For the Love of Ivy - Cindy Kirk Page 0,39
recently.
“Evening, Mrs. Barbee.” Seth rocked back on his bootheels, looking remarkably relaxed. “Happy New Year.”
“Happy New Year, Seth.” The woman’s icy disapproval thawed under the rancher’s boyish charm. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. I hope to see you and Ivy in church on Sunday.”
Seth grinned. “Barring any more unforeseen calamities, we should be there.”
“What about you, Lauren?” The woman pinned her with a beady-eyed gaze. “Will you be there?”
Taking her cue from Seth, Lauren smiled warmly at the woman. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
Unfortunately, the effect was ruined when the words came out in a squeak. She cleared her throat to try again. But Loretta Barbee had already spun on her heel and gone back inside.
“Happy New Year,” Lauren called to the now-shut door.
“I’m afraid she can’t hear you.” Seth grinned. “On the plus side, that means she can’t hear us. For that we should be very, very glad.”
His ghoulish whisper brought a smile back to her lips as she climbed into the truck. Even though she was positive—well, almost positive—Loretta was gone, Lauren waited until Seth was back in the driver’s seat before speaking. “Had you noticed her standing in the shadows?”
“I didn’t.” Seth shifted and pointed the truck toward home. “I wasn’t surprised to see her. That woman has a knack for showing up where you least expect her.”
He flipped the heater to high and warm air filled the cab of the truck.
Lauren settled back against the seat and banished the pastor’s wife to the far reaches of her mind. Perhaps it was the two beers she’d drunk. Or the fact she and Seth were finally alone. Whatever the reason, she felt wonderfully content.
She loved parties, loved seeing and talking to everyone, loved reconnecting with old friends and making new ones. But she liked this kind of one-to-one conversation, and being part of a couple, more.
Okay, so she wasn’t really part of a couple. Still, when she was with Seth, the connection seemed more personal than just business. When they were home with Ivy at the kitchen table or reading books in front of a fire, it was as if she was part of a family, his family.
It was a household vastly different from the one she’d grown up in. When Ivy talked, Seth listened. He always appeared genuinely interested in what the little girl had to say, and that interest extended to Lauren, as well. She’d never had such a home life. Her parents had always talked at her rather than to her.
“Penny for your thoughts.” Seth’s words broke through her reverie.
Lauren shifted in her seat to face him. “I was just thinking how much I enjoy being part of your family.”
A look of surprise crossed his face.
“This has been such a great break for me,” Lauren said quickly, backtracking.
“Are you still planning to take a position on the East Coast?”
“That’s the plan.” Lauren resisted an urge to sigh. “My father has a lot of contacts and he’s been putting out feelers.”
“Adam Nordstrom is at Brown.” Seth’s eyes remained on the road. “Do you see him fitting into your future plans?”
They’d long ago left the lights of Sweet River behind. In the dimness of the truck cab, it was difficult to read Seth’s expression. Lauren shrugged. “Hard to say. One thing’s for sure, my father would approve.”
Her lips couldn’t help but curve into a smile. Another black mark against Adam.
“Your dad would hate me.”
Lauren tried to envision her father and Seth in the same room. The picture refused to come into view. Probably because she knew the meeting would never happen. “It doesn’t matter what he would think of you.”
“Why do you say that?”
She met his gaze. “You’re unavailable.”
“You’re right.” Seth spoke brusquely. “It doesn’t matter.”
Lauren had the feeling she’d offended him, though she wasn’t sure how. Before she could ask he punched a couple of buttons on the steering wheel and turned up the radio volume. The station was a popular one, playing “all love songs, all the time.”
The smooth tones of Barry Manilow filled the cab of the truck. Lauren leaned back and let the music wash over her. Back-to-back Barry tunes were interspersed with several commercials. Lionel Ritchie had just begun to sing when Lauren saw it.
Up ahead.
On the edge of the road.
A dark shape just to the right of the headlight beams. The size of a bag of laundry.
“What is that?”
When Seth glanced her way she pointed to the object. They were still too far away to identify it, but when it moved, fear shot