EXPECTANT BRIDE-TO-BE Read online

  So think of an alternative, smart guy.

  "Anywhere special?" he asked, trying to buy a little time as his gaze settled on the brightly lit café across the street and an idea began to take shape.

  "My mother's house. I've got a few things to do before I fly back to San Francisco tomorrow afternoon."

  Ah, San Francisco… He wanted to hear about how she'd ended up there, among other things.

  "Have you made any plans for dinner?"

  "Not really," she admitted, seeming slightly bemused by his questioning.

  "Me, neither. Maybe we could grab a bite to eat together, for old times' sake," he suggested. "That place across the street looks inviting."

  "Oh, I don't know…" she demurred, wary of him once again.

  "I know you've probably got a lot to do, but we shouldn't have to wait for a table this early in the evening," he said, then added hurriedly, hoping to reassure her, "I won't keep you long. In fact, I promise I'll have you home by seven at the latest."

  For several agonizing moments, Abby stood silently, looking down at the sidewalk. Then, just when Jack was sure she was going to refuse his invitation, she met his gaze and smiled wryly.

  "All right," she agreed. "For old times' sake."

  Jack couldn't remember the last time he'd been so pleased by the prospect of buying a woman dinner. He had tried it a few times during the past year, just to keep his matchmaking friends happy, but he hadn't had a very good time. Tonight would be different, though. Tonight he'd be with a good friend—a friend who knew and understood him.

  They could spend a couple of hours enjoying each other's company, then go their separate ways, the better for having been together. At least, he was sure he would be better for it.

  And he would do his best to make sure Abby was, too, he vowed, taking her by the arm as they started across the street. Considering how little choice he'd given her in the matter, that was the least he could do … the very least.

  * * *

  Chapter 3

  « ^ »

  Abby walked with Jack to the street corner, then stood beside him quietly, waiting for the light to change so they could cross to the other side.

  She willed herself to say something that wouldn't sound silly, but thoughts of what she was about to do made it impossible for her to be clever. And the pressure of Jack's hand on her upper arm, though barely perceptible through the heavy fabric of her coat, was making her heart flutter in a most distracting way.

  Abby couldn't believe she'd had the temerity to accept Jack's dinner invitation. In fact, she couldn't believe he'd asked her in the first place, even for old times' sake. Yet, he had, and she had, and now here she was, making herself a nervous wreck over what would certainly prove to be nothing more than another of his many acts of kindness.

  He hadn't asked her out on a date, after all. Just an early dinner at a nearby café for a couple of old friends who had nothing better to do—with the reassuringly meant promise to have her home by seven tacked on for good measure.

  Hearing about her mother's death, he'd probably felt sorry for her, and as he had all those years ago when he'd bought her a soft drink in the high school caféteria, he'd simply wanted to cheer her up. With his unerring knack for doing the right thing at the right time, he'd decided that taking her to dinner would be the most likely way to revive her sagging spirits.

  And he'd been right, Abby conceded as they stepped off the curb. Though her sadness at losing Larissa in such an untimely manner would never disappear completely, she no longer felt quite as weighed down by it as she had earlier. For that alone, she owed Jack Randall … yet again.

  She wouldn't make more of his invitation than he'd intended, though. Having dinner with Jack at a fine restaurant, preferably by candlelight, had been one of her many youthful fantasies, but she was older now, and wise enough to know that the reality wasn't going to be romantic in the least. They would spend a little time together in a brightly lit neighborhood café, and that would be that.

  "Well, here we are," Jack said, stating the obvious as they walked up to the café's old-fashioned, wood-and-glass front door.

  Her reverie duly interrupted, Abby looked up at him and smiled. "Yes, here we are," she agreed. Then, aware that, up close, the place looked vaguely familiar, she asked, "Wasn't this a country store years ago?"

  "You're right. It was a country store for years. I remember my mother mentioning something about a young couple buying one of the old buildings along the square about a year ago and turning it into a restaurant. This must be the place. She also said the food was supposed to be good. I, for one, hope she's right because I'm famished."

  "How are your parents?" Abby glanced up at Jack as he opened the door for her, suddenly curious about why he wasn't having dinner with them.

  He had already said he'd come home for the holidays. Surely the Randalls would have wanted to show off their handsome, successful son every chance they had. Jack had been quite popular in his own right, as well, and many of his old friends either lived in Promise or had family there, themselves. It struck her as odd that he was so obviously at loose ends during what she'd always considered the height of the small town's social season.

  "They're doing fine," Jack replied. "My father retired from the bank almost a year ago. Since then, he and my mother have been traveling a lot. They left this afternoon to celebrate New Year's on a Caribbean cruise. They'll be gone a couple of weeks. I couldn't take the time off to join them, and I couldn't get a flight back to Houston until tomorrow morning, so…" He shrugged, offering her a slight smile as they entered the café.

  "Too bad," Abby said, though she didn't really mean it. Selfish as it might be, she was glad Jack had been stuck in Promise an extra day. "Celebrating New Year's on a Caribbean cruise sounds wonderful."

  "It would have been if I'd had someone special to share it with."

  The way Jack held her gaze for an extra beat as they stood in the doorway, halfway between the dark chill of twilight and the café's mellow, glowing warmth, had Abby thinking he didn't mean Cindy. But only until she gave herself a firm mental shake. Walking ahead of him, she ordered herself to stop the foolish fantasizing, then smiled at the young woman who stepped forward to greet them.

  "Two for dinner?" she asked, welcoming them with a smile of her own.

  "Yes, please," Jack answered.

  "I can take your coats if you'd like?"

  "Okay with you?" he asked, touching Abby lightly on the shoulder.

  She nodded agreeably, unbuttoning her coat as she looked around the café. Though the place was larger than it appeared from the outside, there was a cozy, country-home feel to it. The furnishings had an antique look complemented by the lace curtains on the windows. Despite the early hour, two couples and a family of four had already been seated, and as Jack helped her out of her coat, the door opened and another family entered.

  "Looks like we got here just in time," she said.

  "Yeah, another thirty minutes and we probably would have had to wait. Then I'd never have been able to get you home by seven, and I'd have been in big trouble."

  Though Jack spoke the words in a serious tone, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes warned Abby that he really didn't consider big trouble a bad thing.

  "How about a table by the fireplace?" the hostess suggested after she'd hung up their coats.

  "Sound good to you?" Once again, Jack deferred to Abby, making her feel special in a subtle, but important, way.

  "Sounds great," she replied. "Why don't you go on ahead and I'll join you after I call my grandparents. I want to let them know where I am in case they need me for any reason. I promise I'll only be a few minutes."

  "No problem. Take your time." He gave her arm a heartening squeeze. "Would you like me to order a drink for you—a glass of wine, or something stronger?"

  "A glass of red wine would be lovely," she said, shooting him a wry smile.

  "Ah, a woman after my own heart." He smiled, too,
then turned to follow the hostess as she led the way to their table.

  Abby made a quick stop in the rest room to pull herself together. There wasn't much she could do about her puffy eyes, but at least her hair had stayed neatly in place, and a dab of fresh lipstick brightened her pale face. Reminding herself yet again that she wasn't on a date, and she looked just fine for a spur-of-the-moment dinner with a friend, she then called her grandparents on the pay phone she found in the narrow hallway that led back to the dining room.

  Her grandmother answered after several rings, her voice sounding weary. Afraid that she'd awakened her from a much-needed nap, Abby told her about meeting Jack in the park and her acceptance of his dinner invitation.

  Judith's tone cheered immediately.

  "Jack Randall? He's that nice young man who was so kind to you when you were in high school, isn't he?" she asked.

  "Yes, that's him."

  "Well, you enjoy your evening out, Abby. You certainly deserve it. Don't worry about your grandfather and me. We'll be just fine."

  "Are you sure, Gran?"

  "I'm sure, sweetie."

  "I'll see you in the morning then. Before I leave for the airport."

  "Come for breakfast and bring your young man," Judith said.

  "Oh, Gran, he's not my young man. But I will come for breakfast … on my own."

  Leave it to her grandmother to make something out of nothing. She meant well, of course. She wanted Abby to settle down with a good man and have babies. Abby wouldn't have minded that herself, but she hadn't met the right man yet. And Jack wasn't the one, either—no matter how she wished he could be. There were all sorts of obstacles in the way. They didn't even live in the same city, and that was just for starters.

  Warning herself not to spoil what time they did have together with maudlin thoughts, Abby finally joined Jack at their table by the fireplace. He stood as she walked toward him and held her chair with gentlemanly care. When they were both seated, he poured a glass of wine for her from the bottle on the table.

  "To old friends," he said, raising his glass to her. "And fond memories."

  "Yes." She smiled as she clinked her glass to his. "To old friends and fond memories."

  As she sipped from her glass, Abby admired the way the firelight burnished Jack's golden-blond hair. He had been a very handsome young man all those years ago. Maturity had only added to his masculine appeal. But his appearance alone wasn't what attracted Abby the most.

  He had a way of looking at her that made her feel like the most important person in the world. When he spoke, it was never with condescension, and when he offered help, he never thought of what might be in it for him. He had never used his wealth or social standing in town to lord it over others who were less fortunate. Instead, he had sought out ways to make a difference, as he had in her life, and he continued to do the same in his chosen profession.

  "You're looking rather pensive," Jack said, eyeing her curiously as he set his wine glass aside. "What are you thinking?"

  "That I'm glad I agreed to have dinner with you," Abby admitted, unable to be anything but honest with him.

  There was no reason why she couldn't take pleasure in his company for whatever time they had together, and no reason why she had to keep her pleasure a secret.

  "Not half as glad as I am." He flashed a rueful grin as he handed her one of the menus their waitress had left on the table. "You've saved me from a night of rattling around my parents' house, all alone. If we weren't here together, I'd be sitting in front of the television set, eating yet another in a long line of turkey sandwiches."

  When Jack shuddered for emphasis, Abby couldn't help but laugh.

  "I can't tell you how pleased I am to have spared you that awful fate."

  "Why don't you try?" he suggested, a mischievous look in his eyes.

  "Jack, oh, Jack, I'm so happy you're not sitting all alone in front of the television set, eating yet another in a long line of turkey sandwiches," she gushed, then blushed as she realized how silly she must sound.

  Her embarrassment lasted only an instant, though. Leaning across the table, Jack took her hand in his and replied with equal fervency, "Abby, oh, Abby, I'm so happy, too."

  They laughed together, then Jack lifted his glass in another toast that Abby seconded, to anything but yet another turkey sandwich. Finally, they opened their menus.

  They both ordered the special of the day, beef Stroganoff, along with Caesar salad. Then Jack asked Abby about her life in San Francisco. His interest was so sincere that she had no trouble telling him about her job at one of the city's top-ten accounting firms and the delightful little town house she'd bought recently just a cable-car ride from the office.

  As they dug into their salads, he asked, too, if she was seeing anyone special, and Abby said, quite truthfully, that she wasn't.

  In fact, there had been two men in her life since she'd left Promise—a dark-haired, broody, James Dean type she'd dated while she was at Stanford, and the CFO of a small engineering company she'd met at a conference. He had been nice enough, but during their year-long relationship, which had ended almost six months ago, Abby had come to think of him as Mr. Beige, in deference to his personality as well as the clothes he often chose to wear.

  Of course, she didn't tell Jack any of that. Instead, she turned the conversation to his life in Houston.

  By the time they'd finished their main course and chosen a dessert to share with their coffee—a slice of decadently rich chocolate cheesecake in a pecan crust—Abby realized that Jack had been serious when he'd said he had devoted himself to his work since Cindy's death. He socialized even less than she did, and then only at functions sponsored by the hospital where he was completing his residency in pediatric medicine.

  "How much longer will you be at Texas Children's Hospital?" Abby asked as she helped herself to a forkful of cheesecake.

  "About two months. My residency will be over at the end of February."

  "Then what will you do?"

  "I'm trying to decide," Jack replied, frowning thoughtfully. "I've had several offers to join established medical practices, including one here in Promise. An internist and an obstetrician teamed up to open a clinic about a year ago, and they're looking for a pediatrician to sign on so they'll be able to offer even more comprehensive care to their patients."

  "Would you like to come back here to live and work?"

  Personally, she couldn't think of anything she would rather do less. Of course, Jack had had a much easier time of it growing up in Promise. He'd truly been a favored son, in more ways than one.

  "I'm not sure. I've been gone a long time, and I've gotten used to living in big cities. But I could really make a difference at the clinic here. More than I could in the other practices I've been considering." He met her gaze and smiled. "How about you? Have you ever thought about living in Promise again?"

  "Not at all," she stated succinctly. Then, aware that her voice had sounded harsher than she'd intended, she smiled as she added, "I'm more than happy where I am, thank you very much."

  "More bad memories than good for you here?" he asked, his concern for her evident.

  "In some respects." Abby shrugged noncommittally as their waitress paused by their table to serve more coffee.

  "Are you ready for your check, sir?" she asked after refilling their cups.

  "Yes, please," Jack replied, then glanced at his watch as she walked away. "Oh, no. I'm about to be in big trouble."

  "Why is that?" Abby asked, smiling at his suddenly sheepish expression.

  "I promised I'd have you home by seven and it's now almost eight o'clock."

  "You're kidding."

  Abby couldn't believe so much time had passed. It seemed as if they'd only just arrived minutes, not hours, ago.

  "I'm sorry, Abby. I really lost track of time."

  "Don't apologize, Jack. So did I."

  "I haven't had such an enjoyable evening out in … years."

  "Neither
have I. Thanks for making this such a lovely dinner."

  "My pleasure."

  He held her gaze for several long moments, his expression so warm, so sincere, that Abby wished their time together was only just beginning rather than ending as it most surely must.

  When the waitress arrived with their bill, Jack finally looked away. Pulling out his wallet, he overrode her initial protest that they split the bill, and paid for their meal. The hostess had their coats ready for them by the time they reached the entryway, and a few minutes later they were standing on the sidewalk.

  As they paused to adjust their collars against the chill wind, the fine mist of rain that had begun to fall left tiny droplets of moisture sparkling on their hair. Looking around, Abby saw that the shops surrounding the square had turned on their Christmas lights. Several of the trees in the park were lit up, as well, giving the place a magical glow. Or maybe it was standing there with Jack Randall that made Promise, Nevada suddenly seem so enchanting.

  "Well, thanks again," she said at last, her good, old-fashioned pragmatism coming to the fore as she held out her hand. "I really enjoyed seeing you."

  It was getting late, and she had a long walk back to her mother's house ahead of her, not to mention a Christmas tree to take down, decorations to put away and her suitcase to pack. She didn't have time to linger, especially when it would do her more harm than good. The sooner she parted company with Jack, the sooner she would stop fantasizing about impossible, improbable what-ifs.

  "I'd feel better if you let me walk you to your car. I realize you're probably parked close by, but I'd just … feel better." He took her hand, holding on to it far longer than necessary.

  "Actually, I walked here from my mother's house," Abby admitted. "And I don't mind walking back on my own. After the meal we just had, the exercise will do me good, and Promise is pretty quiet this time of night. I don't think I'll run into trouble between here and there."

  "Well, I'm not about to let you take any chances." He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and drew her into step beside him as he started down the sidewalk. "My rental car is parked on the other side of the square. Come along, and I'll give you a ride home."