She couldn’t help chuckling. “You like pigtails, do you?”
“What I like, Anne,” Jake said quietly, “is your laughter.”
Chapter 6
Dinner was over, and Anne sighed with satisfaction as she picked up their plates from the small table. Jake had just gone outside. Something to do with starting their hot-water heater. Anne had seen the myriad dials and compartments on the side of the motor home, but she was more interested in playing housewife in the dollhouse on wheels, for the moment.
The dishes were few. Jake had grilled steaks outside, and Anne had complemented them with baked potatoes dripping with melted cheese and bacon bits, and a salad of fresh greens. She usually found cleaning up a nuisance, but it wasn’t so bad with only two plates and a few pieces of silverware in the tiny powder-blue porcelain sink. After adding soap and water, she reached to pick up the two empty wineglasses, and noticed a pair of keys next to Jake’s plate.
Pushing open the door, she called out, “There’s already plenty of hot water. You don’t have to worry.”
“I wasn’t sure. The pilot light’s kind of fussy.” He was bending over the dials, looking as blissful as a teenage boy with a hot rod.
Anne chuckled, and then remembered. “What are the keys on the table for?”
“I thought we could both use a chance to spruce up after a long day of traveling. One key’s for the shower room for you. The other’s for the hot tub for me,” he said absently.
“Sounds good,” she agreed, and went back to her chores. She swiped at the table with a damp sponge, washed the two crystal goblets in steaming water, and frowned. A moment later she pushed open the door again. “What hot tub?” she called out.
It had turned dark since they’d sat down to dinner. Jake emerged from behind the motor home, his wolfish features accented by the yellow light of the outdoor lamp. He wiped one hand on the hip of his jeans, motioning vaguely to her with a screwdriver in the other hand. “You’ll be happier with the shower, Anne. Take my word for it.”
He disappeared into the shadows; she returned inside. Two china plates, two sets of silver, two salad plates… She unplugged the drain and watched the water swirl in rapid circles on its way down. Weariness flooded through her. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, just the kind of fatigue that came from traveling. Or perhaps that was how she excused a sudden unsettled feeling. The circle of light around the tiny kitchen area felt like an oasis. To her left was the double bed where Jake would sleep; to her right was the upper berth where she was sleeping-of course. Jake had made that clear. Twice. Her eyes flicked again to the keys on the kitchen table.
The motor-home door clattered open behind her; she all but jumped. “Actually, I would prefer the hot tub,” she remarked promptly, as if they were in the middle of a conversation.
Jake didn’t have any problem following her. “No, you wouldn’t.” He motioned toward the window in front of her. “There is the hot tub, honey.” She peered out at the crazy-looking redwood structure she’d noticed before, the one that resembled a child’s fort. At the moment, it was hidden in dusky shadows, but she could still make out the ladder and the redwood siding. Suddenly, as she peered at it, she realized that it had no roof.
“Bathing under the stars isn’t at all your style, Anne. It’s not as if you’d brought a bathing suit. In the shower, you’ll have your privacy.”
“Privacy? You’ve got a key that locks the gate, haven’t you?”
He brushed past her, a hand just drifting along the small of her back as he moved by to put his toolbox away. “Forget it, Anne. The women’s shower is more private. The last time I was here, a family of six descended on the hot tub while I was soaking in it. They had a key, too. That didn’t bother me, but it would certainly bother you.”
She could still feel the imprint of his splayed palm on her back. “Only two other motor homes have come in since we’ve been here. They’re both retired couples, and both already have their lights out, for heaven’s sake.” He was facing away from her, almost as if he wasn’t listening, and was opening drawers to get fresh clothes. “I’ll get the towels,” she said swiftly.
He stood up straight, so she could get past him. All very considerate. And offering her the shower, under the circumstances, was very considerate, too. Anne valued her privacy… There was no reason at all for her to feel miffed. Jake wasn’t the type to get upset if other people saw him naked; she very definitely wasn’t into community baths.
Fine. Only there wasn’t any “community” to worry about. Except for the “community” of the two of them. And in total darkness, with Jake, she was hardly worried about anyone else anyway. Bathing under the stars isn’t at all your style, Anne… She piled two thick terry-cloth towels in her arms, added her soft navy velour robe, and felt as if there were five tons of irritation in her bloodstream. No one liked to be pegged.
When she moved past him again, Jake moved forward to get out of her way. The motor home had ample space except when two adults were trying to negotiate the walkway at the same time. It took some effort to avoid touching each other-and Jake was certainly making the effort. Anne added a hairbrush to her pile of bath supplies. “Unless you have some objection, I’d prefer the tub over the shower,” she said stiffly.
“Why would I have any objection?” He paused. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.”
They both stepped outside into the darkness. A little wispy mist was starting to rise from the creek, illuminated by occasional yellow yard lights strung haphazardly through the camp’s park. The charcoal dusk seemed to mute all sounds. It was nearing ten. The two other mobile homes in the distance were dark; they might as well not have existed.
Jake raised his arm and just looked at her. Anne walked into the hollow of his shoulder with a small smile and they started along the shadowed path. Jake’s arm offered a simple promise of reassurance, as if her body had just plugged in to a powerful source of warmth. She had a sudden whim to be kissed in Iowa.
Their eyes met, and Jake’s lips suddenly curled in an almost imperceptible smile. Anne’s lashes lowered at the speed of light. “You can’t use the motor home for daily travel around Idaho, can you?” she said.
“I drive a Jeep, which I keep there. And the motor home isn’t the only place I lay my head, Anne, but I’d prefer to save a few surprises-most of the surprises-until we get there.”
“You haven’t really told me much about what you do in Idaho. Just knowing you’re involved in silver mines doesn’t tell me much.”
“Anything to do with silver doesn’t make any sense until you see it. As you will, Anne.” He shifted the clothes under his free arm. “In the meantime, somehow I didn’t expect you to spend your days staring at cornfields.”
“No?” she asked wryly. “What else did you want me to look at?”
“Finances. Mine. The ones you told your boss you would handle.”
His voice was light, but Anne’s mood changed abruptly. “Then he’ll have to fire me. Jake, that’s between you and you, your money. Don’t play games.”
“I’m not playing games. I want a trust. You’re a trust officer.”
She pushed a branch out of their way as they neared the redwood structure. Was he teasing? Unfortunately, she’d always found it very difficult to view finances in a humorous light. “If I were to handle your business-which I will not do-the last thing I would set up for you is a trust. A trust is set up primarily to protect heirs, so-”