Page 33 of Summer Weddings

O n the first day of school, Mitch swore his daughter was up before dawn. By the time the alarm sounded and he struggled out of bed and into the kitchen, Chrissie was already dressed.

She sat in the living room with her lunch pail tightly clutched in her hand. She was dressed in her new jeans and Precious Moments sweatshirt.

“Morning, Daddy.”

“Howdy, pumpkin.” He yawned loudly. “Aren’t you up a little early?” He padded barefoot into the kitchen, with Chrissie following him.

“It’s the first day of school.” She announced this as if it was news to him.

“I know.”

“I’m Ms. Ross’s helper,” she said importantly.

Mitch had stopped counting the number of times a day Chrissie mentioned Ms. Ross.

He’d given up telling her he wasn’t interested in marrying the teacher.

Chrissie didn’t want to believe it, and arguing with her only irritated him.

Eventually, she’d see for herself that there’d never be a relationship between him and Bethany.

He’d heard that Bethany had stirred up a lot of interest among the single men in town. Good. Great. Wonderful. In no time at all, she’d be involved with someone else, and his daughter would get the message.

Mitch hated to disappoint her. But, he reasoned, disappointment was part of life, and he wouldn’t always be able to protect her. The sooner she accepted there’d only be the two of them, the better.

“I packed my own lunch,” she told him, holding up her Barbie lunch pail.

“I’m proud of you.”

She delighted in showing him what she’d chosen for her lunch. Ham-and-cheese sandwich carefully wrapped in napkins, an apple, juice, an oatmeal cookie. Mitch was pleased to see that she’d done a good job of packing a well-balanced meal and told her so.

He looked at his watch, gauging the time before they could leave. “What about breakfast?”

Although Chrissie claimed she was too excited to eat, Mitch insisted she try.

“How about a bowl of cereal?” he suggested, pulling out several boxes from the cupboard.

He wasn’t much of a breakfast eater himself.

Generally he didn’t have anything until ten or so.

More often than not, he picked up a doughnut or something equally sweet when he stopped in at Ben’s for coffee.

“I’ll try to eat something,” Chrissie agreed with a decided lack of enthusiasm. He let her pour her own cereal and milk. His daughter was an independent little creature, which was fine with Mitch. In fact, he took pride in it.

By the time he’d finished dressing, she’d eaten her breakfast and washed and put away her bowl and spoon. She sat on the couch waiting for Mitch to escort her to school.

“Are you sure you need me, now that you’re a second-grader?” Not that Mitch objected to walking his daughter to class. However, he had a sneaking suspicion that if her teacher had been anyone other than the lovely Ms. Ross, Chrissie would have insisted on walking without him.

“I want you to take me,” she said with a smile bright enough to blind him. The kid knew exactly what she was doing. And being the good father he was, he had to go along with her. The way he figured it, he’d walk her to the school door and, if he was lucky, escape without seeing Bethany.

His plan backfired. Chrissie had to show him her desk.

“I’m over here,” she said, taking him by the hand and leading him to the front row. “Ms. Ross let me pick my own seat.” Wouldn’t you know, his daughter had chosen to sit directly in front of the teacher’s desk.

He tried to make a fast getaway, but Bethany herself waylaid him.

“Good morning, Mitch.”

“Morning.” The tropical bird was back in full plumage. She wore a black skirt with a colorful floral top; it reminded him of the shirt Sawyer had brought back from Hawaii. Her hair was woven into a thick braid that fell halfway down her back.

She did have beautiful hair, he’d say that much.

It didn’t take a lot of effort to imagine undoing her braid and running his fingers through the glossy strands.

He could see himself with his hands buried wrist-deep in her hair, drawing her mouth to his.

Her lips would feel silky soft, and she’d taste like honey and passion and—

“Are you picking me up after school?” Chrissie asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Thank heaven she had. Apparently all Chrissie’s chatter about Bethany was having more of an effect on him than he’d realized. His heart pounded like an overworked piston, his pulse thumping so hard he could feel it throb in his neck.

Bethany and Chrissie were both looking at him, awaiting his response. “Pick you up?” As a rule, Chrissie walked over to Louise Gold’s house after school.

“Just for today,” Chrissie said, her big eyes gazing up at him hopefully.

“All right,” he agreed grudgingly. “Just for today.”

Chrissie’s face shone with her smile.

He would’ve told Bethany goodbye, but she was talking to other parents. Just as well. The sooner he got away from her, the sooner he could get a grip on his emotions.

Mitch wished he knew what was wrong with him. After vehemently opposing all talk about becoming romantically involved with Bethany Ross, he found it downright frightening to discover the effect she had on him.

* * *

Sawyer debated what exactly he should say to his brother. It wasn’t often that he felt called upon to take Christian to task. But enough was enough. Christian had Mariah so unnerved the poor girl couldn’t do anything right.

“She did it again,” Christian muttered as he walked past Sawyer’s desk to his own.

Sawyer looked up. “Who?” he asked in an innocent voice.

Seething, Christian jerked his head toward Mariah. “She can’t seem to find accounts receivable on the computer.”

“It’s here,” Mariah insisted, her fingers on the keyboard. Even from where Sawyer was sitting, it looked as though she was randomly pressing keys in a desperate effort to find the missing data. “I’m just not sure where it went.”

“Don’t you have it on a backup disk?” Sawyer asked.

“Yes…”

“Who knows?” Christian threw his hands in the air. “The backup disk’s probably in the same place as the missing file. We could be in real trouble here.” Panic edged his voice.

“She’ll find it,” Sawyer said confidently.

Mariah thanked him with a brief smile.

“Let me look,” Christian demanded, flying out of his chair. “Before you crash the entire system.”

“I lost it, I’ll find it.” Mariah didn’t budge from her seat. The woman had long since won Sawyer’s admiration, not least for the mettle she’d shown in dealing with his brother.

“Leave her be,” Sawyer said.

“And risk everything?”

“We aren’t risking anything. There’s a backup disk.”

Christian sat down at his desk, but his gaze remained on Mariah. Sawyer watched Christian. And Mariah did her level best to ignore them both.

“Fact is, I could use a break,” Sawyer said. “Why don’t we let Ben treat us to a cup of coffee?”

“Okay,” Christian agreed reluctantly.

As Sawyer walked past Mariah’s desk, she mouthed a thank-you. He nodded and steered his irritable brother out the door.

“I wish you wouldn’t be so hard on her,” he said the minute they were alone. It annoyed him to see Christian treat Mariah as if she didn’t have a brain in her head.

“Hard on her?” Christian protested loudly. “The woman drives me insane. If it was up to me, she’d be out of here in a heartbeat. She’s trouble with a capital T. ”

“She’s a good secretary,” Sawyer argued. “The office has never been in better shape. The files are organized and neat, and the equipment’s been updated. Frankly I don’t know how we managed without her as long as we did.”

Christian opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn’t have an argument.

“Okay, so there was the one fiasco with that attorney,” Sawyer said, knowing that part of Christian’s anger stemmed from the confrontation with Tracy Santiago.

Christian’s mouth thinned and his eyes narrowed. “Mark my words, she’ll be back.”

“Who?”

His brother eyed him scornfully. “The attorney, of course. If for nothing more than pure spite. That woman’s vicious, Sawyer. Vicious. And as if that’s not bad enough, she took an instant dislike to all of us—especially Duke. She’s out for revenge.”

Sawyer didn’t believe that. True, Christian had been the one who’d actually talked to her, but his brother’s assessment of Tracy’s plans for revenge sounded a little far-fetched.

“It’s my understanding that everything was squared once Mariah talked to her. I don’t think there’s any real threat.”

“For now,” Christian said meaningfully. “But don’t think we’ve heard the end of this. Yup, you mark my words, Santiago’s gone for reinforcements.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would she do that if no one’s paying her fee? We’ve seen the last of her.”

“I doubt it,” Christian muttered.

Instead of going straight to Ben’s, they strolled toward the open hangar. John Henderson, who served as a sometime mechanic and a full-time pilot, was servicing the six-passenger Lockheed, the largest plane in their small fleet.

When he saw them approach, John grabbed an oil rag from his hip pocket and wiped his hands. “Morning,” he called out cheerfully.

Sawyer noticed that John had gotten his hair and beard trimmed. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy when he put some effort into his appearance. Of course, there hadn’t been much reason to do that until recently.

It occurred to him that Duke Porter might learn a thing or two from John. Duke might have fared better with the Santiago woman had he been a bit more gentlemanly. Sawyer had never seen any two people take such an instant dislike to each other.

“You’re looking good,” he commented, nodding at John, and to his surprise, the other man blushed.

“I was thinking of asking the new schoolteacher if she’d have dinner with me Friday evening,” he said. Sawyer noted that John was studying Christian as if he expected him to object.

“It’s Thursday, John,” Sawyer pointed out. “Just when do you plan to ask her?”

“That depends.” Again John studied Christian.