Sweet On Peggy. Stella MacLean

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СКАЧАТЬ fingers together and stared at them before going on. “It was easily one of the most difficult times of my life. And in many other ways it was the most surreal, rewarding, heartbreaking experience I’ve ever had. I can’t explain it. Many people in Haiti need so much, yet the ones I met have spirit and enthusiasm you don’t often find back here at home. We take our lives for granted. We’re so preoccupied with having everything we want. We worry so much about the future. Maybe it’s because their future is so uncertain that they have learned to live in the here and now.”

      She watched how he flexed his fingers, especially those on his injured arm. He was struggling not to break down, and she could so relate to that. She’d wanted to have a good cry ever since her visit to Dr. Brandon’s office. “I admire you for being able to do what you did. Many people couldn’t.”

      She’d never felt this close to a man before. And in telling her about Haiti, he’d helped her control her worry. Having him here had been a huge benefit, unexpected and wonderful.

      “I should have done more.” His jaw worked, he lowered his head and stared at his hands. “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t left.”

      “Yet you did. You must have needed to come home for some reason. Was your mother in poor health?”

      “I’d gone to Haiti after she passed to get a better perspective. My sister wanted me to move to Texas to be near her. I couldn’t imagine myself in Texas.” He glanced at her, his expression one of sadness. “Then I remembered my mother’s stories about her summers in Eden Harbor, and that sort of made the decision for me.”

      “You make decisions so easily,” she mused. “I find it difficult to make a decision, especially one that could change my life. But I’m glad you decided to come here. And everyone is singing your praises, even Ned Tompkins. Pleasing Ned isn’t easy,” she said, teasing him just a little bit.

      “I do make decisions quickly. But they have mostly worked out...except maybe my year at a summer camp in northern Maine.” He gave a low chuckle. “Let’s not go there for now.” He leaned back and looked at her. “But I didn’t come to talk about me. I came here to talk about you. To see if you were all right.”

      “And I am.”

      “That’s it?”

      As close as she felt to him right now, she couldn’t tell him about her health issue. She had to believe it was simply a scare and would all be over in a matter of days. Besides, the men she’d known wouldn’t be around for long if there was a problem requiring them to do anything. She suspected that Rory wasn’t like that, but she wasn’t willing to take a chance when her life was so uncertain.

      For some reason she couldn’t identify, sitting beside him made her feel better about tomorrow morning. Whether it was his upbeat manner or the warmth in his eyes didn’t matter. What mattered was making it through the evening, something she’d rather not do alone. “Yeah, that’s all, unless you want to stick around and help me make dinner.”

      * * *

      RORY COULDN’T BELIEVE his good fortune. His impetuousness had paid off. “I can’t think of anything I’d like to do better. I’m starving and you must be, too.”

      “Then let’s go to the kitchen,” she said, getting up and heading across the room to the door leading to the kitchen.

      She got out some pots and pans, took several pieces of haddock from the refrigerator, removed the wrapping and rinsed the fish in the sink. He watched her easy movements. “You cook a lot, I take it,” he said.

      “I do. Mostly out of necessity. I’m a little way from town, the restaurants and fast-food places. So, I keep food on hand. I hope you like fish. I could make you a grilled cheese sandwich if you want,” she said, giving him a quick smile.

      “No. Fish is great. Can I peel potatoes, cook rice, make a salad?”

      “Yes. Rice and a salad would be perfect while you tell me more about Haiti.”

      He couldn’t tell her the real reason why he’d come home. He hadn’t told anyone other than a psychologist he’d seen for a short time after he got back. Until he knew Peggy better, he wouldn’t allow himself to confide in her. He didn’t want her to see him as a weak, indecisive man, someone who had allowed his experience in Haiti to determine how he felt about life here in Eden Harbor. He had a good life here, the respect of the locals and was presently sharing the kitchen with a woman who intrigued him. Yet he couldn’t ease the feelings of guilt, the sense that he’d abandoned people who relied on him.

      He had so many mixed-up feelings around his time in Haiti. Some good. Some not so good. Yet a part of him wanted to return and finish what he had started. Grant Williams, his team leader, had promised him that he could go back when he was ready. So tempting...until now.

      He took the bag of lettuce, the cucumber, celery and tomatoes she gave him and found a knife on the rack next to the stove. “The people I met in Haiti were the friendliest on the planet. So interesting, committed. The friends I made while living in that country will always be a part of my life.”

      “Wherever my parents and I lived, we always enjoyed learning about the local culture. It’s amazing how much we can learn from others, about how they live and work.”

      “That’s true.” Yet it was more than that for him. He’d been a part of the community. And that acceptance had resulted in him feeling needed and appreciated in ways he’d never experienced before.

      They worked alongside each other in silence for a few minutes, he washing vegetables and she working on the rest of the meal. He couldn’t help but notice how easily she battered the fish and put the frying pan on the stove in preparation for cooking the haddock.

      “I’d better get going. I don’t want you to have the fish ready before the rice is cooked.”

      “I’ll wait for you,” she said. Her glance swept over him, her lips pursed.

      “Is there a problem?” he asked.

      “You need an apron.” Pulling one from a hook on the side of the fridge, she then slipped it around his waist and tied the knot for him before putting on an apron herself.

      The way she moved to tie the knot, as if they’d been doing this for years, touched something in him. “Thank you,” he said.

      “Anytime.”

      “Next time it’s my turn.”

      “For what?”

      “For tying your apron.”

      She tucked her chin down in surprise. “I didn’t, did I?”

      “You did, and a fine job it was,” he said, thoroughly enjoying her discomfort. Yet he couldn’t help but wonder if she had shared her kitchen with another man, that tying a knot in an apron for a man was something she’d gotten in the habit of doing and not so much something she had done specifically for him.

      * * *

      SHE HADN’T FELT these feelings before. This sense of connection to someone, the feeling that he would understand should she decide to share her worries. Yet she wasn’t about to do that, especially when she had this deep-down feeling that she might have found a man who had serious potential. She couldn’t СКАЧАТЬ