Husband In Harmony

She shook her head. “The rains are late this year. It’s been thundering a ways off for the past several evenings, but we haven’t had a drop lately—and the forecast on the radio this morning was for more sunny skies tomorrow. I can take you and Sam out on the lake and give you a few pointers in the fishing department. That’s what I did for years when my great-aunt was still in charge around here—act as a guide on and off when visitors requested one.”

He released what sounded like a resigned breath, then set his jaw, as though having resolved to tackle something he was hardly eager to do.

“All right,” he said.

“Good.” She shoved back her chair and got to her feet. “I keep our extra fishing equipment in the storage room,” she explained with a nod at a doorway off one side of the office. “I’ll pull out what you two need first thing tomorrow and meet you here at five o’clock.”

His eyes widened for a second, then narrowed in a flash. “Five in the morning?”

She held back a smile. “That’s when the fish start biting.”

He let out another breath, pressed a few keys that made the computer screen fade to black and closed the laptop with a snap. “I suppose I’ll turn in,” he said, rising.

“A smart man probably would,” she told him, doing her best to maintain a bland expression.

He picked up the flashlight lying on the desk, switched it on and turned off the lamp. Seconds later he was locking the outside door behind them. As he aimed the flashlight down the gravel path, they walked toward his cabin. At the porch, a faint glow spilled through the front windows, over the rocking chair set beside the door. Several yards away, an owl hooted in the trees, the only sound in the quiet surroundings.

“Well, I guess this is where we part company,” she said.

He flicked off the flashlight. “Want to take this with you?”

She shook her head. “I can do without, especially with the stars out. Even when they’re not, I don’t have much trouble. I know my way around this place.”

He didn’t argue the point. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“At five,” she cheerfully reminded him.

Even in the dim light, she didn’t miss his fleeting grimace before he held out his right hand in an apparent effort to put things back on a businesslike basis. “Good night.”

“Good night,” she said, and placed her hand in his for the first time. As she’d expected, his palm was warm and dry and not at all rough to the touch. What she didn’t expect—despite the ease with which he’d handled the large cooler earlier that day—was the solid strength underscoring his light grasp. Or how the feel of his bare skin against hers would affect her.

Because it did.

Jane dragged in a steadying stream of cool air and pulled her hand away. Get moving, she flat-out ordered herself. And while you’re at it, get your head screwed on straight.

Obeying at least that first command, she turned and continued down the path that would fork off to her cabin. With firm determination to betray nothing out of the ordinary, she didn’t so much as toss a backward glance over her shoulder. Still, there was no denying the blunt truth that she had felt some sort of…attraction, she guessed would describe it. One that all boiled down to male and female. She’d seen too much of nature’s ways to fail to recognize it.

Good grief, for that brief yet humming moment when their palms had touched, she’d been in danger of being bowled over in the most barnyard-basic way by Adam Lassiter—probably the fanciest man she’d ever met. As a plain woman, she knew down to the familiar ground under her feet how foolish that was.

She’d only made a fool of herself once before over a good-looking male, and that was so far back it didn’t really count. Not that she didn’t recall the times she’d let Bobby Breen sweet-talk her into the back seat of his old Chevy convertible. Or how he had moved on when a prettier girl took an interest. Still, she’d survived that stinging rejection and come out the wiser.

All she had to do was keep that in mind from now on when dealing with a slick consultant. He probably wouldn’t be sporting any charming grins come morning, Jane assured herself. More likely, he’d be half-asleep.

She, however, was used to getting up early. And she could be chipper, too, at that time of day. Which she would be tomorrow, she vowed. She wasn’t letting anyone in on the fact that if she and Adam Lassiter had shaken hands during his first visit to Glory Ridge, she might never have encouraged him to spend part of his summer here, much as she needed some savvy business advice.

No, she wasn’t letting anyone know that.

Especially him.

Chapter Three

“Good morning, early risers,” a resonant voice greeted over the airwaves. “We’re still a bit shy of sunrise, folks, but it looks as though yesterday’s weather forecast was right on target. All signs are that it’s going to be another beautiful day in Harmony.”

Adam met that news, delivered by the far-from-new clock radio standing on the bedroom dresser, with a groan. WHAR, one of two stations vying for listeners from among Harmony’s residents, had jarred him out of a sound sleep—and he wasn’t happy about it.

“Why would any fish with half a brain want to put itself in danger of being caught this early?” he grumbled. It didn’t help that he’d spent too long getting to sleep the night before, a circumstance he was inclined to lay at Jane Pitt’s door, for all that it didn’t make a lot of sense.

Whether it made sense or not, he had to admit that something had happened just before she’d headed off to her cabin. Something that had made him aware that she was a woman—and not a prickly one, either.

Adam frowned, thinking back to how he’d watched as she’d disappeared into the darkness, and how, for a few fleeting moments that continued to mystify him, he’d been reluctant to see her go. Logic said that he should have been glad to do without any more of her cheery reminders of the fishing expedition in his immediate future. He should, in fact, have released a grateful breath on her departure. But he hadn’t. Not last night.

His lack of gratitude must be a fluke.

Assuring himself that could only be the case, Adam propped his eyes open and discovered that it was still pitch-black in the bedroom and outside, as well. He stared up at the ceiling, recalling the dream that had captured his mind once sleep had finally claimed him. The same dream he’d had several times in the past, although he hadn’t had it for a while. In it, he strode down a long corridor filled with closed doors on both sides. One by one, he opened them, searching for something—exactly what, he’d never been able to grasp. He only knew that he’d failed to find that elusive something, again and again. The dream always left him with an empty, hollow feeling, and he’d been glad to be free of it.

But now that dream had come back. And he had no idea why.

Resolutely setting thoughts of it aside, he fumbled for the switch on a small bedside lamp and got out of bed.

“To get your day off to a rousing start, here’s an oldie but goodie from the Rolling Stones,” the announcer informed his listeners. The first notes of “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” boomed out, then died to silence as Adam shut off the radio. He took off the gray sweats he was using for pajamas, then pulled on clean underwear and fresh socks, plus the same pair of Levi’s and black denim shirt he’d worn the day before. Once he’d shoved his feet into his new boots, his next stop was the bathroom. He washed his face but didn’t bother to shave, then rapped on the door to his son’s room and poked his head inside.

“Time to get up,” he said, not even attempting a hearty tone. He already knew, thanks to a brief and hardly happy conversation the evening before on his return to the cabin, that Sam was no more eager than he was to crawl out of bed far earlier than either of them was used to getting up. But they were doing it anyway. Adam had been firm on that score. Their spending time together without the frenzied activities of prior summers had been his goal, and if joining forces to haul in a fish could accomplish that, then so be it.

“It’s still dark,” Sam mumbled after turning over and blinking at the hall light Adam had switched on.

“It probably won’t be for much longer,” Adam replied, although he had no idea what time the sun actually rose. Still, given that it was summer, the sky was bound to show some light soon. Cripes, he had to hope so.

“I’ll have breakfast on the table by the time you wash up and get dressed,” he went on, and paid no attention to more mumbling that followed as he headed for the kitchen. A glance at his watch told him that by the time he figured out how to make coffee in the old-fashioned percolator sitting on a stove burner he wouldn’t have much chance to drink it if he planned to meet Jane at the office at five. Which he did. He had no intention of allowing her to be smug about his being late.

Not when she’ll probably be early, he told himself. Even on short acquaintance, he imagined that was a pretty sure bet.

It was still dark after he and Sam ate their twin bowls of cold cereal, mainly in a groggy silence, and left the cabin. Adam again used the flashlight to help him find his way, and they arrived at the office a few minutes before five. As he’d expected, Jane Pitt was already there. What he didn’t expect, however, was the smell of freshly brewed coffee that had his mouth watering from the moment his nose caught a whiff.

Jane sat behind the desk with a thick stoneware mug in hand, wearing a blue and white checked shirt and a frayed navy baseball cap that might have been older than she was. “I see you’re right on time.” She was chipper.

Way too chipper, as far as Adam was concerned. “Actually, we’re a little early,” it pleased him to reply, although he couldn’t match her tone. He doubted many people could at a godforsaken hour of the morning when even the birds weren’t up yet. Standing next to him, small hands shoved into the pockets of his new jeans, Sam only yawned a wide yawn that said he for one remained far from awake, never mind alert.

Jane gave the boy a small, knowing smile, then lifted her mug. “Want another dose of caffeine before we get started?” she asked Adam.

“Sure,” he said. He didn’t mention it would be his first of the day—or that a part of him less determined to let pride rule was urging him to get down on his knees in sheer thankfulness. Instead, he wasted no time in heading for the coffeemaker. He picked up another of the heavy mugs stacked beside it and poured himself a hefty helping of dark, fragrant brew. A few sips had his eyes no longer in danger of drooping.

“This is good,” he told Jane.

She met his gaze over the rim of her mug. “I can make coffee.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He had to admit that it tasted like some of the best he’d ever had.

“I pulled out some fishing poles and other equipment for you and Sam,” she added with a nod toward one side of the room.