An Engagement in Seattle - Debbie Macomber [91]
Chase opened the door for the two, feeling very much like an idiot. He should never have agreed to the interview. They’d caught him off guard, before he realized what he was doing. If anything, this meeting was likely to generate additional calls and he already had more than he knew how to deal with.
Chase slumped onto the bed. He’d tried to be honest and fair. He wanted a wife. For thirty-three years he’d been content to live and work alone, waiting until he could offer a woman a decent life. He was finished with that.
The shortage of women in Alaska was well-known, especially in the far north. When Lesley had told him the details about those Seattle brides back in the 1860s, he felt a certain kinship with Asa Mercer and the desperate, lonely men who’d put up the money for such a venture.
Lesley had told him Mercer hadn’t had much difficulty convincing women to move west. That had surprised him, but not as much as the response his own ad had generated.
Lesley.
He’d meant to tell her about the billboard that first afternoon. But then she’d mentioned it herself and implied that anyone who’d advertise for a wife was crazy and pathetic. He’d been afraid she’d never agree to their dinner if she’d known he was that man.
He reached for the phone, intending to call her right then to explain. He fumbled for her phone number inside his wallet and unfolded it, placing it on the nightstand. After punching the first four numbers in quick succession, he changed his mind and hung up. This sort of thing was best said face-to-face. He only hoped she’d be more inclined to think well of him now that she knew him better.
He’d wait until a decent hour and contact her, he decided. His one hope was that she wouldn’t watch the noon news.
Lesley woke happy. At least she thought this feeling was happiness. All she knew was that she’d slept through the entire night and when morning came, the dark cloud of despair that had hung over her the past few months had lifted. Her heart felt lighter, her head clearer, her spirit whole.
She wasn’t falling in love with Chase. Not by a long shot. But he’d helped her look past the pain she’d been walking under; he’d eased her toward the sun’s warmth. With Chase she’d laughed again and for that alone she’d always be grateful.
She showered and twisted her hair into a French braid, then brewed a pot of coffee. While reading the paper, she decided to bake chocolate-chip cookies. Eric and Kevin, Daisy’s two boys, would be thrilled.
Chase might enjoy them, too.
She smiled as she held the coffee cup in front of her lips, her elbows braced on the kitchen table. No point in kidding herself. She was baking those cookies for him. Later she’d suggest an outing to Paradise on Mount Rainier.
True, Eric and Kevin would appreciate their share, but it was Chase she was hoping to impress. Chase she was looking forward to hearing from again. Chase who dominated her thoughts all morning.
The cookies were cooling on the counter when Daisy let herself in.
“Say, what’s going on here?” she asked, helping herself to a cookie.
“I don’t know. I felt the urge to bake this morning.”
Daisy pulled out a chair. “It’s the nesting instinct. Mark my words, sweetie, those ol’ hormones are kicking in.”
Lesley paused, her hand holding a spatula that held a cookie. “I beg your pardon?”
“You’re how old now? Twenty-five, twenty-six?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“A lot of your friends are engaged or married. You’ve probably got girlfriends with kids.”
“Yes,” Lesley admitted, agreeably enough, “but that doesn’t mean anything.”
“Who are you trying to fool? Not me! As far as I’m concerned, marriage and a family were the big attraction with Tony. He was never your type and we both know it. What you were looking forward to was settling down, getting pregnant and doing the mother thing.”
“We agreed not to discuss Tony, remember?” Lesley reminded her neighbor stiffly. Her former fiancé was a subject she chose to avoid whenever possible with her friends,