When he telephoned, his grandmother had been delighted by the idea of having a visitor Sunday afternoon. Joshua wished he shared the excitement, but he didn’t. Since waking up that morning, he’d felt a nagging uneasiness that wouldn’t let go of him. When he pulled into the driveway of Victoria’s cabin, the tension inside him settled into a knot in his stomach.
He realized he was waiting for the other shoe to drop; waiting for Victoria to realize she’d made a big mistake last night in so easily accepting what he was; waiting for her to look at him with either speculation or uncertainty. He wondered when he’d begun to care so much for Victoria’s opinion.
Before he brought the midnight-blue BMW to a full stop, she appeared at the door of the cabin, gave him an easy smile, and waved. She closed the cabin door behind her and walked out on the porch as he got out of the car. When he couldn’t find anything different or missing in her eyes, the tension magically dissolved. He still couldn’t read her emotions, but the smile was genuine. Victoria hadn’t changed because of what she’d learned last night.
The carefully camouflaged shyness that he found so sexy was still there, lurking beneath the surface. Instinctively, he knew she’d been watching for him, ready to walk out on the porch so she could avoid asking him inside. Not because he was a psychic. Not because he’d omitted a few details of his past. But because the physical tug-of-war going on between them scared the hell out of her. It had taken a midnight motorcycle ride to shake her reserve last time; he wondered what it would take this time.
“I see you got your wheels back,” she commented.
“This morning. The mechanic dropped it by on his way to church.”
“How convenient,” Victoria murmured, wondering if he’d arranged Friday night’s jaunt on the motorcycle on purpose.
“I thought so,” he agreed, and opened the passenger door for her.
“How far is it to your grandmother’s?”
“About twenty minutes,” he estimated as he watched her slide into the car, pulling her stocking-covered legs inside much too slowly for his peace of mind. Quietly, he cleared his throat. “You didn’t have to dress up.”
“Yes, I did. I want to make a good impression.” Victoria adjusted the simple but classic dress she wore so that the skirt wouldn’t crease from being sat upon. “Your grandmother had the job before I did. I don’t want her to think I am sloppy or dirty.”
Joshua shut the door and rounded the car. As he scooted behind the steering wheel, he told her, “Gran doesn’t judge people by what they wear.” Silently, he added, She goes a bit deeper than that.
“Good, because I look like a Sunday school teacher in this,” Victoria complained.
“If you’re what today’s Sunday school teachers are like”—Joshua started the car and put it in gear—“I’m going to have to start going to church again.”
“You don’t go?” Victoria asked in surprise. He had impressed her as the kind of man who held deep convictions.
“Not for years.”
“Not at all?”
Joshua waited a second or two and simply said, “I don’t like crowds.”
Victoria sucked in a breath and realized her error. The fallout from the highs and lows of people’s emotions would have been terrible for him. She stumbled through an apology. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“No, you didn’t.” He took his eyes off the road long enough to exchange a brief glance. “So don’t worry. Enjoy the scenery instead.”
Grateful for his understanding, Victoria stopped agonizing over her blunder and paid attention to the mountains. The trees were beginning the final surrender to autumn, forming a tapestry of evergreen, gold, and deep red. Sycamores splashed a rich yellow-orange onto the canvas of fall; the basswood trees added a shiny bronze. Each day brought more color to the landscape. By the end of the week she knew the views would be spectacular. All she had to do was wait.
As they drove, Victoria confessed, “One of the things I like about the mountains is the sense of order. The sense that everything that should happen will happen—in its own time.”
“That’s what I’m counting on.” Joshua looked sideways at her to be sure she understood the subtext of his remark. She turned her usual shade of pink, and Joshua wondered exactly how much of her turned pink when she blushed.
Victoria chose not to say anything else, letting the conversation drift into a companionable silence. When Joshua turned off the highway onto the road leading to his grandmother’s house, Victoria leaned forward in her seat. She felt like a kid about to meet Santa Claus.
Through the trees she could see the large house which was board-sided and unpainted. Shake shingles covered the roof instead of tin, and the porch was nearly covered with plants. It wasn’t until they were quite close that Victoria realized the hanging planters were aluminum buckets in various sizes. An old woman with short-cropped white hair stood on the front step to greet them, and her eyes were piercing even from a distance.
Lara Logan stood alone on her porch as the car pulled up the hill, and the couple got out. She drew the shawl more closely around her shoulders and smiled to herself. She could already sense the bond between the two. This young woman had the feel of babies about her, and Joshua’s soul felt less burdened than it had in a long time. Finally, she told herself, she had hope of holding a great-grandchild in her arms before being called home. The gift had to be passed on. A fact which J.J. had never accepted.
As the couple walked toward her, she noted the steadying hand J.J. held against the girl’s back; the way she accepted his touch as natural. But Lara didn’t get the impression they were lovers, which caused her to look askance at J.J. Where were the boy’s brains? Surely he didn’t intend to let this one slip through his fingers?
“Hello, Gran.” Joshua felt her disapproval before he even saw it in her glance, but was at a loss to explain it, especially when his grandmother smiled charmingly at Victoria as he made the introduction. “This is Victoria Bennett. Victoria, this is my grandmother, Lara Logan.”
Victoria hesitated a second beneath the sharp, penetrating gaze of the older woman and then extended her hand. “I’m glad to meet you, Mrs. Logan. I’ve heard a lot about you from the community.”
“Nothin’ interesting, I’m sure. I’m long past causing good conversation.” Lara Logan took her hand and covered it with the other one, patting it companionably. “Everyone calls me Granny Logan, ’cept for J.J. I believe I’d like it if you would too.”
“I’d love to.”
Lara patted her hand one last time and let go. J.J. would have to step careful with this one. She wouldn’t accept half-measures. For this young woman it would be all or nothing.
“Both of you, come inside. I’ve got water on the boil for tea.” A hoot owl called in the distance, and Lara shook her head. “Going to be a bad winter, J.J. You be careful on the roads this year.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Victoria grabbed hold of Joshua’s arm as she passed him, and whispered, “J.J.?”
“Joshua John.”
She smiled. “Of course. What else? It’s perfect.”
Lara’s home was as lived-in as Joshua’s was sparse. Bits and pieces of her life were everywhere, from the delicate wood carving of a mother and child to the old television topped with the current issue of TV Guide.
“Talk amongst yourselves while I get the tea,” Lara ordered with a dismissive wave as she slipped her shawl off and disappeared into another room.
Instead of talking, Victoria explored the collection of photographs on an antique credenza protected by a lacy shawl. A very old sepia-toned portrait depicted a well-dressed but stern man and his wife who had a toddler straddling her knee and two other children in their Sunday best beside her. Victoria smiled. None of the children was wearing shoes, and the toddler had an unusually direct gaze that looked a great deal like the one Lara Logan leveled at her earlier.
A picture from the early 1900s featured a handsome coal miner whose strong jaw and mouth reminded her of Joshua’s. Judging from the age of the photograph, she decided it was his grandfather. More often than not, however, the photos were of a dark-haired youth, at various ages and possessing only the ghost of a smile, looking directly into the camera.
“Most of these are you,” she said.
“Naturally. I’m her only grandchild.”
Victoria turned to look at him. “Really?”
“Don’t look so surprised. Surely you weren’t expecting me to be the seventh son of a seventh son?”
“No, I wasn’t,” she told him indignantly before she realized he was actually teasing her. Then she smiled ruefully and admitted, “I was expecting another stereotype altogether. I assumed you were one of a passel of young ’uns raised barefoot on the mountain.”
Joshua laughed. “Good Lord, I guess you have read all the travel brochures.”
“Okay, so I was wrong. But you don’t seem like an only child. You’re too good at irritating me not to have had some sibling practice.”
“Gran would have liked nothing better than to have had a passel, but my grandfather died in a mining accident after my father was born. Dad was an only child, and Gran never remarried. Now there’s just me.”
Victoria didn’t have a chance to say anything else because Granny Logan’s footsteps announced her return.
“I made regular tea for you, J.J. Victoria, I have chamomile if you’d like,” Lara offered as she walked into the room, carrying a tray with two teapots, one in a Blue Willow pattern and one decorated with dogwood blossoms. Carefully, she set the heavy tray down on the coffee table, “You strike me as the kind of woman who might enjoy chamomile.”
“I’d love some,” Victoria assured Lara as she watched her pour with a sure and steady hand that belied her age and swollen knuckle joints. “You didn’t have to go to the extra trouble though.”
“The regular tea’s the trouble. I have to stock it special for J.J. Myself, I usually have mint or chamomile. ’Course, now, in the winter, I’m partial to pokeberry juice ’cause it helps my rheumatism.”
“Thank you.” Victoria accepted the cup from her and sat down in the sturdy rocking chair by the credenza. “I recommend chamomile to my patients on a regular basis. I swear by it actually.”
Quickly, Lara looked up from pouring and straight at Joshua. “Patients? Don’t tell me you’ve unbent long enough to socialize with a doctor, of all things?”
“I’m not a doctor,” Victoria rushed to explain, wondering what else Joshua had forgotten to mention. “I’m the new midwife in the Triangle.”
A slow smile spread over the older woman’s face as she handed her grandson his tea. “Well now … that explains the babies.”
“Babies?” Uncertainly, Victoria looked at Joshua for a cue.
He shrugged.
Lara didn’t explain until she poured her tea, sat down in the armchair, and had the first sip. “When you came up to the steps, I thought to myself that you had the feel of babies about you. I’ve always been partial to babies.”
“That’s one of the reasons I asked Joshua for an introduction. I understand that you were the lay midwife in this area for quite some time.”
“Lord, child, longer than I care to think about.” Lara put her feet up on small three-legged stool and adjusted the pillow behind her back. “Nigh onto fifty years. Had to quit because I couldn’t get around anymore.”
“Rheumatism?”
“No. J.J. finally grew up and went off to college. When he left, I couldn’t get around the mountain like I was used to. At night, I can’t see my feet at the end of my legs, and the good Lord knows that new babies love the night.”
Victoria grinned. “Seems like it. Those are the ones we remember, at any rate. You know, I seem to be providing care to women whom you delivered. Naomi Marlowe, for instance. In fact, she said you attended her mother a number of times.”
“Lord yes!” Lara shook her head and sighed. “For a while I counted the seasons by Willie Marlowe. Come fall every year, she had another. Naomi was an easy one. But the last … now, that one was touch-and-go for a while.”
Stunned, Victoria really hadn’t expected the midwife to remember. “Can you recall all of your deliveries that well?”
“No, but Willie had eight in a row. She kind of stuck in my memory. You’ll have ’em that lodge in your memory too. It’s unavoidable. If you care about your people.” Lara looked at her long and thoughtfully before she said, “And you do.”
“Yeah, I do.” Victoria was beginning to get used to the piercing looks and the long silences from the older midwife. “I like that connection with my patients. But getting the practice going has been difficult. If it hadn’t been for Joshua, I’d still be floundering around, I think.”
“What have you got to do with all this, J.J.?”
“Not much, Gran. I’m a glorified chauffeur. That’s all.”
It was his turn to endure one of her silent inspections. He didn’t bother to try to hide his feelings for Victoria, deciding to let his grandmother make of them what she would. He sure as hell wasn’t certain exactly what they were beyond a fundamental caring and a physical lust.
Raising her eyebrow, his grandmother turned away and spoke to Victoria. “Well, you certainly couldn’t have picked a more experienced man. Lord knows, he rode me around for years,” Lara said as she turned to Victoria. “Long before he had his driver’s license, he was hauling me over these roads in the dead of night.”
Victoria shot a look at Joshua as he leaned comfortably back into the sofa. “Did he drive unconscionably fast then too?”
Laughing, Lara said, “Yes. He always did have a feel for the road though. I never worried a moment when he was driving. ’Course, I was younger then. Not so sure I could take it now.”
“I’ll remember that the next time you want to go into town,” Joshua told her dryly.
Calmly, Lara sipped her tea. “There’s a lot of things you’d best remember, Joshua John. Not the least of which is that I still cook your Thanksgiving dinner.”
Victoria laughed out loud. Joshua pretended to be chastised. Lara nodded her head in satisfaction and turned her attention to the younger woman. “Where are you from? A voice like that ain’t bred in Tennessee.”
“Connecticut.”
“Then why are you delivering our babies?”
“The Triangle made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. They helped me pay for my education.”
“In return for what?”
“In return for working here for three years.”
“And after that?”
“And after that I won’t feel like a weight is hanging over my head.”
“You don’t plan to leave?” Lara asked, casually swirling the liquid in her cup.
“No.”
“There’s not much money around here,” she warned.
“I’ve begun to figure that out. But there are other benefits. I’ve always had an interest in folk medicine and medicinal herbs. It’s an expensive hobby in the city, but out here … well, I can’t wait for spring.”
Joshua watched as his grandmother set her cup down and eagerly began an earnest discussion of her favorite remedies and the dried stock she had on hand. Before long they were huddled together on the couch, heads bowed over his grandmother’s journal, which was filled with recipes she’d written down over the years. He’d known that Victoria and his grandmother would suit each other. In many ways, they were alike. While they talked, he refilled his cup and quietly enjoyed their pleasure at finding a kindred spirit.
“What do you mean by this?” Victoria asked, and pointed to an entry.
Lara studied it for a moment. “Oh. Claudie Anderson’s boy burnt his hand while his mother was down. I always stayed with the families for a day or so after the babies were born. Doing whatever needed to be done. Most times it was catching up the wash and making a meal or two.”
“It says here that you ‘fixed up his burn.’ ”
“Wasn’t much of a burn. Only took a second. Hardest part was getting him settled down so I could pull the fire out of it.”
“What did you use?”
“I like to use a bittersweet salve, but I didn’t have any that day, so I used the touch. It wasn’t much of a burn. Didn’t take no more than a second or two.”
Joshua straightened in his chair, waiting for Victoria’s reaction. This is what he was afraid of—medicine meeting the unexplained. Accepting psychic abilities in the field of archaeology was a far cry from accepting what most people labeled as faith or psychic healing. He set his cup down, the chink of it against the saucer rim breaking the quiet.
“Touch?” echoed Victoria. “You have the ability to heal by touch?”
“Not the way J.J. does, but I can do a fair job with burns.”
Victoria shot a stunned look at Joshua, who returned her stare, neither admitting nor denying his grandmother’s offhand comment. He was testing her again, waiting for a reaction. “Joshua can do it too?”
“You get him to show you sometime.”
“Oh, I will,” Victoria said, her eyes still on Joshua’s. Though his expression was unreadable, his eyes had darkened to a deep blue.
“It’s late,” he said. “We need to get back.”
“He’s right,” Victoria said, and everyone stood up. She handed her cup to the older woman. “Is it all right if I come back and see you? I don’t want to be a pest, but I’d be willing to pay for your time if you’d show me some of what you know about medicinal plants.”
Lara smiled and nodded. “I’d like that, but I won’t take your money.” She raised a brow and looked at Joshua as she said, “Passing on what I know would be a treat.”
Kissing her on the cheek, Joshua said good-bye and hurried Victoria to the car. The silence lasted for a scant five seconds.
“Okay, let’s start with why you didn’t tell your grandmother why I wanted to see her.” Even though she had her seat belt on, Victoria managed to turn and wedge herself between seat and door so she could keep an eye on him.
Why hadn’t he? Joshua wondered. Simple. He had wanted to see if his grandmother could read her any better, and Gran could. That much had been obvious after the hand-pat on the porch and the baby statement. “I wanted to know if you kept everybody out, or just me, Looks like it’s just me.”
“What do you mean?”
“What you said about not having any fresh intimacies on your conscience? That was good thinking. I think Gran probably knows more about you than you want known.”
“Excuse me?”
“Gran’s been rifling through your emotions. Her talent is based on touch too. That hand-patting on the porch? That’s pretty much how she camouflages her snooping.”
“And you let her!”
“Would you like to tell me how I could have stopped her? You’re the one who wanted to talk to her. I didn’t exactly drag you up there.”
“No, you didn’t,” she conceded, but with a tiny twinge of lingering resentment.
“If it’s any consolation, Gran won’t tell me what she knows. She won’t even hint about what you’re hiding.”
“What makes you think I have anything to hide?”
“The eight-foot wall that keeps me out.”
“Oh, that.”
“Yeah, that. She also likes you. I’ve never seen her share her journal with anyone.”
“It was fascinating,” Victoria said. Remembering the journal sparked excitement all over again. “She said she has a couple of books that are older than the one she showed me. I can’t even comprehend how much information is crammed on those pages, and she truly doesn’t think they’re anything special. You know, she was charting deliveries without even knowing she was doing it; noting down which medicinal plants she found to be effective and which were a waste of time.”
Joshua negotiated a sharp curve as he murmured, “The two of you looked thick as thieves.”
“I could have talked to her for hours. I’ve never been much of a diarist, but after seeing hers, after seeing all those experiences and emotions jump off the page, I realize that I don’t want to forget the details of my life. I don’t want my children to forget.”
“Gran says, ‘We don’t bequeath what we collect; we contribute what we create.’ ”
Softly, Victoria repeated the saying. “What a wonderful way of looking at life. My grandmother, on the other hand, would say, ‘The one with the biggest pile of stuff wins.’ ”
Chuckling, Joshua asked, “And is her pile the biggest yet?”
“Let’s just say that she is definitely in the semifinals. She’s completely different from your grandmother. How old is Granny Logan? Exactly?”
Joshua did some fast math. He never bothered to keep up with the actual years, mostly because he didn’t want to face the reality of all those years adding up. “Ninety-two come January.”
“Has she always been able to heal?” Victoria asked, and then realized she’d probably trod on a sensitive area. When Lara Logan confessed to having a healing touch, Joshua’s face had done a fair imitation of immovable granite. She doubted he wanted to discuss the subject now, but she’d already broached it. So she hurried to assure him that her interest wasn’t idle curiosity.
“The reason I ask is that I’ve done a little reading about therapeutic touch, and I’ve seen it used in hospices. It can have such a calming effect as well as reducing the level of pain. I wondered if she learned it or if it was simply something she could always do.”
In a flat tone Joshua said, “I don’t know. I never asked.”
Victoria blinked. “You never asked?”
“We don’t discuss the subject.”
“The healing?”
“Any of it.”
“Why?”
“We don’t agree.”
“About what?”
“Any of it.”
Victoria’s eyebrows rose in surprise at his curt answers. Softly, she said, “Your grandmother said you could do it too. The healing.”
“But I don’t. Now, can we drop this interrogation?” His tone was as effective as a warning siren that the topic was off-limits.
“Okay.” After that response she didn’t dare ask him anything else about his ability to heal. However, she noted that he said he didn’t heal, not that he couldn’t. “But I do have to ask one more question.”
Joshua sighed, anticipating the worst. “All right.”
“Would you mind stopping for dinner? I’m really hungry.”
Pleasantly surprised, Joshua agreed, knowing dinner would give him a chance to remind Victoria of the chemistry between them. “What do you have in mind?”
“There’s that little hole-in-the-wall place down past Mention.”
“Why would you want to go there?” Joshua asked, a little disturbed that her choice felt more like a buddy-date place.
“Last week I saw a tractor parked in front of it. I swear!” She held up her fingers in a Girl Scout oath. “I figure if a guy is so eager for lunch that he won’t take the time to get off his tractor and get in his car, then the food has got to be pretty good.”
“Good point.” Joshua nodded his head in understanding. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed that Victoria took her food seriously. “Katie’s Grill it is.”
By the time dinner was done and he was standing on Victoria’s front porch, Joshua had a whole new appreciation for buddy-dates. He’d discovered they had a way of turning into something unexpected. He’d been out on two real dates with Victoria, and both times all he thought about was her. When he was with her, the world faded away. Like now. He was aware of only the dark night with a quarter moon, the woman in front of him, and the bed behind the door.
“Well … good night.” Victoria was absently playing with her key, rubbing it between her thumb and index finger. “And thanks for dinner.”
Carefully, Joshua took the key, and reached behind her to unlock the door without ever shifting his gaze from her face. “Most women would be scared living out in the middle of nowhere like this. I’d be happy to check and see if any bears have broken in while you’ve been gone. If you need me, that is.”
Victoria cleared her throat. He was too close. All of a sudden the relaxed and laughing friend who’d sat across the table was gone, and in his place was a very sexy man. The intensity that always affected her equilibrium was back in his eyes. She managed to say, “I don’t need you. But thank you. I’m sure the bears are all asleep for the winter. I’m probably safe.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it. Bears don’t actually hibernate. They shift gears to a lower speed, but they’re still out there, foraging.”
“You make it sound like they’re ready to gobble me up,” Victoria whispered as she stepped backward and bumped into the door, which swung open.
Joshua’s hand snaked around her waist and pulled her back. “Maybe they are.”
Both of them knew this conversation had nothing to do with bears. Joshua lowered his head and kissed her. He nibbled at her lips, growing more impatient with each touch, but he stopped short of gobbling her up. When he raised his head, he smiled at her. “ ’Night, Vicky.”
Victoria wrote a few notes and closed the chart with a shake of her head. When Wally had given it to her, he’d been as charming as ever. He truly hadn’t seemed to mind that Rachel Shelby wanted to change practitioners. Wonders never ceased, and neither did the passage of time. She could hardly believe it had been two weeks since she’d delivered Rachel’s baby.
When Rachel came out of the examination room, Victoria looked up and smiled. “I want to see you again in four weeks. That will be your last postpartum checkup. After that, unless you have a problem, you can return to an annual checkup schedule.”
“Can I call you back about scheduling the last checkup?” Rachel put down the baby seat. “I’m in the middle of preparations for the family reunion, and I can barely think right now.”
“I’d imagine you barely have time to breathe with a two-week-old infant and a reunion to juggle. How’d that happen?”
“Well, it’s a small family and they didn’t mind switching the location to here at the last minute. I didn’t want to travel with Billy yet, but I really wanted to show him off.”
Victoria looked down at the happy baby who lay in the brightly colored baby seat at Rachel’s feet. He was gorgeous and hadn’t made a peep since Rachel arrived. He opened his eyes occasionally and sighed with contentment.
“He’s ready to travel,” Victoria assured her.
“Well, I’m not!” Rachel laughed. “I’m just now getting the hang of this mommy stuff. Coming here today was a major event. It took me an hour to organize and get out of the house this morning. As it was, I almost forgot this.” She rummaged in Billy’s diaper bag and pulled out a flyer. “Here. It’s a map and an invitation to the reunion this weekend.”
Startled, Victoria took it from her. “Why would you invite me?”
“Are you kidding? You’re the guest of honor. Billy’s the newest member of the clan, and you delivered him. It’s not anything fancy. We’re having it on our land. It’s more of a picnic. Kids will be running wild, and the adults will pretty much have to fend for themselves. But you’d be welcome. And bring a date, of course.”
Victoria didn’t quite know what to say. Rachel seemed so earnest and genuine in her invitation. “I’d like to accept, but I never know with my schedule. I’ve got one patient due a few days after that. Is it okay if I just show up if I can make it?”
“Sure.” Rachel picked Billy up, smiling at the baby as if she were struck all over again by what a miracle he was. “I’ve raved to everyone about how you helped me through this, and Rob would like to say thanks too. Try to come, okay? I know two of my sisters-in-law are dying to meet you. It’d be good for business,” she promised.
Unable to resist, Victoria agreed. Once Rachel left, Victoria reached for the oversize purse she carried and fished out the journal she kept with her most of the time now. The bits and pieces of her life were beginning to weave themselves into a tapestry, giving her a feeling of security. Joshua had tried to sneak a peek inside her book the last time he was over, but she’d caught him and whisked it out of his hands, officially notifying him that this was off-limits. He wouldn’t talk about healing, and she didn’t want to share her journal. Fair was fair. Especially since some of the pages had to do with Joshua and the attraction she spent a lot of energy fighting.
The practice was growing steadily, so she no longer had the excuse of needing all her energies to build it up. Women were knocking on her door now instead of the other way around. Joshua was knocking on her door too, and she was running out of excuses. Their relationship had hit a stalemate. They were beyond friendship but not yet lovers.
Intellectually, she recognized that she was afraid to go further because she was hung up on finding a man that instinctively believed in and trusted her. Regardless of that tidy speech about giving trust to get trust, she was still waiting for Joshua to change the same way she kept waiting for Richard to change.
Maybe it was time she stopped waiting and just plunged right in.
“Explain to me again why we’re going to this shindig?” Joshua teased her as they got out of her Range Rover, which, in a fit of generosity, she had allowed him to drive for once.
“We are here,” Victoria explained, shoving her arms into a blue-jean jacket, “so I can bask in the glory of having delivered the newest member of this family.”
“Oh?” Joshua commented, and grabbed her hand to pull her back as she started toward the throng of people gathered by the river’s edge. “I thought you didn’t care about glory.”
“This is different. It’s not really my glory. It’s Rachel’s glory. I just get to share.”
“Sharing. Isn’t that where you play with her toys and she can’t complain when you break them?”
“Something like that.” Victoria smiled. She could get used to the quiet, gentle teasing of Joshua Logan.
He ran a finger down the bridge of her nose and over her lips to her chin. “It isn’t fair for you to look like this in public. The nip in the air has made your cheeks pink. Your lips are incredible, and you look about eighteen with your hair in that ponytail. I feel like I’m robbing the cradle.”
Victoria laughed and eyed him critically. He wore a flannel shirt open at the neck with a wheat-colored T-shirt beneath, loose-fitting jeans, and expensive leather sneakers. “Six years’ difference is not robbing the cradle. You don’t look old. Except for maybe that tiny bit of gray at the temples. And the worry you get around your eyes when you have to meet a crowd of people. They don’t bite you know.”
“Not when I’m around you,” Joshua told her seriously. “I’m so damn busy wanting you that I tend to ignore all the other signals.”