Clarissa had never been so furious in her life. She stomped up the stairs, picked up Pierce’s empty glass and plate, and stormed into the house, slamming the door behind her. As usual, the door immediately flopped open, and waved back and forth on its hinges with the annoying creak it always made when ill-treated.
A burst of laughter from outside made her flush even hotter. She slapped the dishes down and whirled back to the door to face his supercilious look.
“While you’re looking for someone to share your life with, I’d make sure he knows how to build. This mausoleum is going to fall down around your ears if you don’t do something soon, Miss Cartwright. Not that I’m volunteering.” He frowned, took a step backward and shook his head. “No way! I’m not into masochism. Good night.”
Clarissa seethed with indignation. Of all the arrogant, rude, obnoxious men, Wade Featherhawk had to take the cake. She closed the door firmly on his snide words and then wondered if he’d been referring only to the house.
The phone pealed a summons and Clarissa picked it up reluctantly. Please Lord, not another busybody.
“Hi, Prissy! How was Hawaii?” Her college buddy, Blair Delayney’s bright voice echoed from the far reaches of the Rocky Mountains. “Meet any gorgeous men?”
“Nope, not a one. I’m still part of the group. How about you and Briony?” She wouldn’t say a thing about the one who’d just left her front yard.
It was an old joke. In college, all three women had planned to be married and then lost their grooms one way or another before the ceremony. Down but not out, they’d banded together, calling themselves the Three Spinsters, vowing never to go looking for love again.
The only problem was, none of them could seem to accept in their hearts that love wouldn’t find them. Someday.
“Oh, we’re both still old maids. How was the wedding?” Blair always demanded details.
“It was lovely. On the beach, at sunset. That exclusive club was something else, though I felt out of place. I didn’t know anyone except Great-Aunt Martha and she’s deaf.” Clarissa described the elegant dresses of the guests as best she could.
“I told you to take along a friend. Hawaii’s a hard place to be alone.” Blair’s voice softened in commiseration.
“Tell me about it.” Clarissa rested her cheek against the coolness of the wall. “Everywhere I went there were couples. Old ones, young ones, but always couples. Even some with kids.”
“I’m sorry, Priss.” Blair and Bri were the only two who knew how much she wanted to be a mother.
The old nickname came from her college days when she was constantly chiding them about cleaning up the apartment. It was somehow comforting to Clarissa. “Don’t be. I managed all right once the aunt left and I got to look around on my own. There’s this museum, Blair. You wouldn’t believe the stuff!”
She launched into a description of the Bishop Museum that left little time for her to recount the lonely evenings spent walking along the silver-lined sand by herself, longing for someone to share all that beauty with. By the time Blair rang off, she was hooting with laughter. Which was exactly what Clarissa wanted. No one feeling sorry for her.
She rinsed off the dishes and stacked them in the cavernous dishwasher, empty except for her dinner plate and cutlery. She considered Wade’s stinging assessment as she worked. Her lips pinched tight in anger as she remembered Pierce’s yearning look at the pie she’d made for Mr. Harper.
“We’ll see who has the last laugh, Mr. Wade Featherhawk. We’ll just see. I wouldn’t offer to help you if you begged me on bended knee!”
The mental picture this brought to mind made her burst out laughing. Wade Featherhawk, on his knees, to her?
“In your dreams, woman.” She giggled out loud. She’d often dreamed of being proposed to, but it wasn’t going to happen this time either, prayer notwithstanding. “Just forget about him.”
If only it was that easy.
Chapter Two
Two weeks later Wade glanced around the old-fashioned church and grimaced as he caught sight of Clarissa Cartwright’s willowy figure two pews ahead. Her dainty blue-and-white-flowered dress accentuated her gorgeous blond hair and the narrowness of her waist, along with other assets he forbade himself to notice. She was tiny. As he studied her clear profile and smooth white skin, his body tensed, his hands clenched and his jaw tightened. Wade told himself it was anger.
Everywhere he went these days, she seemed to be there, waiting in the wings, a silent reminder that he wasn’t a very good father, that he didn’t know diddly about parenting. That duty and obligation were no substitute for the mother’s love that the kids needed.
She never said a word, of course, but he knew she was inaudibly pointing out the fact that he didn’t have a clue as to what he was doing when it came to raising kids, especially girls.
Just his luck that Tildy and Lacey had Clarissa for a Sunday school teacher, Jared drew her as his special pal in Boys’ Club, and Pierce couldn’t stop singing the praises of her dim, moldy old library. Some luck, Wade decided grimly.
No sooner was Wade’s back turned than Clarissa invited one or the other of them over to that mausoleum. For a snack, to plan an outing, to practice a new recipe. Blah, blah, blah.
Wade was fed up to the teeth hearing about Miss Clarissa Cartwright and her wonderful life! All it did was make him look incompetent and lacking. Which he was! But he didn’t need it rubbed in.
“Good to see you here.” A man whose name Wade couldn’t remember pumped his hand up and down, his face beaming. “Glad to have you in Waseka.”
“Uh, thanks.” Wade felt vaguely ashamed of his churlish behavior. Not everyone was all bad.
“You ever bowl? We’re one short on our team and I sure wouldn’t mind getting someone who can roll a few strikes. Call me up if you’re interested. Ed Mason’s the name.”
“Thanks. I don’t have a lot of free time, but I’ll think about it.” Wade watched the other man saunter away, then turned to gather his brood. Instead, he found himself virtually alone inside the building. Now what?
He sauntered down the aisle and out the door. They were there on the lawn, all four of them, clustered around her, laughing and giggling. Probably at some remark she’d made about him. Wade felt his jaw tighten in annoyance and struggled to suppress it. Why did she get under his skin like this?
“Really? A picnic? What would we have?” That was Jared, consumed with the condition of his perpetually empty stomach.
“Mm, fried chicken, maybe? With potato salad. And watermelon scones.” Clarissa brushed a hand over Tildy’s riot of inexpertly permed curls. “Maybe some chocolate layer cake for dessert. Or strawberry shortcake. How does that sound?”
“Like I died and went to heaven.” Jared groaned, patting his ribs. “When can we go?”
“You can’t.” Wade walked up behind them, frowning in reproof at Clarissa. “Miss Cartwright has other things to do. And we can manage meals perfectly well on our own.”
“But Clarissa was going to teach me how to make fried chicken for my home ec class,” Tildy protested. “And Lacey wants to get some help with that biology paper.”
“I’ll help her. And we can buy fried chicken in town. Or make it at home. Let’s go.” He herded them toward the sidewalk. “Tildy, you, Lacey and the boys go ahead and get lunch started. I just have to stop and talk to someone for a minute. I’ll be right there.”
“Yes,