The Accidental Bride Page 13

  “I know that. Doesn’t mean they wouldn’t suit.” The mayor continued to sip her coffee. She sat up straighter as Walker emerged from the coffee shop and followed Jilly to her car. She gave a soft laugh. “What did I tell you? The man deserves a good woman beside him. And you know as well as I do that that’s what had everyone lined up at Jonathan’s place today. It wasn’t for the coffee, no sir. People were hoping to get a look at this woman who’s brought Walker out of his shell. And I like her, skittish or not.”

  Her old friend cleared his throat. “That may well be, but take a look at them now. If that isn’t an argument, I don’t know what is.”

  “Can’t you stop being so pessimistic, Tom?” The mayor clicked her tongue. “That’s a discussion, that’s what it is. Walker is a man who knows what he wants. When he sees it, he’ll go after it. Just for the record, my money’s on the marine.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  JILLY’S HEART WAS POUNDING.

  She was pretty sure it wasn’t because of altitude or dehydration or anything to do with her medical problem. It was the cursed Walker Effect. All he had to do was lean close and talk in that slow, careful way of his and Jilly forgot every careful plan in her life. Like right now.

  She didn’t want kids. She didn’t know anything about kids. She had no idea how a family worked. And she wasn’t cut out to be a mother anyway. She was too impatient, too critical. She’d never know how to soothe a frightened boy or doctor a scraped knee.

  Having a family had never made it into her day planner.

  And then Walker had picked up that toddler and ruffled his hair and Jilly’s heart had twisted in circles. For a moment, just a moment, she had wondered what if she could have a family?

  And that was insane.

  Muttering, she shoved the key into the ignition. Once she got back to the resort she was going to dive into a knitting class—any knitting class—to stop this total insanity and fixation with Walker.

  She heard a tap at her window. Her heart took another quick twist when she saw Walker leaning down. He made a little circular gesture for her to roll down her window, and Jilly was tempted to ignore him, but she wasn’t that far gone.

  She had her pride, after all.

  She rolled the window down a crack. “Something wrong?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing. You ran out of there so fast that Jonathan is convinced he said something to offend you.”

  “What? No—it’s nothing Jonathan said. You can tell him that.”

  Walker rested one hand on the glass. “Then maybe it was something I said.”

  “It wasn’t anything that either of you said.”

  Walker turned his battered cowboy hat, smoothing the brim with his long fingers. Jilly was fascinated by those slow, careful movements.

  “So you’re not angry?”

  Jilly sighed. “I can’t explain it, okay?”

  “Why don’t you try?” Walker said quietly.

  Jilly swallowed hard. She didn’t want to be rude or abrupt, but she didn’t want to dissect what felt like an open wound. She was still trying to figure out all these new feelings. “I got edgy. Too many people crammed in that small space. And then I saw that boy. I could have spilled hot coffee on him, Walker. I could have jostled that pitcher of steamed milk and he would have gotten badly burned. What if—”

  “Don’t.” Walker reached in the window and rested his hand on Jilly’s. “None of that happened. I may have seen him first, but you would have noticed. You’re sharp that way.”

  “Am I?” Jilly didn’t think so. When Walker was around, her senses dimmed to a tunnel focused completely on him. “You’re good with kids. Teddy loved your magic trick.”

  “My sister’s got four boys. I like kids.” He turned the hat slowly. “What about you?”

  “I couldn’t say.” Carefully Jilly drew her hand away from his. “I was an only child.” She didn’t know if it was true. She had no idea what she was. But why was she discussing this anyway?

  “Look, I’m sorry if I was abrupt.” She stared off at the distant glistering mountains. “I’ll call Jonathan later and explain, but everything’s fine. It’s the way I am.” Jilly shrugged. “I get edgy.”

  “You’re sure that’s all it was? You aren’t feeling chest pains or a racing pulse?”

  She shot a quick glance at Walker and saw the concern in his eyes. “It wasn’t physical, not heart problems or anything like that. I just felt…a little claustrophobic.” Jilly studied her short, stubby nails and the sprinkling of scars from old cooking burns. There was a deeper scar at her wrist from cooking school, when another student had dropped his heavy butcher’s knife on her hand. Jilly had never really thought of her work as being dangerous, but she realized other people would think so.

  Yet she’d take the risk of a few lacerations or grease burns over this deep, gnawing sense of need. If she kept staring into Walker’s blue eyes, she might get so lost that she never came back to reality. “You probably have a busy day ahead of you,” she muttered. “I don’t want to keep you.”

  She couldn’t stay here talking. Because Jilly knew this well. If you wanted things too much, you got hurt. And she wasn’t going to get hurt again.

  “I’m glad there’s nothing wrong. I didn’t say anything to Jonathan, but I thought maybe you were having some symptoms. If it happens, you should tell me.”

  Of course she should. The man would be a rock of stability, calm in any crisis. She, on the other hand, went into adrenaline overdrive. She could tackle hard challenges, but she had a tendency to become a lunatic, yelling and screaming. People ended up avoiding her afterward.

  Were two people ever more different?

  “Can we drop this subject? I’m fine, Walker.”

  “Then why haven’t you looked at me for more than two seconds in a row?”

  Because she wanted to look at him too much. She wanted to look at him all day and all night. He had already become too important to her, and she needed to get away before she said something really stupid.

  Like the truth.

  “Gee, it’s almost noon. If I don’t hurry, I’m going to miss the afternoon knitting classes,” she said brightly. “So unless there’s something else…”

  Walker cleared his throat. “Actually, there is. I had a question for you. A favor, really. Feel free to tell me to shove off, but it’s about Winslow. Something’s come up.”

  Jilly shot him a worried look. “There’s nothing wrong with Winslow, is there? He’s not sick or anything?”

  “He’s doing great. The thing is, I got a call this morning. I have to go out of town for forty-eight hours. It’s last minute, and I don’t want to put Winslow through the stress of a long plane ride. There are other people I could ask, but he likes you a lot, Jilly.” Walker turned his hat slowly. “So I was wondering if you would consider…”

  “You want to leave him with me? I’d love that!” Jilly frowned. What did he mean about taking Winslow with him on the plane? “It’s none of my business, Walker, but do you always travel with Winslow?”

  Walker’s eyes were unreadable. “Sometimes he goes with me. It’s work, Jilly.”

  “What kind of work?”

  Walker kept turning the cowboy hat. “Can’t talk about it.”

  “Does this have something to do with the military? I know that you and Winslow worked together.” Jilly took a deep breath. “Back in Afghanistan.”

  “There’s a connection,” Walker said quietly. “But I can’t say more. The fact is, Winslow got pretty banged up over there on our last tour.” Walker’s voice was rough. “I almost lost him. But that boy is tough, and we got him through it. All the same, I don’t like to put him through the strain of long-distance travel in a crate if I don’t have to.”

  “And you trust me to take care of him?” Jilly said softly. “Anybody in this town would watch Winslow for you, Walker. They wouldn’t think twice about saying yes.”

  “Well, I’m not asking any
one in town. I’m asking you, Jilly. You got a special way with animals. And Winslow is more than halfway in love with you.” Walker gave a dry laugh. “Did I tell you that he won’t eat the jerky treat you gave him? No, ma’am. He takes it to his doggy bed every night and curls up with it. He goes to sleep with his head right on top of it.” Walker rubbed his jaw. “That’s a doggy crush if I ever saw one.”

  Jilly couldn’t think of an answer. The truth was, she was already half in love with Winslow herself. “I’d love to have him stay with me, Walker. You’d bring all his stuff? I mean, every dog has a favorite blanket and toy.” Jilly frowned. “I wish I had more jerky. I’ll talk to Red. I can make a bunch of snacks and leave them with you. The dog’s supposed to eat them, not sleep with them,” she said, laughing.

  “You’re sure he wouldn’t be a bother? First Jonathan puts you on emergency coffee duty. Now I’m sweet-talking you into taking care of my dog. And you’re supposed to be here on vacation.”

  Jilly saw the uncertainty in his eyes. He wouldn’t ask for more than she wanted to give. The man had a solid code of honor that would touch every corner of his life. “Of course he won’t be a bother. It would be a total hoot to take him along with me to knitting class. I think he would be quite a sensation. I might even knit him a little scarf to wear. Unless you think that’s too girly?”

  Walker gave a crooked grin. “Knit away. Winslow will love anything you make for him.”

  Wind swirled up the street, tossing leaves around the car. Neither one spoke for long moments. The line in front of the coffee shop was thinning, but not much. Jilly looked down, picking at her nail. “So…when are you leaving?”

  “Tomorrow morning. If it’s okay, I can bring him by the resort. He has full certification as a service dog, so you can take him anywhere, even a classroom.”

  “It doesn’t surprise me. Anyone with eyes can see that Winslow is very special.”

  “There’s one other thing. It would mean a lot to Winslow. To me, too.” Walker’s eyes darkened. “We were hoping…that is, we were wondering if you’d like to have dinner tonight.”

  The force of her response made Jilly freeze, panicked. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she said quietly.

  “I see. If you don’t want to, I won’t ask again.”

  “No.” Jilly reached out and tugged the hat from his fingers. She wanted his full attention when she came to this part. “I do want to, Walker. That’s the problem. I want to talk with you. I want to look at you and I want to watch those slow, careful movements you make when you’re turning that hat and thinking something over. Don’t you see? It’s getting personal here, and I’m no good at personal. Personal scares me to death. I’m great at transient. Some people would even say I’m excellent at irresponsible.”

  “You’re not irresponsible.” Walker looked up, his eyes shifting with emotions that Jilly couldn’t read. “You don’t strike me as someone who is afraid of a challenge, either. And personal could be…interesting. So what do you say? Dinner at eight, at my place. I’m cooking.”

  “I—I don’t know.”

  Walker’s lips curved. “Admit it. You’re itching to know what I’m going to cook, but the only way you’ll know is by saying yes.”

  Jilly closed her eyes. Personal was so dangerous. So messy. Where would this end?

  “Fine. Eight o’clock. You better make something wonderful.”

  “Count on it.”

  Somehow, despite all Jilly’s best intentions, she found herself smiling back at him, enjoying the glint of heat that filled his eyes.

  Even though she was certain they were both going to regret this.

  * * *

  “THAT’S RIGHT, A KNITTING class. I’m in line right now.” Jilly held the phone closer, trying to be heard against the chatter around her. “Which class? Cables. At least I think that’s what it was. The picture in the catalog looked nice.”

  “That’s wonderful, Jilly.” Caro sounded delighted. “I’m sorry we tricked you. It seemed the only way at the time. It looks like a beautiful place.”

  “Totally beautiful. Mountains in every direction. Clear, cool air. I admit I was mad at first. You know how I hate when anyone lies to me. Now I’m actually enjoying myself. I learned some basic knitting skills this morning, and I think I’ll use those cables on the blanket I’m making.”

  Caro cleared her throat. “So this man you mentioned last time we spoke—he’s a visitor at the resort?”

  “No, he’s a local. Ex-marine. Actually, he’s invited me for dinner tonight, and I said yes. It must be this mountain air.”

  “You do sound different. More relaxed. But this man, how well do you know him, Jilly?”

  “Sorry, Caro, I have to go. Class is starting, and it’s a madhouse. Don’t worry, I’ll call you tomorrow. Every detail. The full nine yards.”

  “But this man that you—”

  A bell rang. Immediately Jilly was engulfed in a wave of eager knitters. “Talk to you tomorrow, Caro. And stop worrying, will you? Everything’s fine here.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  WALKER FINISHED SCRUBBING down the counter and then studied the kitchen. His chili was ready in the refrigerator. The salad was set to toss. The floor was freshly mopped and he put out the set of handwoven place mats his sister had sent him for his last birthday.

  Maybe he should call Darrah.

  Walker frowned. Maybe not. The last time they’d spoken, they’d both gotten angry. They never would agree about the direction Walker had chosen for his life.

  He shoved away thoughts of his family before they could ruin his mood. One piece of good news was clear. Winslow’s hip seemed to be doing better. With any luck their last field action in Afghanistan would fade from the dog’s mind, too.

  As if he had picked up Walker’s thoughts, Winslow trotted in from the living room, tail wagging.

  And darned if he wasn’t carrying that old piece of jerky Jilly had given him at the airport. Walker reached down and ruffled the dog’s fur. “Well, buddy, the house looks as good as it’s going to get. And you look ready for a guest shot on Animal Planet. What about me?” Walker rubbed his jaw, glancing at his reflection in the mirror near the door. Hearing the pensive sound of his owner’s voice, Winslow pressed closer to Walker’s leg. “Yeah, I know. It’s not like a major date or anything. If I get dressed up, it would probably scare her off. I’ve never seen anyone more ticklish than Jilly O’Hara.” Walker glanced down at the threadbare cuffs of his old plaid shirt and frowned. “Maybe it’s time you and I did some shopping. You could use a new leash, and those old boots of mine have a hole in the sole. I’ve had them repaired three times. Probably time to get a new pair. Nothing fancy, mind you. Black, like I always wear. But maybe a little stitching on the toes.” Walker ran his hand over Winslow’s back and nodded. “Not that it’s a big, official date or anything,” he muttered.

  He glanced at the clock on the wall and then reached for Winslow’s leash.

  “I figure we just have enough time to make two stops on the way to get Jilly.”

  * * *

  JILLY DIDN’T KNOW WHERE the afternoon went. She hadn’t dreamed there was so much to learn about knitting—or that she would have so much fun learning it. She had mastered three new ways to cast on and she now understood the importance of knitting a gauge swatch, to make certain a project actually fit. Come to think of it, she had heard Grace complaining about fit. Now she could understand them and even carry on a conversation about knitting, Jilly thought smugly.

  But best of all was the camaraderie she had found with the other knitters in her class. Even the teacher was friendly and approachable. Jilly liked the way people encouraged each other in their projects, offering suggestions without making a big fuss about it.

  As Jilly carried her tote bag back to her cabin, she wondered if rain was predicted. That thought brought her around to Walker and what she was going to wear.

  And whether she was going to go at all.


  Twice she had started to call him with some excuse to cancel their dinner. Each time she had stopped herself. Backing out would have been unbelievably wimpy as well as rude. Jilly had never considered herself either of those things.

  So the date—if it really was a date—was still on.

  She stopped outside her door and rubbed her chest. She was not going to get flustered about this whole thing. She would never understand makeup and perfume and jewelry. She was lucky if her socks matched. On a rare occasion when she had a formal event to attend, she relied on fashion advice from Olivia and Grace, who always looked beautifully put together.

  Besides, it wasn’t really a date. It was just dinner. Food. Talk. Laughter.

  Then home. Her hormones were not going to take control. Nothing…major was going to happen tonight.

  But Walker had been right about one thing.

  Jilly was crazy curious about what he was going to cook for her.

  * * *

  THE MOUNTAINS WERE PURPLE in the gathering twilight when Jilly heard a knock at her door. She took a deep breath and stood up quickly.

  Too quickly. She grabbed the back of her chair and waited, unsteady in a slight wave of dizziness.

  Probably because she hadn’t eaten any lunch. And she hadn’t been drinking enough water, Jilly thought. She swept up a bottle from the table and took a long drink, relieved when the dizziness passed.

  There was another knock.

  When she swung open the door, Winslow shot over the threshold, bounded through the room and then raced back to Walker’s side.

  Jilly laughed when she saw a bright blue bandanna tied around the dog’s neck. “Well, someone is all dressed up.” Jilly reached down to ruffle Winslow’s fur. “How are you doing, gorgeous?”

  The dog barked twice and spun in a happy circle.

  Jilly looked up at Walker in the doorway. There it was again, a wave of heat that snaked straight up her spine. This was decidedly new territory. Jilly felt too open, her skin too sensitive.

  Walker, on the other hand, looked totally at ease. Faded blue jeans met a plain white shirt. He wore a blue wool sweater and a simple belt with just a hint of silver at the buckle. He looked rugged, all man. Delicious enough to eat.