The Second Time by Janet Dailey Page B

walk.
    Enough of the yard had been cleared to enable her to have only a partially obscured view of the street. A flash of black caught her eye, attracted by the sound of a passing car. Only it wasn’t passing. Dawn recognized the black Corvette as it swung into the driveway, just managing to stop short of the brush pile.
    Even though Dawn was too tired to care about her appearance, she was conscious of it. Her face was streaked with dust and pollen. Stickers and broken twigs were hooked onto her clothes. In this old shirt of her father’s, she knew she looked shapeless. Even the crowning glory of her hair was hidden under the dirty scarf. For some strange reason, it was her chipped nails and blistered palms that bothered her the most. There wasn’t time to slip her glove back on, and it would have been too painful anyway, so she simply let her hand hang by her side, hoping he wouldn’t notice it.
    His brows were drawn together in a frown ashis gaze swept the yard, his long, free-swinging strides carrying him to where she was standing. “Where are your workmen? Have they broken for lunch already?”
    “We are the workmen,” she said, including Randy with a gesture of her gloved hand as he joined them.
    “You aren’t planning to clean up this yard by yourselves?” He looked at her as if she’d lost her senses.
    Dawn was hot and tired enough to wonder if she had. “We’re both young and able-bodied. All it takes is a little muscle.”
    “A weak mind and a strong back, that’s what it takes,” Slater corrected with a trace of exasperation.
    “A little physical labor doesn’t hurt anybody,” she insisted, and smiled briefly at her son. “Besides, this is going to be our new home. We have to put some effort into making it that.” She felt it would be a good lesson for Randy; instill in him a sense of ownership because he had helped with it.
    “Here’s your bandage, Mom.” He offered it to her.
    “Physical labor doesn’t hurt anybody, huh?” Slater mocked and took the bandage from Randy. His seeking glance noticed the gloveless hand at her side. “A blister?” he guessed.
    “Yes. It’s just a little sore.” She wouldn’t admit that it was throbbing painfully since it had been exposed to the air.
    Turning her hand palm-upward, she showed him the fiery red sore. His gaze flicked sharply to her face. “You crazy little fool,” he muttered angrily under his breath. “You’ll be lucky if you don’t get infection in it.”
    “It isn’t that bad.” But Dawn winced as his finger probed around the edges of it, his touch basically gentle although it imparted pain. He firmly held her hand so she couldn’t pull it away from him.
    “Do you have any antiseptic with you?” he asked.
    “In the first aid kit,” she nodded.
    “Go get it for me, Randy,” he ordered. “Before we put a bandage on it, it needs to be cleansed and treated.”
    As Randy trotted off again, Dawn didn’t want to pursue the subject of her blister, certain it would only invite a lecture from Slater. And if she chose to clean the yard herself instead of having it done, it was entirely her own business. But she wasn’t in the mood to argue with him over that point.
    “Why did you stop by?” she asked. “Do you have the final papers ready for the house?”
    “No, they should be finished tomorrow,” he said, then explained, “I had the afternoon free so I stopped by your parents’ house to see if Randy wanted to go out on the boat with me. I promised to take him snorkeling some time.”
    “He’d like that.” As sticky and overheated as she felt, the invitation sounded heavenly.
    “Do you mean he doesn’t have to work in the yard this afternoon?” There was a devilish twinkle in his gray eyes that laughingly mocked her.
    “Regardless of what you think, I’m not so foolish as to work outside in the heat of the afternoon,” Dawn retorted.
    “Why don’t you come with us?” Slater invited unexpectedly.
    “No.” Her