Lilian Darcy – It Began with a Crush (страница 8)

The girls were adorable and also very chatty. Not to say exhausting. She learned their birthday, the names of the friends they’d left behind in California, the hair color of their former teacher and a whole list of their favorite foods. She discovered that they were working on a novel called Happy Horse and All His Friends. She heard that they didn’t like dolls or guns.

But they never mentioned their mother, and neither did Art or Joe, and it seemed a little strange. Halfway through the meal, when the girls paused for breath and another mouthful of ravioli, the two men asked her about Spruce Bay. They’d heard about the upgrading of the resort and wanted to know how that was going.

“Everything’s done, and we have the whole place up and running at full capacity,” she told them.

“So you’re filling up, on weekends?” Art asked, sounding hopeful about it.

“We’re filling up during the week as well, from now until Labor Day. Very pleased. Our website is really pulling people in. People can see how beautiful and fresh everything is after the remodel. The spa bath and solar heating for the pool has been a big hit. So have the new barbecue area and the expanded deck for the restaurant.”

“Hate to see a slow season, up here,” Art said. “So bad for the local economy. That’s good that the remodel has paid off. Helps all of us.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

Capelli Auto was indirectly as dependent on tourists as Spruce Bay, because if the people who ran the resorts and motels and restaurants weren’t making money, then they weren’t paying staff, and if staff weren’t getting paid then they would put off getting their cars fixed for as long as they could.

Ugh, but she didn’t like this train of thought, because it reminded her of her own slackness in ignoring the noise in her car. If she’d had it looked at sooner, she might not have needed the loaner car today, and if she hadn’t been driving the loaner car, she might not have rear-ended—

Change the subject, Mary Jane.

“Are you starting school here in September, girls?” she asked quickly.

They nodded. “But we’re not sure which school yet.”

“Bit of research to do, there,” Joe came in.

“And how about over the summer? What will you do? I bet you have all sorts of plans.”

“Pony camp,” they said in unison, at once. She couldn’t believe how often they did this—came out with the same phrase, in the same intonation, at exactly the same time.

“Pony camp! Wow, that’ll be great fun!”

“Well...” Joe came in again, sounding reluctant this time. “Pony camp is more aspiration than reality, at this stage. I don’t know if it’s practical.”

“Dadd-yyyy...!”

“I know. I get it. You’ve said. You really, really want to go to pony camp. But I don’t know what there is, around here. If there even is a pony camp. Maybe you could help me on that a little bit, Mary Jane. You probably need to answer guests’ questions on this stuff, right?”

“Yes, all the time.”

“So you’d know what’s out there. I know there are a couple of trail-riding places, but do they offer day camps?”

“There’s one that does, but in all honesty I wouldn’t recommend it. I’ve sent guests there a couple of times and they’ve come back with complaints.” She paused, wondering if she should mention the idea she’d thought of. If she did, she would be creating a connection with Joe and his girls that it might be safer to stay away from. She said it all the same. “There is one place I’m thinking of that might work...”

For more than one reason, she wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing. Penelope Beresford didn’t go in for advertising, but she still somehow managed to run an equestrian facility that was in high demand. She was British, a former Olympic rider and a highly regarded dressage and jumping coach, and had top-level riders coming to her regularly for intensive training. She also gave riding lessons to local people, and put on occasional two-week vacation day camps for children at her own convenience, seeming to fill them purely through word of mouth.

She didn’t offer accommodation for humans, just horses, so the visiting top-level riders usually stayed at the nearest vacation resort, which happened to be Spruce Bay. They were always very well looked after there.

Mary Jane had two of them staying in the resort’s biggest and best-equipped family-size housekeeping cottage right now, as it happened. They were a husband and wife team of professional eventing riders, they’d brought a whole string of their best horses to Penelope and would be here for a month. They’d also brought their two children, a six-year-old boy and an eight-year-old girl and a nanny.

It was just possible that some kind of informal vacation day camp might be arranged out of all this, and it was also just possible that if Mary Jane pulled strings for Joe, on behalf of his girls, she might not feel quite so indebted to him and his father for the fact that she’d crashed their car today, while to punish her in return, they were giving her dinner.

Already, she felt drawn into their lives. Should she be holding back, instead?

“I’d have to ask a few questions before I’d have any details for you,” she said slowly. “Wouldn’t want to get your hopes up.”

“Already done that, I’m afraid,” Joe mouthed at her on a drawl, because Holly and Maddie were looking at her as if stars shone out of her eyes.

Mary Jane winced, and mouthed back, “Sorry,” and they shared another look. His mouth tucked itself in at the corner, and the expression in his eyes was so complicated she couldn’t work it out at all but wanted to solve everything for him anyhow. Her self-control seemed to be lying in a melted pool at her feet, and there was no going back now.

She knew she was in serious trouble.

Serious, horrible, embarrassing trouble, in the space of a few hours.

Over “Cap” Capelli from high school, and two adorable seven-year-old girls.

Chapter Four

Joe dropped her back at Spruce Bay almost immediately after dinner. Mary Jane insisted on that. “I’m sure you have a lot to do, Joe.” He hadn’t let her help with cleaning up, and she’d had to content herself with rinsing off a few plates and putting them in the dishwasher.

He didn’t argue about dropping her home, and on the drive they talked about the car.

Cars.

Hers and the one belonging to Capelli Auto.

“I’m sorry we don’t have a second car to offer you,” he told her.

“I’m glad you don’t, because I wouldn’t take it. I’ll organize a rental. And I will cover the deductible on the insurance.”

“We’ll talk about that.”

“We’re talking about it now, and it’s decided.”

“Well, no, because it’s possible you have some bargaining power,” he said. “There might be something from you that I want, that I would be more than happy to exchange for the deductible on the insurance.”

Was he talking about—

“I mean,” he went on very quickly, “the pony camp thing.”

So, no. He wasn’t talking about her selling him her body. Just to be clear.

What is wrong with you, Mary Jane?

As if she didn’t already know.

“You gave me the impression that pony camp would be a special deal with the owner, is what I’m saying,” Joe explained. “So if you can help me organize that, put in a word, or arrange a meeting, or whatever it takes, then it’ll hugely help with the girls this summer, and you certainly won’t owe me for the car thing.”

“I’ll call Penelope tomorrow, and talk to the Richardsons about it, too.” She’d told Joe about them, and their kids and nanny.

“And call me as soon as you know if we can work something out?”

“Of course.”

“I’m sorry, I’m nagging you about this as much as the girls would, but at the moment Dad and I are running the garage and looking after the girls between us, and I can already see that it’s going to be too much for Dad.”

“Of course. They’re adorable, but full of energy.” It sounded inadequate. All she really knew about kids came from the ones who stayed at Spruce Bay. Some of those could be pretty obnoxious, and it was a testament to the yearning in her heart that she still wanted babies, lots of babies, even when she’d seen that they didn’t always stay cute for long.

Joe’s girls were definitely cute. What was this really about in her heart? The man or the girls? If they had a mother... If she was only away for a few days, and it was only by chance that she hadn’t come up in conversation...

Maybe this man and his family were completely out of bounds, and even if they weren’t...

I’m scaring myself, feeling like this so fast.

“He’ll be stubborn about it if I just try to send them off to some kind of commercial day care,” Joe was saying. “He doesn’t think that’s good enough. But a pony camp would be their dream come true, and after—” He stopped and muttered something under his breath. “You don’t need the detail.”

“No, it’s fine.” She would take all the detail he wanted to give her. She would listen with all her heart.

Not good. Very, very bad.

She waited to see if he would say more, and when he didn’t, her disappointment was yet another danger signal on a rapidly lengthening list. She wanted to know everything about him, and she wanted to hear it from him, in his dark, husk-and-syrup voice, and that was scary.