Dreams Don't Wait

chapter 5





After a night of watching shadows play across the ceiling, Evan slept late. She caught a glimpse of Linc closing his office door seconds before she left for work. He gave her a cool nod. She stepped outside and leaned briefly on the door before hurrying to catch her bus.

She was grateful he was planning to wait until tonight to give her the bad news. Halfway up the drive, she glanced back. The knot in her stomach—it hadn't left her chest since Linc's declaration last night—tightened. The big house—Maud, Jenny—had too quickly come to symbolize home, and it had been a long time since she'd felt anything close to the warmth she found here. She'd miss it—miss them. So would Cal. Quickening her pace, she swallowed and turned to pace up the long driveway. Sometime in her busy day, she'd make plans, start searching out an apartment.

That night Linc wasn't home, and the next day he left on an unscheduled trip to San Francisco. He'd be gone, he'd told Maud, until the following Monday. That week the last of the workmen left. The house was finished.

Evan looked for an apartment all week and, by the time Linc was due to return, had two possibilities. One of them, the most expensive, was nearby, close to the university. She hadn't yet told Cal they were moving, not wanting to face his disappointment. He was happy here. She'd never seen him so happy. For a minute she stopped peeling the potatoes and stared out the window.

If she hadn't kissed Linc that night in the library, none of this would have happened. If she were the only one who reaped the consequences of her action, it wouldn't hurt so much. But Cal...

"There's a call for you, dear." It was Maud. "A Mr. DeLisle. He said something about the apartment you'd called about?" Her voice was questioning, and a frown creased her forehead.

"Oh. Yes. Thanks." As Evan started to pick up the phone, Cal came in. He ambled to the fridge, and she froze. Glancing at Maud, she said. "I'll take it in the library."

Maud's frown deepened.

"Mom, when you're finished, why don't we go see the cabin? You haven't been down there since we got here. You should see what—"

"Later, Cal. Would you finish this for me"—she nodded at the potatoes—"while I take this call?" She hurried from the room. No way was she going to see the cabin. Not now. And she sorely wished Cal hadn't. Ignoring his grimace of disgust when she handed him the paring knife, she turned and left the room.

* * *

"Can't you hold it until, say, tomorrow... six-thirty? I'm sure I can make it by then... I see... They've already given you a deposit?... No, I didn't know... Yes, well, I'm sorry, too, Mr. DeLisle; the apartment would have been perfect for us... Yes, uh-huh... I understand why you couldn't wait. Thank you for calling." With a sigh, Evan hung up the phone.

When the door slammed behind her, she jumped, her right hand reflexively going to her chest.

"What in hell do you think you're doing?" Linc stood in the doorway, suitcase in one hand, briefcase in the other, looking like an avenging angel. A very angry one.

"I was using your phone. I hope you don't mind. I don't usually come in here uninvited, but—"

He dropped the suitcase to the floor. It's thud hit her ear like a shout. "You can come in here anytime you please. That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it." He came toward her, unceremoniously dumping his briefcase on the desk behind her. They were toe to toe.

"What's this about an apartment?" He glared at her. "I thought we had a deal. Has something happened to change that?"

"I thought—"

"No. You didn't think. You were running. From this."

With no hesitation he gripped her shoulders and pulled her against him. His mouth took hers in an impatient, blinding kiss. His lips were firm, his body rigid and unyielding. When the kiss started to deepen, soften, he took a step back, his hands biting into her shoulders. Evan gasped, her hand going instinctively to her lips, touching the reminder of his heat.

"What ..." She couldn't finish the question. Linc's kiss had melted it to an indecipherable inkblot on her muddled brain.

"What was that?" he finished for her. "Call it an object lesson. To help you put things in perspective." He dropped his hands from her shoulders and walked to the other side of the desk. He picked up some mail and started to thumb through it, supremely casual, for all the world as if he hadn't kissed her like a madman mere seconds ago.

She found her voice. "An object lesson?"

He gave her a bland look, then returned to his mail. "I thought you should know I'm quite capable of kissing you without making further demands."

"I don't understand," she said. What she meant was, I don't understand you.

"No. Then I'll try to be more clear. I hired you as a part-time baby-sitter—not a mistress. If you'd have been agreeable.. " To finish the sentence, he shrugged his perfectly tailored shoulders. "But you made it plain you weren't, and believe me, I understand 'all connotations' of the word no." His look was dark, ironic. "I can find ways to ease whatever sexual frustration you cause me. If you can do the same, there's no reason our original agreement shouldn't stand." He gave her an intense stare. "You can, can't you?"

"I can what?" This conversation was so bizarre, she was having trouble keeping track.

He let out an impatient breath, tossed the unopened mail on his desk, and planted his hands on his hips. "I asked you if you could deal with your sexual frustration." The barest hint of a smile sifted across his lips and was gone.

"Are you serious?"

"Never more so. Well, can you or can't you?"

"Of course I can, but—"

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a couple of calls to make before dinner." He picked up the phone.

When she didn't make any move to leave, he glanced at her, cocking one eye questioningly as he started to dial.

With one last stunned look at him, she turned on her heel and left the room.

When the door closed behind her, Linc slammed down the receiver. In two quick strides he was at the doors leading to the patio. He stepped outside and sucked in some air.

You're nuts, Stewart. You come back here primed to ask her to leave, and what do you do? You practically order her to stay. Not only that, you kiss her—pull her closer—when the best thing for both of you is for her to run, run as far and fast as those shapely legs of hers will take her.

He rubbed distractedly at the back of his neck. He wanted a cigarette. He wanted peace and quiet. What he didn't want was a damned woman. They were trouble, nothing but trouble. For a moment his whole body tensed and he cursed silently. He was only half right. He didn't want a woman—any woman. He wanted Evangeline North.

And she doesn't want you. Case closed.

* * *

"Mom, how about it? Want to go see the cabin? You've got to be at least a little curious. You haven't been down there since the weekend we came here." Cal picked up his dishes and headed to the dishwasher.

Evan lifted her head at the same time Linc raised his. Their eyes met briefly. She hesitated, Linc's taunt about handling her sexual frustration coming front and center. I can handle it, all right. What I'm not sure of is handling you.

Linc was still watching her. She met his cool blue gaze directly as she answered her son. "Sure, why not? I am curious." Plus it seemed a very good idea to get out from under those laser eyes of his.

"Coming with us, Linc?" Cal asked.

"Cal, I'm sure he's tired or has work to do," she added quickly.

"Neither." Linc tossed his napkin on the table and rose. "I'll show you the security system. Get it over with."

"Security system?" Evan echoed. "You put in a security system?"

"Seemed like a good idea to me. The cabin is away from the house, and it's dark down there. I like to protect what's mine."

"Can I come, Daddy?" Jenny piped up.

He swung her up and into his arms, smiling as he planted a kiss on her nose. "Wouldn't go without you, little one."

"Maud? How about you? Want to see the almost finished product?" he asked.

"No, thank you, Lincoln. I'll see it on the weekend when Evan and Cal move in. I think I'll call Marion. Mother's having a bad week, and I want to check on her."

Linc nodded. "Anything I can do?"

Maud shook her head. "I think it's pretty much in God's hands now, son, but thank you."

* * *

Cal and Jenny quickly moved ahead of them, and Evan found herself alone with Linc on the long path leading to the cabin. He made no effort at conversation, so to hide her tension, she decided to satisfy her curiosity about Maud. She'd use any means to stifle her sharp awareness of Linc strolling easily beside her.

"How did Maud come to live with you? I get the feeling there's a history between you?"

He gave her a sideways glance. "What makes you say that?"

"I don't know. There's something about Maud, something refined, sophisticated. She doesn't strike me as your average housekeeper."

"You're perceptive. She's not." He lapsed into silence. When it seemed he was making it a permanent state, he spoke again. "For most of my growing-up years, she lived next door to us." A faint smile curved his lips. "She pretty much raised me and Caressa. It seemed like that anyway. We spent as much time at her place as we did at home."

Knowing, from Caressa, that she and Linc grew up in the affluent Richmond area of San Francisco, his comment made her even more curious.

"What happened? Being your neighbor, Maud must have had some income."

"You mean how did she sink so low on the social scale as to become a mere housekeeper and baby-sitter?" There was more than a touch of derision in his question.

Evan colored. "That was thoughtless of me. Forget I asked."

As if she hadn't spoken, Linc went on, "When Maud's husband died, he left her penniless. He'd gone through his fortune and hers. There was nothing left. They'd never had children. I don't know why, and I never asked. That's Maud's business. But I suspect it wasn't her choice. From the moment I wandered into her backyard, I adored her. And she made no effort to hide the fact the feeling was mutual. I practically lived at her house."

She shot him a glance. "Why?"

"Why?" he repeated. "Because she made time for me, and Caressa, when no one else did. While Mother busied herself being hostess of the year, Maud listened to my childish prattle as though it was the wisdom of the ages. She was... well, she was there, that's all. When I heard she was widowed, I went to see her. It took some effort, but when I finally got the truth out of her about her financial situation, I bullied her into looking after Jen. After her mother's less than caring attitude, I thought Jenny could use a little—make that a lot—of Maud's kind of warmth."

Evan was intrigued and couldn't resist asking, "And what about you, Linc? Is that what you want? Warmth?"

The personal question caught him off guard; he shot her a shadowy glance. "I did—once. Not anymore. Why do you want to know?"

They stopped in the middle of the path, facing each other. Evan tilted her head back to look up at him. She opted for honesty. Taking a fortifying breath, she plunged ahead.

"Maybe because you fascinate me, maybe because I need to understand you, or maybe because I want to be clear about what you said in the library. The thing is, both of us have an agenda. Yours is a busy, successful career—and Jenny. Mine is Cal, school, and personal freedom. Don't misunderstand me. I love Cal more than anything in the world, but I've been a mother, a nurturer and breadwinner for most of my life." She looked directly into his attentive blue eyes. "I'm not Maud, Linc. Not even close. Part of me wishes I were, but I know better. You shouldn't be interested in a woman who is looking forward to the time in her life when she can be completely selfish."

They were getting close to the cabin, so she stopped, wanting to finish, wanting him to understand. And in a weird way wanting to make peace with him.

"The thing is, I like you, Linc," she said, "I like you a lot." Her smile was slight. "Although I'm not at all sure why, because you're exactly as Caressa described you, difficult, quick-tempered, unpredict—"

He raised a hand. "I get the picture."

She tipped her head. "What I'm trying to say is, I want to stay here, but I don't want to live in the middle of a cold war. You on one side, me on the other."

The wind came off the ocean and swirled around them, blowing tendrils of hair across her face. She brushed it aside, and held it, never moving her eyes from his.

His expression cool, unreadable, he started again toward the cabin.

Evan stayed put. "I don't want anything from you, Linc—except what we agreed on. The cabin. And I don't want you to want anything from me—except child care."

He turned back to her. "Until that last statement, I was ready to applaud your honesty, but you're a damn poor liar, Evan. But for what it's worth, I agree to a... detente," He touched her cheek." If only to see the frown leave your face–although I'm not certain either of us knows what we're missing." He dropped his hand from her face, and his smile was quick, sexy and strangely wistful.

While the shadow of his touch warmed her face, his smile kindled a blaze somewhere near her heart. She smiled back. "You're a devil, Lincoln Stewart."

Linc noticed that she didn't deny being a liar, which made him oddly lighthearted. "And you, Evangeline North, are one of the most refreshing women I've ever met." He restrained himself from touching her again. "Now shall we go see the cabin?"

* * *

As they approached the cabin, Cal called out from ahead. "I'm going to take Jen to the point, Mom. She wants to do some crab-hunting. I'll be back in a minute."

She smiled, waved at them both, and was delighted when Jenny waved back. Every crack in the child's reserve toward her was like a surprise gift, making her feel warm and accepted. Not good, she told herself, taking the first of three steps to the cabin's porch. It wouldn't do to get caught in Jenny's charming web any more than her father's.

Linc's hand was on her back as he followed her to the door, his gesture courtly as he opened the door and nodded briskly for her to go ahead of him.

Evan stepped across the threshold and gasped in amazement—and delight. The cabin was transformed. The old logs gleamed golden under fresh coats of lacquer. The floor, now solid and strong under her feet, was refinished. Two large oval area carpets in varying shades of rust and blue covered the dark shine of its planking. The kitchen area boasted shiny new appliances and warm pine cupboards. The bathroom was completely refurbished. Linc's renovations went well beyond making the space livable. The cabin was filled with country warmth and cottage charm.

She turned shocked eyes to him, to find him watching her reaction with undisguised interest.

"This is amazing. I'm... speechless."

"For once." His mouth quirked upward.

Evan smiled, but didn't answer. Instead she walked toward the stone fireplace, running her hand along the back of a rust-colored love seat as she did so. It was either new or freshly upholstered; a matching wing-back chair sat opposite. Their scale was perfect for the small cabin. Bookshelves lined the fireplace wall. She touched them and looked back at Linc.

"As I said, I'm speechless."

"You like it, then?"

She shook her head, then lowered it.

"You don't like it?"

"No. I—" She lifted her face to his. He'd see the shine of tears in her eyes, but she didn't care. "I love it. I adore it. I'm mad for it. This is going to be the best year of our lives, Cal's and mine. Absolutely the best." She touched his arm. "Saying thank you doesn't seem enough. It's beyond beautiful, and the first real home Cal and I have ever had. I'm grateful." She smiled, squeezed his arm, glanced up at him—and withdrew her hand.

Linc watched her carefully. For the briefest moment he thought she was going to kiss him, give him one of those perfunctory appreciative pecks that great-aunts give to young relatives. At first the thought annoyed him; then it warmed him when he realized why she hesitated. She knows damn well she—or maybe you—wouldn't want to stop, and the kind of appreciation we really want from each other, we'd only be able to find in a bed.

His thought the perfect lead-in, he said, "Let's take a look at the bedrooms. Cal's isn't quite finished. I'm adding a new window there and enlarging the closet, so it's still a bit of a mess, but yours is done."

He opened the door, and Evan looked inside, and for what seemed a very long moment made no sound. Finally, she sighed deeply.

"Oh, my God. What can I say?" Her eyes scanned the room—the brass bed with dark rose linens, the rocking chair, the pine chest at the foot of the bed, new casement windows with fringed pull-down blinds.

She sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at him. "I'm not going to cry, but damned if I don't feel like it. You've performed a miracle—and in only two weeks. I can't believe it."

He leaned in the doorway. "I had help."

"Caressa?" she asked.

"She sent that talented but, rather dramatic assistant of hers over. She wandered around, tsk-tsked, a couple of times, and came back with a plan and color scheme. All the time proclaiming she really didn't do cabin kitsch. Whatever the hell that is. Caressa picked the furniture. It came yesterday."

"She didn't say a word."

"She wanted to surprise you."

She looked at him, her voice concerned. "The thing is, do you like it? I mean I'm only going to be here for a year." Her eyes widened in a look of nervous suspicion. "You didn't do this just... for me, did you?"

He watched her face turn pink. "I told you. I paid a lot for this place, and I want it in top condition. I have an investment to protect." The instant he said the words, he knew he was lying. Consciously or unconsciously, he had done it for her, because the truth was, his investment would have been better served if he'd bulldozed the place. The revelation didn't please him, and he frowned.

Evan's face went from pale pink to a full blush. "Right," she mumbled, standing awkwardly beside the bed. She shot him a glance as she smoothed the bed linens. "I wonder what's keeping the kids."

And I wonder how I'm going to keep my hands off you. If he was going to live by his words in the library, he'd better start working at it. Pulling his eyes from her, he said, "They're probably still at the beach. If you're finished here, we should get back. I've got a briefcase to sort through and a couple of letters to write."

She nodded.

He took another good look around the cabin on the way out. "If you like, you can move in this weekend. I'll be entertaining this Saturday. It will probably be quieter away from the main house."

At the bottom of the stairs, she again touched his arm. He looked down into the warmth of her smile. "Thank you, for the cabin... for everything."

This time he nodded.

God, he loved her easy smile.

* * *

When Linc said he was entertaining, it was no intimate dinner for eight. It was an extravaganza. Close to a hundred people made up the guest list. And by Friday afternoon Maud was asea in a storm of preparation, while making it seem effortless. The effort was beyond Evan's understanding. It was entertaining on a lavish scale with which she was completely unfamiliar. She doubted she even knew a hundred people she could invite to a party, and smiling wryly as she glanced at Maud's endless lists, she decided to keep it that way.

She was on her way to the cabin with the last of her things when she passed Maud in the kitchen. Tonight she and Cal would sleep in their own place, and she couldn't wait. While Linc had kept his word, and his distance, it was increasingly uncomfortable being here. He'd been home all week, only leaving today for a quick business trip to Vancouver. He was due back tomorrow on the afternoon ferry. By then she'd be safely ensconced in her new home.

"Almost finished the move?" Maud nodded at the clothes in Evan's hands.

"Yup. A few cosmetics and I'm done. How about you? Are you beginning to see daylight?"

Maud smiled, put down her pen, and took off her reading glasses. "Almost, but right now I'm in desperate need of coffee. You?"

Evan draped the clothes she was carrying across the back of a chair. "Sounds good. I'll get it." She poured two mugs and joined Maud at the round kitchen table.

"What time do the caterers come tomorrow?" Evan asked.

"Let's see." Maud put her glasses back on and consulted a list. "Housecleaning service at eight-thirty, windows at ten..." She scanned farther down the list "Here it is. One-thirty. Same time as the gardener."

"Sounds like you have a very busy day tomorrow."

"A piece of cake," she said. "As long as I don't lose these." She waved a sheaf of lists. "Oh, and I fixed a plate for Cal when he comes home after work tonight. I know he plans to go straight to the cabin, but he should eat. Do you want to take it with you, or shall I keep it here for him?"

Evan put down her coffee. "That makes it official—you're the world's biggest softie." She grinned. "Keep it here. He can eat it when he comes to get his things, but if you keep feeding that teenage hollow leg of his like you do, I warn you, you'll never get rid of him."

"That's fine by me—and Jenny. We're both a little in love with him, you know."

"Only a little? "

Maud laughed and sipped her coffee. The radio played softly in the background as silence settled between them.

"I'm glad things worked out between you and Linc, Evan. And I'm glad you're staying on."

Evan looked up from her coffee. She'd never said a word to Maud about... the thing... between her and Linc.

"You needn't look so surprised. I'd have to live in the broom closet not to see the tension between the two of you."

Uncomfortable now, Evan rubbed a finger along the rim of her coffee mug. She considered denying it, but it wasn't possible. Lies and evasions didn't belong in a conversation with Maud. When she said nothing, Maud reached over and touched her hand.

"It's all right, dear. I know," she said.

"Maud, I—"

"If I were thirty years younger, I'd be falling in love with him myself." That bomb dropped, Maud calmly sipped her coffee.

Evan glanced quickly around the room as if to ensure there was no one listening. "Maud! Why on earth would you say a thing like that?"

"Because it's true?" Maud tilted her head.

"But it's not true. Not true at all."

"No?"

"You've completely misread the situation."

"Then what exactly is the situation?" Maud gave her a benign look.

"You see, Linc and I don't—that is, I want to—and Linc wants— There was this, uh, misunderstanding... and well, I thought—" She stopped abruptly.

"Yes?" Maud prodded in silken innocence.

Evan took a deep breath and calmed herself. "The thing is I am not in love with Linc."

"I didn't say you were."

"But that's exactly what you said."

"I said you were falling, dear. And you are. You just haven't admitted it yet. Although I have no idea why. Linc's perfect for you, and you're perfect for him. And Jenny adores you." Maud picked up her coffee cup and took it to the sink.

"I'd like to know what's in that coffee you're drinking? Jenny barely tolerates me, and you know it."

"Really?" Maud came back to the table and sat down. "So whose lap was she sitting on before dinner tonight, telling us that outrageous story about her mythical dog? And who just had to put her to bed tonight, and who is she making cookies with tomorrow morning?"

Okay, so her relationship with Jenny had improved, but it was a long way from adoration. Jenny still balked at doing what she was told. And if Jenny did have affection for her, it had evolved reluctantly, as had her own growing attachment to Linc's blond and precocious daughter. Damn! She didn't need this, any of it. Jenny was four years old. She'd need years of care, a mother's devotion. Evan couldn't give her those years. Wouldn't give her those years.

"It's true, and you know it. You've been tough on her, but she loves you anyway. Even Linc's noticed."

This was news. "He has?"

"He said just the other day that you and Cal have been a good influence on her."

Influence, he'd called it. Evan cringed, knowing full well that if Linc had witnessed the strained confrontations she'd had with his daughter, he'd be outraged. And she'd be out. She was positive, when it came to his precious Jenny, Linc's opinions about a firm hand hadn't changed.

"There's no need to frown. It's all quite wonderful. Of course, it will take Lincoln time to admit his feelings. I'm afraid he finds it difficult since—"

Evan stood abruptly. "I'm going to the cabin now. If you need any help, give me a call. But be warned I haven't had much experience preparing buffets for Victoria's finest, unless, of course, they'd be impressed with cheese and crackers."

Maud watched her stalk to the door. "Evan," she called, her voiced holding an edge of authority.

Evan hesitated, one hand on the doorknob. "Uh-huh?" she said, determinedly noncommittal.

"Linc is falling, too, dear. I know him. All it would take would be a few soft words."

"Maud—" Evan snapped her mouth shut. "I've got to go. I'll see you tomorrow."