Sugar Pine Trail

How would she possibly make it through the next six weeks?

CHAPTER THREE (#u87ed92cc-3926-5cf6-af7f-a8b2ba8b44a8)

HE HAD A VISITOR.

At the third plaintive yowl in as many minutes from the landing outside his new apartment, Jamie set down his book and headed to the door. When he opened it, he found one of Julia Winston’s cats, the same lithe black beauty he had held earlier. She bounded inside to rub against his leg and instantly began to purr.

He chuckled and picked her up, holding her out so he could gaze into her green eyes.

“Hi there. I don’t think you’re supposed to be up here, but maybe you didn’t get the memo.”

She meowed in answer, giving him an unblinking stare.

“Are you looking for something? Did you leave your favorite toy up here?” he asked, stroking her silky fur.

She purred and rubbed her head against his hand, making him smile.

It had been a long time since he’d had much to do with cats. His mother had always loved them, but the succession of big, boisterous dogs he and his brothers and Charlotte were constantly taking home to Winterberry Lane in Hope’s Crossing didn’t always make for the most comfortable environment for its feline occupants.

His poor mother had put up with so much from her brood. As always, he felt a pang when he remembered Margaret Caine, gone too young from cancer.

He petted the cat a few more moments, finding an odd sort of peace in it. He would like to have taken her in, charmed more than he might have expected by the idea of sitting by the gas fireplace in his apartment on a cold night, with a good book and a cat on his lap. He couldn’t just commandeer a cat. His landlady would probably be looking for her.

“You’d better go home,” he said, trying to set the cat down. She yowled in protest and wriggled to stay in his arms.

“Fine. I’ll take you down myself,” he said.

Jamie didn’t bother with shoes as he headed down the steps to the entryway. He was about five or six steps from the bottom when the doorknob to the outside door turned and a moment later, Julia walked inside.

Her hair looked a bit messy, as if tangled by a stiff wind, and she wobbled a little as she pushed the door open. She was humming a song, and it took him a few bars before he recognized the tune. “Blue Christmas.”

She didn’t appear to notice him as she came inside, still humming and looking a little unsteady.

Jamie decided he had to announce himself, since she still didn’t appear to notice him even when he walked the rest of the way down the steps.

“I think I have something of yours.”

She shrieked and jumped a foot into the air, then whirled around with her hands in front of her in a classic martial arts defensive pose.

Whoa. Ninja librarian.

He knew the instant she recognized him. Color soaked her cheeks, and she dropped her hands.

“Oh! You scared the daylights out of me!”

“Sorry about that. I should have announced myself somehow.”

“It’s not your fault. I... I guess I must have been...thinking about something else.”

The words something else came out slightly slurred and as he approached her, he noticed her cheeks seemed a little bit more flushed than he could attribute to a normal blush and her violet eyes looked a little dazed.

Unless he was very much mistaken, his prim, uptight landlady was slightly tipsy, maybe from the gathering that had just broken up down here within the last half hour or so.

He had to admit, he found this soft, flustered version of Julia Winston rather appealing.

“I had a visitor upstairs, and I thought you might be looking for her.”

He held out the cat, who still seemed reluctant to leave his arms.

“Oh. Audrey Hepburn. You rascal.”

He couldn’t hold back his smile. “Your cat’s name is Audrey Hepburn?”

“Not my cat,” she corrected. “My mother’s cat. They’re all my mother’s cats. Yes, her name is Audrey Hepburn. My mother was a big fan of Roman Holiday.”

“Charade is my favorite of her work.”

“Same here!” Her eyes were wide with disbelief, as if she couldn’t fathom the idea that they might share a favorite movie.

It surprised him a little, too. He might have figured her for someone who preferred dry literary movies or the kind of foreign films he couldn’t understand without subtitles. Then again, she was tipsy in her hallway after a wild gathering with friends on a weeknight. Maybe he wasn’t as good a judge of character as he thought.

“Sounds like you were having quite a party earlier.”

“Oh. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about my book club. I hope we didn’t bother you.”

“It sounded a little raucous for a book club.” He didn’t mention the fact that she seemed a little buzzed.

“We’re not usually this crazy,” she confided. “Roxy Nash brought this really great autumn sangria. It had apples and cinnamon and pears and was so good. We all got a little carried away. I think we might have underestimated slightly the alcohol content. I promise. I don’t have wild book club parties very often.”

“Too bad. Make sure you invite me to the next one. I’d love to see Hazel and Eppie get smashed.”

Much to his shock, her gaze seemed fixed on his smile.

Or his mouth, anyway.

Now what would a prim and proper woman like Julia Winston find so fascinating about his mouth? Did he have something stuck in his teeth?

He gave her a closer look and his interest sharpened. Her lips parted and then she swallowed hard. If he didn’t know better, he would swear that was a little hint of attraction he saw in her eyes.

Who would have guessed?

“You know Hazel and Eppie?” she asked after a long moment.

“Oh, yes. They’re two of my favorite people in Haven Point.”

“Mine, too,” she said, in that same surprised tone. He had the feeling she wasn’t all that thrilled at finding more points of commonality between them.

He decided to quit while he was ahead.