Helen didn’t look up from her efficient paring. “Thanks, honey, but I’ve got my heart set on that potato soup your grandmother used to make.”
Beth shrugged. All dressed up and no place to go. “What can I do then?” She reached for the drawer that held the aprons while mentally reviewing the ingredients they would need.
“You just run along,” Helen said, still not looking up. “I need some more thinking time.”
Beth closed the drawer and leaned one hip against the cabinet. “Mom, look at me.” She folded her arms over her chest and waited. When her mother at last relented and turned her way, Beth continued, “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I wish you’d let me in on it. This whole situation’s just too disturbing. I can see what an effect it’s having on you, not to mention Mrs. Ashton.”
Helen dropped the knife and the nearly naked potato into the sink and dried her hands on a towel. “I can’t tell you,” she said finally. She folded the towel neatly and put it on the counter, her gaze focused intently upon the ivy embellished terry cloth. “This is between Colleen and me.”
Beth wasn’t going to give up that easily. “You said there was something that needed to be said.”
Helen’s deep brown gaze, the one Beth had inherited, connected with hers. “There is, but it’s not so simple.”
Beth shook her head. “I don’t understand. What could possibly be so earthshaking that you’re afraid to say it out loud?”
Helen looked away, but not before Beth saw the truth of her own words. Her breath trapped in her chest. It was earthshaking. Whatever it was, it was big. The fear and pain she saw in her mother’s eyes in that millisecond before she turned away made Beth’s heart skip a beat.
“Okay.” Beth swallowed at the lump of worry forming in her throat. This was definitely not good. “We don’t have to talk about it right now. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. You and Colleen have been friends forever, you’ll work it out in your own time.”
Her hands braced against the counter, Helen merely stared into the bowl of potatoes she’d been peeling.
Beth started to apologize again but the ringing of the telephone interrupted her. She sighed, walked to the back door and snagged up the receiver from the old beige rotary base hanging on the wall. She managed a pleasant hello.
“Miss Beth?”
“Yes.” She frowned. The male voice sounded like—
“Mayor Chadwick here,” he said in that aristocratic, take-charge air that was more than a few decibels too loud.
“How are you this evening, Mayor?” God, Beth hoped he wanted to speak to her mother. The man could talk for hours without saying anything at all.
“I’m fine, darlin’, and you?”
“Couldn’t be better,” Beth lied through her teeth.
“The council and I are meeting at the diner tonight to organize our part of Ms. Colleen’s celebration. Seeing as you’re in charge of the planning now, we thought you might want to join us.”
Beth tamped down the groan that welled in her chest. “What time?” She glanced at her watch. It was six now.
“Six-thirty all right with you? Josie’s got chicken-fried steak on the blue plate special tonight.” He chuckled. “The best chicken-fried steak in the whole county, you know.”
Just what she needed, a plateful of cholesterol and an earful of bull. “Sure,” Beth agreed, wincing inwardly at what lay before her. “I’ll be there.”
“I’ve already called Zach. He’s coming, too.”
Beth’s jaw fell slack. The mayor said his goodbye and hung up before she could rally a verbal response. This couldn’t be happening already. She needed a little more time to prepare. To brace herself against Zach’s vast and varied charms.
Replacing the receiver, she turned back to her mother. Maybe she could talk Helen in to going with her. Beth was desperate.
“That was the mayor. He’s asked me to meet with the council to discuss Mrs. Ashton’s birthday. Why don’t you come with me, Mom?”
Her mother hesitated in her work, then slowly turned toward Beth. When their gazes locked the bright sheen of tears in her mother’s eyes startled Beth. Helen McCormick never cried. She was too strong. The only time in her entire life that Beth had ever seen her cry was after her father’s funeral.
“Please, let me help,” Beth urged gently. “Whatever is wrong can’t possibly be that bad.”
“No matter what happens,” her mother said, her voice trembling, “you remember that I love you more than anything in this world.”
“Mother—”
Helen shook her head. “Run along.” She resumed her potato peeling. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
FEELING SORELY out of sorts, Zach settled into the driver’s seat of his car and drove around to the McCormick’s home. Mayor Chadwick had mentioned inviting Beth to this dinner meeting. Since her car was still here it seemed reasonable that she hadn’t left yet. It also seemed reasonable for them to ride together. No point in driving two vehicles. It was definitely more economical to ride together, he concluded. And the time would give them a chance to discuss what was going on between their mothers.
As if either one of those excuses was his real motivation.
The truth was, he wanted to have a few minutes alone with her. It was that simple, and at the same time too complicated for him to understand completely.
Shutting off the engine, he pushed that admission away. It wouldn’t be neighborly of him not to ask her if she wanted a ride. Zach smiled as he got out of the car and started for the door. That’s right. This wasn’t the city. People still went out of their way to help their neighbor down here. His gesture wouldn’t be perceived as anything else. He certainly didn’t want Beth to get the wrong idea.
Not that he had the right idea. He had no clue what was going on inside his head. His emotions were in a turmoil—as much from his mother’s odd behavior as from his own. The whole situation was confusing. The one thing he was clear on was that his mother needed him, and he had to put all else aside. Especially these crazy urges where Beth was concerned.
Zach paused at the cottage’s weathered door. He studied the arched portal, and then the ivy covered rock that surrounded it. The place had always seemed magical to him. Beth’s father had been a wizard with plants and flowers. Her mother was always stirring something in a big pot and making the best cookies in the world. And Beth…well she was like the fairy princess who lived in the cottage. Who rehearsed her pirouettes in the moonlight and somehow appeared wherever he was by daylight. Whether he was practicing football or writing a history paper, she was there asking questions, trying to help, distracting him, making him laugh. Making him love her.
You do not want to go there, he reminded himself.
Shaking off the past, Zach raised his fist to knock at the same time the door opened.
Beth made a little sound of surprise and pressed her hand to her throat. “Oh. Hello, Zach,” she said in that throaty voice that reminded him all too much of just how grown-up little Beth was now.
Unable to check the impulse, his gaze immediately swept the rest of her and his heart rate reacted accordingly. The dress was a soft yellow, not too short, just a few inches above the knee, not exactly form-fitting, but not loose either. The neck didn’t scoop nearly low enough. All in all it was just a plain dress designed for comfort. But it was perfect and sexy as hell on her. The color contrasted the fresh, healthy glow of her skin. The lack of makeup and the fall of her silky hair around her smooth cheeks made her look twenty-one