“Which one’s the sugar?” he asked casually.
“It’s right on the label.” She stopped her writing long enough to give him a peculiar look over her shoulder. “I’m sure you can figure it out for yourself.”
Sure he could He always did. He knew from experience there would be plenty of these situations, but it had been over five years since he’d had to scramble for excuses and responses. If he wasn’t careful, the truth wouldn’t remain a secret for long.
Carrying her coffee, he approached the canisters, eyeing them warily. The letters emblazoned across them mocked him. The land mine beneath his feet rumbled with every step. He was determined to get through this without letting the situation blow up in his face.
Get used to bluffing, Kane. You’ve got a hell of a lot of years ahead of you. Besides, deception has been a part of your life for so long it should be second nature. So why was Megan different? Why did she make him feel like a fumbling kid trying to stay two steps ahead of the game?
He opened the lid on the first canister and found white granules. Bingo. He rounded off a teaspoon and hesitated, remembering that she’d mentioned salt, too. Giving Megan a surreptitious glance to be certain she was otherwise occupied, he licked his pinky finger, brushed it over the granules and tasted it. And winced. Salt. Wouldn’t that have been an eye opener for Megan, in more ways than one?
The second canister held dark brown coffee grounds, and the contents of the third container looked like the same substance as was in the first. Not taking any chances, he sampled the sweet granules, then dumped a spoonful into Megan’s coffee.
Megan glanced at Kane as he placed the steaming mug in front of her. She took a sip, savoring the creamy taste. “Mm, it’s perfect. Thank you.”
He slid into the chair next to her. “Anytime.”
“I’ll be going grocery shopping tomorrow after Andy goes to school. Can you think of anything other than what’s on my list that you might want or need?” She pushed her list in front of him for his review. “It’s going to take me a few tries to figure out what you and Andrew like and dislike, but I’d appreciate your input.”
He picked up the tablet and looked at the list. After a few moments he handed it back without comment. “We like just about everything except lima beans and liver.”
“You’re easy to please. Any favorites?”
He grinned, looking like a young boy. “Twinkies and home-made spaghetti.”
“That’s quite a combination.” She added a few items to her list. “So, do you want to add anything to the list?”
“Nope. Buy whatever you need.” Withdrawing his wallet from his pants pocket, he counted off some twenty-dollar bills and tossed them her way. “Will that cover it?”
“Uh, sure,” she said, feeling funny about taking his cash so freely, despite them being husband and wife. “If not, I have some extra money on me.”
“I’ll pay for anything you might need.”
Kane’s pride was showing, she thought, understanding his insistence. Especially since she knew the money problems he’d had in his marriage to Cathy and his need to support his family. But couldn’t two contribute to the burden?
Wrapping her hands around her mug, she leaned back in her chair and took a sip of coffee. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
She shifted in her seat, suddenly feeling awkward and unsure. They hadn’t had a normal courtship, time to talk about the little matters involved in a marriage and how they’d settle them or the different compromises they’d make. In so many ways they knew so little about one another, but they needed to learn to communicate openly. And she’d always believed financial obligations should be a shared venture.
She asked her question before she lost the nerve. “How do you feel about opening a joint checking account?”
“Not interested.” His tone was firm and final.
“I’ll contribute my share of funds,” she automatically said, wanting him to know theirs was an equal partnership, the royalties she made on her books included in on the deal. “And you can still keep your own personal checking account if you’d like-”
“I don’t have a checking account, nor do I want one. My savings account is all I need.”
She gaped at him. A checking account was essential to everyday life. She couldn’t imagine not having one. “You’re serious?”
He stared at her steadily, silently answering her question.
“Then how do you pay for things?”
The corner of his mouth quirked, but the dark shadows clouding his gaze overrode the glimpse of dry humor. “Cash seems to work just fine.”
She shook her head incredulously. “You pay all your bills with cash?”
A muscle in his cheek twitched. “Yes. You have a problem with that?”
She frowned at his sharp, defensive tone. “It’s just that you’d save so much time if you just wrote a check and dropped the bill into the mail instead of running all over town settling up with everyone.”
Slowly, he stood, towering over her. He held her gaze with challenge and the simmering heat of anger. Very quietly, he said, “If you don’t like my method, then you pay the bills.”
Two days later Megan pulled into the parking lot of the town’s only bank, the Linden Trust and Loan, still pondering Kane’s angry reaction to her suggestion of a joint checking account. She had no intention of taking over his finances, and had told him as much. Her reassurance had been met with a scowl before Andrew had interrupted the heated moment.
Sighing heavily, she parked the car in an empty stall and turned off the ignition. Her husband’s erratic behavior bewildered and intrigued her. Tender and teasing one moment, cool and distant the next, all because of a stupid checking account.
It wasn’t as though she planned to spend his money frivolously, she thought, exiting the car and starting toward the red brick building. She was a saver by nature and thought a joint checking account might simplify their finances.
Yet he’d never had a checking account and only dealt with cash, which she thought as odd in today’s high-tech world of bank machines and credit-card checking. But when she’d questioned him on his uncommon practice, he’d been defensive and unwilling to compromise, acting as though her suggestion threatened his entire way of life. Not wanting to allow something that trivial to drive a wedge between them, she’d let it drop.
When they’d arrived home from church that afternoon, alone since Andrew was at the Lindens, he’d pulled her into his arms and had kissed her with a passionate urgency that melted the tension between them. He was a proud man, and she supposed that had been his way of silently apologizing, which she’d accepted with her own acquiescence.
He was good at that, she mused, making her forget everything but what he did to her. Although she admitted it was a pleasant way to make up, nothing was resolved afterward.
Shaking off her thoughts, she entered the bank. The financial institution was small, with three teller windows-two currently in use-a section for loans and new accounts and a sitting area for customers. The place was decorated in warm rust tones with greenery for accents.
She headed toward the pretty brunette sitting behind the new accounts desk. A gold name tag on her dress proclaimed her Debbie Davis, Accounts Manager.
The young woman smiled congenially. “Welcome to Linden Trust and Loan,” she recited. “How may I help your?”
Before Megan could respond, the phone on the desk buzzed and a female voice said, “Debbie, Ms. Peterson is on line one about her trust account.”