Every Waking Moment Read online

  “Sorry to disappoint you. Tell Annie I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

  “Don’t worry, she’s busy repapering Janice’s dollhouse. If you change your mind, I’ll be happy to keep her.”

  “I won’t change my mind,” Gail said firmly. She hung up and found Polly watching her.

  Her face looked quite serious as she said, “I know it’s none of my business, Kate, but I think it would do you good to have a night out. You deserve to enjoy yourself a bit more. You haven’t had a night out without Annie since you got here. Too much togetherness is not necessarily a good thing, you know.”

  “You’re right.” Gail pulled her coat from the hook and thrust her arm in a sleeve. “So how about you and I driving into Parkerville for dinner and a movie one night?”

  “Fifty miles there and back for a movie?”

  “And dinner.”

  Polly grinned. “You’re on. But I still think you should go tonight.”

  Gail picked up the book and waved it at her. “Good night, Polly. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  The headlights of her car reflected on the snow piled high at the sides of the road as she drove toward the hotel. Above the silent trees a carpet of stars shimmered, and she could see a glistening of frost on the pavement ahead of her.

  She drove carefully, watching for the Alpine Inn, which lay around the next curve. Her stomach muscles tensed as she rounded the bend and saw the lights twinkling through the branches of the firs. In spite of her frantic rehearsals all afternoon, she couldn’t think of a single phrase to say to Blake that wouldn’t sound trite.

  Hi, I gave you our receipt book by mistake this afternoon. Can I have it back, please? He was going to think she’d done it on purpose. She wondered if he’d discovered the mistake and was hoping she would bring him his book and stay for dinner. If so, he was in for a big disappointment.

  Carefully, she applied the brakes and turned into the parking lot. There were no more than a half-dozen cars parked outside the main doors. By tomorrow night the hotel would be filled with ski enthusiasts but on weekdays, for the most part, the parking lot was practically deserted.

  Walking into the warmth of the hotel lobby, Gail unbuttoned her coat. Flames leaped from the crackling logs in the fireplace, and beneath the knotty-pine staircase an enormous vending machine looked out of place in its rustic setting.

  A wizened little man sat behind the counter, and he gave her a toothless grin as she approached. “What brings you out to the Alpine on a cold night?”

  “Hi, Sam. I’m here on business.” She held up the package in her hand. “One of your guests left a book at the store. I’m just dropping it off for him.”

  Sam narrowed his eyes. “Which one might that be, then?”

  “Blake Foster.”

  Sam nodded. “Oh, him. Quiet, that one. Don’t like to talk none.”

  Refusing to be drawn into a discussion about Blake, Gail smiled. “Is he in?”

  “Was, last I know. Wait a minute, I’ll call the room.”

  Gail’s heart began to slowly pound as Sam lifted the receiver and punched out a number. After a moment he spoke into the phone. “Mr. Foster? Got a visitor down here for you.”

  Blake must have asked who it was, as Sam looked at Gail and winked. “It’s the pretty lady from The Book Nook. She says she has a book for you.”

  “Ask him—” Gail began, but Sam had already replaced the receiver.

  He jerked his head in the direction of the stairs. “He says to go on up. Room 25, end of the hallway.”

  Thoroughly flustered, Gail began to stammer. “I...I thought he’d come down here to get it. I mean...Perhaps I should...”

  Sam frowned. “Something wrong? He’s not bothering you, is he?”

  “Oh, no,” Gail said hastily. “It’s just that I...” She lifted her shoulders in a helpless gesture. “Room 25?”

  “Room 25,” Sam echoed solemnly.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re entirely welcome.”

  Conscious of Sam’s eyes on her, she slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor.

  Polly had told her that the Alpine Inn had been built long before the modern motels came into being. Although an elevator had been added in later years, it was hidden at the rear of the building. The ski crowd preferred the primitive charm of the magnificent staircase.

  Gail was beginning to wish she’d used the elevator by the time she reached the top of the stairs. She seemed to have lost all the strength from her legs.

  Reaching the door numbered twenty-five, she paused in front of it, willing her heart to quit thumping against her ribs. Blake was just a man, she told herself fiercely. And she was a grown woman, well able to deal with anything he might throw at her. Defiantly, she raised her hand and knocked on the door.

  It opened almost at once. She was unprepared for the little rush of pleasure she felt at the sight of him. He wore dark gray slacks with a black-and-gray sweater, and looked as if he’d just come off the slopes.

  “I gave you the wrong book this afternoon,” she blurted out, before he could say anything. “I believe you have our receipt book by mistake.”

  His expression didn’t change, except for an almost-imperceptible twitch of his eyebrow. “You disappoint me,” he said, opening the door wider. “I was hoping you’d changed your mind about dinner.”

  She shook her head. “Sorry. My daughter is waiting for me.”

  “Downstairs?”

  “At the baby-sitter’s.”

  “Ah, then surely you can have a drink with me. It’s the least I can do after you came all this way to give me my book.”

  “And to pick up the receipt book,” she reminded him. It seemed important to make sure that was clear.

  “And to pick up the receipt book.” The slight inflection in his voice suggested he was amused. “I’ll get it.”

  She waited awkwardly by the door until he reappeared, the receipt book in his hand.

  “I suppose there’s no point in asking you to come in,” he said, as he handed it to her.

  She did her best to sound indifferent. “Thanks, but I have to pick up Annie.”

  “Ah, yes...Annie. Surely she wouldn’t mind if you were a few minutes late? I’d like to buy you that drink.”

  “I really shouldn’t....” Her voice trailed off as he gave her a wistful smile.

  “I hate drinking alone. I promise I won’t keep you long. You can call your baby-sitter from here, if you like, and let her know you’ll be detained for a few minutes.”

  She’d already done that, but she wasn’t about to admit it to him. “Well...”

  “It would mean a very great deal to a lonely stranger in a strange town who doesn’t know a soul and who’s bored with TV and is dying for some intelligent conversation.” He pressed his hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture of despair.

  He looked so comically pitiful she had to laugh. “I had no idea it was that bad.”

  His smile reminded her why she was wary of him. He was just a little too charming. He unsettled her, made her feel hopelessly gauche—something she’d never felt before. She didn’t like losing her composure this way.

  Still, she thought, it wouldn’t hurt to have a quick drink with him. Polly was right; it had been a very long time since she’d had any kind of social life. Blake Foster might disturb her self-assurance, but he was fun to talk to, and as long as she remained impervious to his unmistakable charisma, no harm could come of it.

  “I guess I could manage a few minutes,” she said, trying to ignore her little spasm of excitement.

  “Great. Do you want to call?”

  “No, I really don’t plan on being that long.”

  He didn’t give her any argument. Stepping into the hallway, he closed the door behind him. “Shall we go?”

  Walking side by side down the quiet corridor gave her an absurd sense of intimacy. Already she was beginning to regret her decision. She should have left right away. She would have be
en halfway to Darcie’s by now. She shouldn’t have—

  “I hope that scowl doesn’t mean you’ve changed your mind,” Blake said, startling her out of her thoughts.

  Flustered, she shook her head. Luckily the elevator doors opened just then, giving her an excuse not to answer him.

  “Have you done much sight-seeing yet?” she asked, when they were seated in the corner of the dimly lit bar. It seemed safer to ask the questions; then he couldn’t ask any of his own.

  “Not yet.” Blake smiled at the waitress who hovered at his elbow. “I’ll have a light beer.” He glanced across at Gail.

  “Just a soda,” she said. “I’m driving.”

  The waitress disappeared, and Gail looked back at Blake. He was watching her, with an odd expression on his face that vanished a second after she’d registered it.

  “So tell me about the local attractions,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “So far, all I’ve found of interest in the guidebook is hiking trails, or fishing in the lakes, neither of which appeals to me much in this weather.”

  She hesitated, wondering why he had come to this tiny backwoods town if he was looking for excitement. “There isn’t much more. Most people who come here like to ski or climb mountains. Or simply commune with nature, I guess. A lot of people like to get away from their hectic lives and just do nothing but sit around and contemplate their navel.”

  He laughed at that, and the sound of it washed over her, relaxing her tension. “That’s more or less what I had in mind, though I’d prefer to do it somewhere other than a hotel room. Are there any bus tours of the area? I’d like to get a closer look at the mountains.”

  “Not that I know of. You’d have to go into Parkerville for that kind of thing.”

  “That’s the nearest big town, right?”

  “Right. It’s about fifty miles east of here.” She told him what little she knew of the town and mentioned Fircrest Lodge again. He seemed genuinely interested in her job at the bookstore, and she gladly answered his questions. She enjoyed her work and didn’t often have a chance to talk about it.

  Glancing at her watch a while later, she was startled to see how quickly the time had passed. “I must be going,” she said, gathering up her purse. “I had no idea it was so late.”

  “Too late to go home and cook, right?” Blake smiled at her across the table. “Please let me buy you dinner. I feel guilty for keeping you so long, and I would really enjoy your company. I hate eating alone even more than I hate drinking alone.”

  She was enjoying herself, she had to admit. The more she was with him, the more relaxed she felt. He no longer seemed threatening. In fact, she couldn’t imagine why she had ever felt that way about him. The only danger lay in the fact that his masculine appeal was hard to resist, something she would have to guard against. She was reasonably sure that she could manage that.

  Looking up, she found him watching her with a hopeful expression on his face she found impossible to resist. “I’d like that,” she said finally, rising to her feet. “But I must call my baby-sitter and ask her to keep Annie overnight.”

  “Of course. Can I order you a drink?”

  She hesitated. Perhaps one wouldn’t hurt. “I’ll have a glass of Chardonnay with dinner,” she replied, then left the room to look for a phone.

  She found one in the lobby, and quickly dialed Darcie’s number. The sitter was only too happy to keep Heather. “I gave her a plate of spaghetti for supper,” she said, “so don’t worry. Go ahead and have a good time. Anyone I know?”

  “I told you, it’s business.”

  Gail winced when she heard Darcie’s soft laugh. “Yeah, sure. Have a good time anyway, okay?”

  Promising to call again when she got home, Gail hung up and went back to the bar. Blake was waiting for her, and together they walked into the dining room, where they were seated at a table by the window.

  Only one other table was occupied—by an elderly couple who paid no attention to the new arrivals. After ordering the salmon, Gail settled back in her chair to enjoy her wine.

  An old-fashioned oil lamp cast a soft glow across the cream tablecloth. The view from the window was obscured by the darkness, except for the lanterns hung in the lower branches of the pines.

  A log fire crackled in the corner replace, adding a cozy warmth to the room, the flames reflecting in the antique brass ornaments that hung on the walls.

  Gail could feel her tension slipping away as she took another sip of wine. Blake had ordered bourbon for himself and sat gazing into the glass as if deep in thought. Looking at the strong sweep of his jaw, Gail felt a tiny quiver of awareness. Blake Foster was a good-looking man.

  He glanced up, and to her embarrassment caught her staring at him. “This is nice,” he said, smiling at her.

  She nodded. “How did you hear about Mellow Springs? It’s not exactly on the tourist map. I should have thought you’d find mountains a lot closer to home than this.”

  For an instant she thought she saw a wary look in his eyes, but then he smiled. “A couple of friends of mine stayed here in the summer. They warned me it wasn’t a good time of year to come, but I was looking for some peace and quiet, and this little town sounded perfect.”

  “Do you often travel alone?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  The emphatic answer surprised her. She didn’t respond right away, and after a moment he added, “Have you always worked in a bookstore? Before you came here, I mean.”

  She could feel her nerves tightening again. “No, though I’ve worked in other stores. I really like working with books. I’ve always loved reading and I enjoy talking to the customers. I’m amazed at what I’ve learned in the few months I’ve been at The Book Nook.”

  To her relief the waitress arrived just then with their order. The conversation drifted to safer ground while they ate. Gail particularly enjoyed a lively discussion on the rising stars of country music, a topic on which she could hold her own.

  In fact, she was intrigued to discover that she had several things in common with Blake. They both liked classic movies and country music; they shared an indifference to Chinese food while both liked Mexican, and although Blake admitted he didn’t have time to do much reading, the few books he had read were among Gail’s favorites.

  Relaxing with a cup of coffee after the dishes had been cleared away, Gail had to admit she hadn’t enjoyed herself this much in years. The wine, together with Blake’s easygoing manner, had softened the edges of her uneasiness and she was sorry to see the evening come to an end.

  “I’ve really enjoyed this,” Blake said, echoing her thoughts. “We must do it again.”

  She gave him a vague smile, reluctant to commit herself, in spite of the good time she’d had. “How long will you be staying here?”

  He shrugged. “That depends.”

  He didn’t elaborate, although she had the distinct feeling that she would have a great deal to do with the length of his visit. The thought made her uncomfortable. She couldn’t afford to forget for one minute why she was in Mellow Springs. She felt guilty, aware that she was encouraging this nice man when she had no intention of doing so.

  “What made you pick Mellow Springs to start over?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts. “I’m surprised that someone with your vitality would want to bury herself in a backwoods town like this one.”

  The question had caught her off guard. For a moment she couldn’t remember what she’d already told him. She played with her teaspoon, trying to compose her thoughts. “I came from a small town,” she said at last. “I liked the feel of this one. I think you can have a certain sense of belonging in a small town that isn’t there in the city. In a town like Mellow Springs you get to know the people. In a city you can live for years in one place and never know your neighbors.”

  “It sounds as if you’ve lived in a city at some time in your life.”

  She could feel her tension returning. The questions were casual enough, but still they were q
uestions she didn’t want to answer.

  “For a while,” she said lightly. “What about you? Do you like living in the city?”

  “It has its moments. I like the convenience of having everything practically on the doorstep. When a man lives alone, as I do, ordering in meals becomes a necessity.”

  “I can imagine. Your job must keep you fairly busy, though.”

  “It can get pretty hectic at times. That’s why I wanted to get away to the great outdoors. I needed to unwind.”

  Gail laughed. “That, at least, you should be able to do in Mellow Springs.”

  “It must be lonely for you, though, especially with a small daughter. What do you do for amusement?”

  “Oh, Annie’s easy to please. Give her crayons or finger paints and she’ll be happy for hours. Sometimes I take her into Parkerville. They have a children’s museum there and that’s her favorite place in the whole world. She can play with all those neat gadgets and gizmos without me constantly warning her not to touch.”

  He smiled. “Sounds like a kids’ paradise.”

  “And mine. I don’t have to worry about her hurting anything.” She decided to ask the question that had been on her mind all evening. “Do you have kids?”

  He shook his head. “No. I was married once, but it didn’t last long. My biggest regret in life is missing out on being a father. I’d really like to meet Annie. I think we’d get along just great.”

  That was something she couldn’t allow to happen, Gail thought nervously. Heather could easily let slip her real name. Here in Mellow Springs, no one was ever likely to recognize the name. But Blake lived in Seattle. Frank had been a recognized businessman in Portland. The case had made headlines in the papers and on television—big enough that the story could easily have been carried by the Seattle media.

  Apart from the fact that she wanted to keep her whereabouts secret, she was uncomfortably aware of another reason she wanted to keep the truth from him. His approval of her was beginning to matter to her. And that could very well prove dangerous for them both.

  Chapter 3

  Aware that Blake was waiting for her response, Gail struggled to pull her thoughts together. It seemed safer just to ignore the subject of her daughter. She reached for her coffee, searching for a question to ask him. “How long have you lived in Seattle? I lived near Green Lake for a while when I was a kid. It’s grown considerably by now, I imagine.”