to school every day.” He gestured at her khaki shorts, sandals and plaid shirt. “You could even join a bowling league and drink beer down at Zack’s on Friday night with all the cowboys, and Gloria Wall would still be out to destroy you.”

“Why?” Lucia asked with genuine curiosity.

He leaned back in the chair, arms folded, eyeing her with disconcerting steadiness. “Because no matter what you do, Lucia, you’ll always stand out in a crowd. And there’ll always be some women who are going to hate you for that.”

His gaze embarrassed her, and made her uneasy. “Look, I really have to get this paperwork done,” she told him.