with Grandma for the loan. We’re good.”
“You’re giving me carte blanche without an estimate? That’s not good business.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.” She faced him square. “I’m cutting a deal with a skilled craftsman who is known throughout the town as fair, conscientious and amazing.”
His eyes sparked at the word amazing and if she was interested at all, she’d have thought she noted a glimmer of something not exactly business-related in his expression.
If you were interested? Are you kidding me? Did you not see that look, that flash of light in his eyes? Come on, girl, get back in the game.
“Cameron.”
A cross-sounding voice interrupted their conversation. Rachel stepped closer to her father, and Meredith wished she could mimic the little girl’s wrinkle of displeasure, but grown-ups were required to maintain a game face in public. Right now Meredith considered it a really stupid rule.
“Mrs. Dennehy. How are you?” Cam kept his tone easy while Meredith considered ways to put the meddlesome old woman in her place. Claire Dennehy had sharpened her tongue at the Brennan family’s expense for a long time. Of course, Meredith’s father had given the town plenty of reason to gossip. Gambling, drug addiction, womanizing and illegitimate children made for great backyard fodder, but Claire and Cam’s mother had gone above and beyond in their condemnations, which meant Meredith’s teenage relationship with Cam put both women in a tongue-wagging tizzy.
The fact that they ran into each other here, in John Dennehy’s old-fashioned mercantile, gave Claire a new opportunity to scold, but if Meredith was going to make it in this town, she needed to toughen up. And Rachel didn’t need to hear the old woman’s caustic drivel. “Rachel, would you like to look at some wallpaper samples with me?”
“Wallpaper?” Rachel wrinkled her nose, puzzled.
Cam snorted.
Meredith ignored his noise and headed toward the door. “If it’s all right with you, we’ll head a little west on Main Street and see what Mr. Schiffler’s got in Victorian prints.”
Cam sent her a grateful look that said he recognized her ploy to move Rachel out of earshot, but the arched brow said they’d be discussing the wallpaper idea.
His amused look of challenge made her look forward to the discussion, a fact she’d examine later. Right now her big goal was removing seven-year-old hearing from the reach of a cranky old woman.
* * *
“I went to see your mother last night.” Claire threw down the comment like a dueling glove, then waited for Cam to retrieve it.
He refused the challenge and kept his peace. “I appreciate that. She gets lonely.”
“She’d be less lonely if certain people spent more time with her.”
“Or if she went places,” Cam returned mildly. “Did you happen to take her any black licorice?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll get some now.” His mother loved black licorice. And black jelly beans. Anise cookies. She enjoyed the biting flavor of the spiced treats.
“She didn’t look good.”
Cam pointed to the display case. “I’ll take a pound of the black jelly beans and the same of the black licorice whips.”
“Her color’s bad.”
His mother’s color would improve if she got outside more often and exercised her cheeks by smiling now and again. Neither option was likely.
“And she had a coughing spell something fierce when I was there. That will be nine-thirty-nine.”
Cam handed her a ten-dollar bill, smiled his thanks, and accepted the small bag and the change she handed him. “Have a nice day, now.”
He felt her stewing as he walked out the door, miffed because he refused to jump into a discussion about his mother. Their relationship, as strange as it was, was their business.
Not Claire’s.
He shoved his shoulders back consciously, as if listening to Claire’s negativity bowed him down. It didn’t, but it could, and Cam refused to let that happen. Thank heavens Meredith had been there to sweep Rachel out the door. Rachel was too quick for her own good, and listening to ill-tempered diatribes wasn’t in her best interest. Especially when she was adept at repeating things at the worst possible moments.
He paused, scraped a hand to his jeans, and eyed Schiffler’s door.
He’d just thanked God for Meredith Brennan. What in the world was he thinking?
Obviously an anomaly he wasn’t about to repeat. He entered the store just in time to hear Rachel exclaim, “I love this one, Meredith!”
Excitement highlighted Rachel’s delight as twin grins looked his way, a glimpse of shared femininity. Warmth flowed through him, seeing Rachel perched on a tall stool alongside Meredith. The little girl’s fair curls matched the soft highlights in Meredith’s hair, and for one brief flash of time they looked like they belonged together.
Except they didn’t.
Rachel waved him over. “Dad, you have got to see this.”
“Whaddya got, kid?”
“Look.”
He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t the fussy border done in shades of pink and white. The wide strip showcased delicate teacups, doilies and china teapots in mixed floral designs. Gold-rimmed plates lined the back of the paper shelf and a vase of pink roses enhanced the effect of the floral-trimmed china. The whole thing was Victorian-friendly, ultrafeminine and way too pink. “Whoa. Girly. Where are the soccer balls? Baseball gloves. You don’t really like this, do you?”
Meredith’s gaze cooled like hot maple syrup on fresh snow, but Cam kept his eyes on Rachel. She made a pretty fair imitation of his frown and shook her head. “Way too prissy. Please.”
“Well, I like it,” Meredith announced. “It would be beautiful in a girl’s room over a pink-sprigged floral print with white upper walls.”
Cam pretended to gag. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Not in the least.” She sent Rachel a soft smile. “There’s nothing wrong with being a tomboy who enjoys pretty things.”
Meredith’s words reinspired Rachel’s sparkle. Cam thought of her bedroom at home. He’d painted it ivory when they moved into the old place a couple of years ago. Work and parenting had kept him from making the changes he’d envisioned when he bought the small farm, but the girls didn’t seem to care. Life kept them plenty busy. Who had time to notice things like room color? Wallpaper? Please.
Rachel’s profile said otherwise, reason enough right there to limit her time with Meredith. He’d worked hard to raise the girls to be strong and independent. Assertive and athletic. All too soon maturing hormones would thrust them into a new world of girliness, but Cam refused to rush that process. His motto: All A’s, No B’s. Athletics and academics, no boys allowed. At least until the girls were thirty or so. Then they’d talk.
“Gotta go get your sister, kid.”
“Okay.” Rachel nodded and smiled, but Cam noticed the smile didn’t reach her eyes, eyes that drifted back to the feminine border.
He ignored the longing look and faced Meredith. “This afternoon good for you? Around two?”
“Fine.” She didn’t smile at him, but squatted low to share a smile with his daughter. “Thanks for the advice. I like the way you see colors.”
Rachel’s warm expression said the words meant more than just a casual compliment. “Thank you. I liked working with you.”
“Then