Instructions for Love (21 page)

Her mind filled with questions, and she hurried to her car.

She drove to T-Fred’s, exchanged greeting with few people inside, and was happy to see T-Fred spying her and then heading for the same table where she’d eaten with Dane. Erin met her there.

“You’re alone today?” T-Fred asked, looking disappointed. “Where’s Dane?”

Unable to start with pretense, Erin asked, “Was he married?”

A grim set came to T-Fred’s mouth. “I’m not surprised that he didn’t tell you about it. He never talks about Anna.” She shook her head. “They were only married a little over a year and always looked like the happiest couple. And then a defect in her heart suddenly took her.”

Erin gasped, pain squeezing through her heart for his anguish. “How awful.”

“It was. Nobody thought he’d ever get over it.” T-Fred’s face softened with a smile. “And then you came along.”

The reality of what Erin learned sank in, her heart plunging even lower, aching for the young woman whose life had held such promise and for the pain Dane now bore.

“Hey, T-Fred, can I get a refill?” a man called from his table.

“Sure, be with you in a minute,” she told him. She returned her attention to Erin. “Let me get you something. Our shrimp and corn soup is to die for.”

A sad smile spread on Erin’s lips. She wasn’t hungry, but she was here in T-Fred’s diner. “I’ll try it, but only a cup.”

“You made a wise choice.” T-Fred swooped off.

How wisely, Erin wondered, had she chosen? She had remained around the man living in her aunt’s plantation home, even though, she now realized, he’d been grieving. She recalled her first day at the plantation when she’d asked whether he had a wife, and he’d reacted as though she’d punched him before he said no. The pain he bore was excruciating, obviously, but he hadn’t wanted to show it. It seemed that Dane hadn’t wanted to face that pain yet. Instead, his usual reaction to daily events was anger.

He was angry at the world, Erin decided, sympathizing. But deep in her heart, she knew he would only heal once he moved passed that fury,
after
he allowed the anguish of losing a loved one to fully sink in.

She ate the soup T-Fred brought her, enjoying its flavor and creamy texture, paid for her lunch and went off.

Driving down the curvy shell road to the plantation, Erin felt loneliness washing through her. A young couple could be laughing while entertaining friends beneath that huge oak with the hammock, brick barbecue pit and table. Children could be running though the vast yard and around that large porch. The dormer windows in the attic attracted Erin’s eye, where one or more children could have a bedroom and be peeking through, watching everyone’s arrival.

With a great feeling of loss, Erin parked in the driveway. She wished Dane’s truck would be here. Leaving her car, she wondered why her inner vision hadn’t set Tilly and Cliff out here with children. Erin shrugged off that concern, telling herself Tilly had been past child-bearing age when she married.

But the scenes Erin’s mind had just painted included Dane as the happy husband and father.

“Just let it go,” she told herself to release the confusion. Erin wandered around the lawn. She stared up at huge trees, surprised to see green clusters holding pecans that might soon ripen. Her heart skipped with excitement when she found large goldfish swimming in the black vat under another tree. Delight filled her when she discovered tiny lavender and pink wildflowers in other areas. She sat on a tire swing hanging from a branch and twirled, spinning back toward the driveway, each time hoping to find Dane’s truck approaching.

“I’m just lonely.” She left the swing. Not enough noise. Too few people. She meandered farther, considering Tilly’s request for her this day. Relax. “Oh sure,” Erin said, scanning the sky, noting its lovely shade of pale blue holding mountains of white clouds, “that was easy for you to say.”

A lawn chair near the hammock enticed Erin, and she sat. Pondering the view she witnessed, she deciding that here in this quiet, she might find her voice that would be heard, a voice she could speak through the novels she’d always hoped to write. She could create people in this solitude, and they would come alive through her words.

Erin shook her head to delete that image. Her voice had too often been drowned out by the crew, mainly male staff writers. Of course she was working her way up.

Travis had sounded as though even if she didn’t come back yet, he would give her another chance. He’d be phoning at three, she remembered with a slight smile, and all would be well, at least with that part of her life she could preserve back at home.

Disquieted with that thought, she left the chair and stretched in the hammock, finding it wide enough to hold another person. She peered at leaves laced along branches above with slightly swaying moss, and imagined the great love that must have existed between Tilly and Cliff. An equally exciting romance had persisted between Anna and Dane.

She glanced at the driveway, wishing to see a truck driving on it. Erin let her eyes shut, new admiration filling her for the man who lived here, the man who had known how to give such great love.

Trickles of a soft breeze swept across Erin’s face and woke her. She let her eyes open in increments. Her body felt relaxed, rested on the hammock, her soul satisfied. She stretched and then rose, luxuriating in the peaceful setting.

Her car, alone on the driveway, made her suddenly lonely.

She glanced at her wrist.

“That’s unusual,” she uttered, seeing she’d forgotten to put on her watch. She ambled to the house watching leaves of bushes dancing in the wind that had strengthened. The sun’s rays held a new angle from where they had been when she’d first stretched out on the hammock.

The kitchen clock told her she had slept too late. She scurried to the phone.

“Doggone it, answer,” she said to it after she dialed Travis’s number. It was 3:37, past the time she’d promised to call him, but not that much too late. He’d see that she was calling from this number.

He could have easily answered his cell phone, but it continued to ring, letting her know that he wouldn’t.

Dane stretched his neck forward while he drove toward the deserted chicken coop and then the garage.

Yes, Erin’s car still sat in his driveway.

Excitement rammed through his chest. He had been telling himself while working the fields that he hoped she would be gone when he returned home. But he’d had to force himself to believe that’s what he wanted, and now that he saw her car, knew he’d been fighting a losing battle. He liked having Erin in his house. His renewed enthusiasm proved it.

He parked next to her car and dashed up the steps to the back door. Before he opened it, he turned to scan the yard. Finding no sign of her, he hustled inside.

He did not find her in the kitchen. An inexplicable emptiness swept through him. She wasn’t in the dining room. “Erin,” Dane called, entering the office.

“In here.” Her quiet words had come from the living room.

His eyes needed to adjust to the dark. She sat at an end of the sofa, holding a throw pillow.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, stepping near. “Were you sleeping?”

She gave her head a sad shake. Her chest rose with a heavy breath. “I was just grieving, experiencing all my losses.”

Dane sank to the sofa beside her, his heart wrenching when he witnessed her misery. This woman should always be happy. “Can I help?”

“No one can bring Aunt Tilly back.” Her throat moved with her swallow, as though she tried to bite back tears. “Everything that felt permanent in my life is gone. First Aunt Tilly. Now my job. I won’t even be able to afford my apartment when I get back.” She sighed. “But I imagine I’ll find something. Self pity’s a horrible state, don’t you think? I’m sorry. I’m ordinarily grateful for even the simple things. Maybe I took them all for granted.”

The emptiness of her usually expressive eyes sent a rush of anguish through Dane. She couldn’t be so miserable. She should never be miserable.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You’ll be okay. Things will get better. I promise.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze, a sudden consideration jumping to mind. He’d meant those words of consolation for Erin, but felt as though he’d spoken to himself. He had lost Anna. Erin, warm against his side, had lost all.

She peered at him, her brown eyes darker with no lights in the room. She seemed to be searching his face, trying to discern whether he’d spoken the truth.

He switched on the lamp beyond her. The light picked out the glistening of her hair and let him examine her features. Erin’s high cheekbones stood out, casting shadows on the small hollows below. Her eyes watched him, studying. Her rosy lips generously curved.

Dane leaned over. He brushed a kiss across her forehead. He leaned closer, pressing his lips against hers.

She responded with hesitation at first, and then her lips answered with an insistence of their own.

With slow motion, Erin drew her head back.

Dane felt his heart start beating again. When he was finally able, he spoke. “You’re safe here. Maybe you could stay awhile—until you get your bearings.”

Her gaze traveled slowly around his face. She inhaled, exhaled and met his eyes. “This isn’t my place to stay.”

“You can feel your aunt’s presence here. And have a quiet place to contemplate your future.” Dane had surprised himself by making the offer for her to remain. Now he felt stunned after pushing her to stay. He gave Erin a small grin. “Of course you’d have to keep talking and walking slower.”

She offered a soft smile, and his smile widened. His hand remained clasped to her shoulder, keeping her close. With hesitation, he let her go. He didn’t want her to think that staying in this house would mean having relations with him, although the idea enticed him.

As her personal space expanded, it seemed so did her thoughts. “I have no idea what Aunt Tilly wanted me to do tomorrow. But after that, what would I do here?”

His mind skidded, trying to locate stable thoughts. “Some parts of the house have gotten fixed up, and other places haven’t. Maybe you could look over the place and come up with ideas for making the rest of it look better.”

She made an appraising glance around the room. “Possibly. Those heavy drapes could go, for one thing, so this room wouldn’t feel so dreary.” She smiled at Dane, her smile quickly fading. “But renovations would be costly. I’m afraid I wouldn’t have the money.”

I do. The words rushed to Dane’s mouth, but he squelched them. Now wasn’t the time to make certain she ascertained that this entire plantation belonged to him.

“Payments could be worked out,” he said, trying to come up with some way to convince her to stay. Anna had fixed some of the house and planned to renovate other sections. He’d wanted the rest of his place fixed up but had no idea how or interest in doing it himself. He would have her come up with suggestions, and then she could leave.

Emptiness swept through Dane with that thought.

No
, he told himself. He couldn’t love this woman. Loving meant the possibility of losing the object of all your affection. He steeled his heart, unwilling to take the risk.

If Erin stayed, she would have time to reconsider and then locate employment back where she came from. She could find a new apartment if she lost hers, and as for losing that guy Travis, good riddance. She needed a man who would treasure her.

“Oh, that’s true,” she said, her face brightening. “Harvest for the sugar cane is coming, and some of the money earned might be used for renovations.”

“Good idea.” He rose from the sofa, needing to put more distance between him and her. She’d felt too comfortable to snuggle against, too much of an intimate reminder.

She sat looking exquisite beneath the lamp’s glow. “I can’t imagine that Aunt Tilly’s brother would want to move down here. And that seems a pity. Right now, I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to remain in this peaceful setting. I’d hate to see this place go to someone who didn’t adore it.” Her face turned up, aiming her tempting lips at him again.

With all the restraint he could muster, Dane stepped away. “I feel the same way.”

“Maybe someone who deeply cares will soon own this plantation.” That idea made Erin’s eyes sparkle.

Dane had no idea what other thoughts her pretty head held but knew his own instincts kept drawing him to her.

But he couldn’t become attached to a woman he could cherish. And then lose. No way.

“Of course,” she said, following him out the room, “I know my aunt’s husband had no dependents either, but he may have willed the property to others that we aren’t aware of. Or maybe you do know.”

“Cliff was unusual for a Cajun. He didn’t have any relatives left—except Tilly.”

A slow smile spread across Erin’s lips. “I wonder what she wrote as instructions for me tomorrow.”

“How did you make out today—just chilling?” he asked with a grin.

Erin waved a hand. “At first it was really difficult. But then the day became pleasant.” Concern reached her eyes. “Except for parts of it.”

He smirked. “I don’t suppose you used some of your time fixing supper?”

“Dane, all I was supposed to do today was relax. I didn’t think that meant shopping for a meal and cooking.” She cocked her head reflectively. “Sometimes working in the kitchen eases my soul. But today I found different avenues for reflection.”

The temptation came to lean his head aside as she did and meet her lips with his. Dane dismissed the urge and stood straighter. “Would you like to go out for supper, or would you rather if I’d pick up something for us to eat here?”

Her smile came, expressed mostly from her eyes. “Here sounds better. How about if I wait, and you surprise me?”

He tapped his finger on the tip of her nose. “A surprise it is. Get ready, young lady.”

Erin’s smile spreading beneath that nose made Dane call up all the restraint he could muster to turn and walk out the door.

Erin remained in place for long minutes after he left. Her breaths needed to calm.

Her lips still felt moist and warm from his kiss. Moments ago when he’d stood close, she had wanted to kiss him again, to hold onto him and have him hold her as he’d done on the sofa and not let go.