A Place with Briar (Harlequin Superromance) (10 page)

Olivia snorted. “I’m sure she was distressed to hear it.”

“I’m afraid I’ve not yet told her,” Mrs. Josefstine confessed and lowered her voice. “She’s been out in her garden, working for hours. She hasn’t been as bright-eyed since that gentleman came to see her today.”

Cole stopped short, several feet from the front steps. Gentleman?

“What gentleman?” Olivia demanded, echoing his train of thought.

“A man in a suit came to see her. Tall. Mid-fifties, maybe. A bit stiff around the edges. Looked like a lawyer of some kind.”

“Oh, hell,” Olivia muttered. “Thanks, Mrs. Josefstine. I’ll pass on that you folks won’t be needing dinner and make sure she’s back to rights before y’all return.”

As the van drove off and Olivia beat feet toward the side of the house where they could already hear Briar’s WeedWacker at work, Cole fell into step with her. She stopped and gripped his hand. “You let me worry about this.”

“Who was he?” Cole asked, concern and indignation fusing under the surface of his skin. Someone had upset Briar and he had to know who. What he would do with that information, he was less sure....

“Most likely? My uncle Hud, whose sole purpose over the past year has been to drill his disapproval into Briar until she breaks. Now you go on inside. She’s either going to be weepy or spitting mad, and I know she’d kill me if I let you see her either way.”

He frowned. “If she’s upset, I should—”

“What?” she asked. When he remained silent, she patted his arm. “I love the quick initiative, Cole. And I would be happy to let you ride to my cousin’s rescue again. God knows she needs a bit more chivalry in her life. But situations like these are best left to family.”

He scanned her face. Even before he examined her set features and measured the grave light in her eyes, he knew she was capable of taking care of Briar. He nodded acquiescence. “I’ll be inside if she needs anything.”

“I’ll let her know,” Olivia assured him with a smile before she walked off in the direction of the garden, leaving him alone on the gravel drive.

* * *

K
UDZU
. I
T
was attacking her vegetables. Briar was all but buried in it, ambushing the vines that had managed to creep their way into her garden without her noticing.

Damned kudzu. She hacked at it, breathing hard through the heat of late afternoon, oblivious to Olivia’s approach.

Her cousin planted her hands on her hips as her shadow fell over Briar and her WeedWacker. “What did he say?”

“Who?” she bit off through clenched teeth. Her face was flushed with color and her heart was pounding hard and furious, but she kept wacking.

“Uncle Hud,” Olivia prompted.

Briar blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m a little busy, Liv.”

“What did he say to you?”

“What he’s
always
said,” Briar snarled, wrestling vines away from her precious squash. “That I’m not strong enough to hold this place up on my own, that the inn is a sinking ship, that he’s right and I’m wrong and I’ll come running to him when I lose everything.”

Olivia sighed. “Stand up.”

“I’d
really
like to be alone.”

Olivia didn’t back down. Instead, she hauled Briar up with a hand under her shoulder and shoved her back a foothold. “You let him get to you. Don’t bother,” she snapped when Briar opened her mouth to argue. “I told you not to let him get to you anymore. Every time he comes around he either leaves you in tears or a snit, and I’m tired of it. You’re going to call him right now and tell him not to bother you anymore.”

“I did.”

“What?”

Briar gazed into Olivia’s determined face. Somehow, her mouth twisted into what she feared was a grin as mad as she felt. “I told him.”

Olivia narrowed her eyes. “You told him to leave you alone? You told him not to come around here anymore?”

“I did.” A burbling laugh escaped her. She swiped a hand over her beaded forehead and shrank to the nearest garden bench, hands propped on her knees as she rocked forward and back, once, twice. “I told my own father he isn’t welcome in our family home.”

Olivia raised a brow. “How did it feel?”

“Good, in a way. And bad. He’s my father.”

“I know.” Olivia sat and slung an arm around Briar’s shoulders. “You did good. Real good.”

“I don’t feel too good,” Briar admitted, pressing a gloved hand to her head.

“I think you’re a little dehydrated.”

“No. I just feel like the part inside me that Mom took when she died, the hole she left, just keeps widening.”

“She’s not gone, Briar,” Olivia assured her. “She’s here. She’s always been here. She’s with you, and she’s proud of you. And if Uncle Hud can’t see that, he’s a damn fool.”

“You’re right,” Briar said with a small grin. “You’re always right. But I’m still living in her shadow. No matter what I do, I can’t measure up. I can’t fill the space she left.”

Olivia squeezed her shoulder. “I know what you need—a hot bath, a good glass of Chardonnay and a romance novel.”

Briar let out a laugh. “I wish.” She shook her head. “No, I’ve got too much to do. Look at my vegetables.”

“That kudzu isn’t going to take over completely in the next twenty-four hours.”

“But the Josefstines—”

“Went out to dinner. It’s just you and the hottie in the bay-view suite.”

Briar caught the mischievous gleam in Olivia’s eyes. She frowned. “He’ll want dinner.”

“Yeah,” Olivia chipped in. “And you’ll both want dessert.”

* * *

U
PSTAIRS
,
IN
THE
bay-view suite, Cole’s cell phone rang. Reluctantly, he walked to his bedside table. Though he already knew what name he would find on the caller ID screen. He reached for the phone and answered, “Yeah?”

“I haven’t heard from you in over twenty-four hours. This incommunicado bullshit is starting to get on my nerves, Cole.”

“I said I would contact you if I had any new information. I don’t.”

“Again, I’m starting to think you aren’t taking this seriously. I think it’s time for a reality check.”

Cole frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Gavin and I decided to take a little trip south this weekend.”

Cole’s grip on the phone tightened as his heart pounded. “Where are you?”

“A cute little beach house on Ono Island,” she told him, sounding downright gleeful.

Cole’s heart stopped. The world shifted and he reached out to plant a hand on the wall.

When he remained silent, Tiffany said, “He’s asking for his daddy.”

Cole sucked in a long breath as the teeth of pain gnawed at his frayed nerves. “You are the one who made certain I could never see my son again. And now you’re offering him up to me on a silver platter? I don’t buy it.”

“It’s called visitation. I’m his legal guardian. His sole guardian. If I see fit to let you back in his life then that’s my call. You’re a good daddy, Cole. I’ll give you one day to spend with him. To remember what it is that you could possibly lose here. Nothing like a little motivation to make you do what you’re told.”

The hand around the phone balled into a fist. It was a wonder the cell didn’t shatter into a million pieces. He tipped the phone away from his mouth to catch his breath. It was blackmail, again. And again he succumbed, willingly. Practically on bended knee. “Where?”

“Meet us tomorrow, ten o’clock at the public beach in Gulf Shores.”

“This better not be a trick, Tiff,” he ground out.

“Temper, temper,” she tutted. “We’ll be there. Trust me.”

“I don’t.” He ended the call and shrank to the edge of the bed. Again, he stared at the screen as it faded to black. Fighting to breathe, he reached to the bedside table for his billfold.

He kept only one picture in it. If Tiffany had known, she’d have taken that small token from him, too. He stared into the eyes that matched his own—those sober, dark eyes. The brown, straight cap of hair that grew like weeds and always fell in the kid’s eyes. The wide shoulders that promised more breadth than height.

Anyone could see the boy belonged to him. Anyone but his ex-wife.

The knock on the door startled him. He looked up as Briar opened it and peered in. He closed the billfold and dropped it on the pillow beside him, hiding it from view.

She wore a pink-and-blue-checkered apron and had changed from her gardening clothes to a sleeveless coral blouse and white slacks. “Hi,” she said with a small smile. “I just wanted to check on you.”

He only stared at her, unable to find words. How could he have ever thought he could have any part of her, even temporarily?

The smile melted when he didn’t reply. “I’m about to start dinner. We’ll eat in an hour.”

He looked down at his hands. “You know, Briar, I’m not all that hungry tonight.”

A slight pause followed the grim admission. “Are you sure? You didn’t eat breakfast again....”

“I’m sure. I think I’ll just turn in early. A full night’s rest will do me good.”

“Is the bed okay?” she asked, lacing her hands together in that uncertain way of hers. “If you’re not sleeping well on it, I could remove the mattress pad. It might be—”

He stood, crossing to her in a handful of strides. She trailed off, lips firming together at his quick movements. Standing close, he leaned over her and murmured, “The bed’s fine. It couldn’t be more comfortable. I just need some space.”

Hurt flashed in her eyes before she lowered them to his shoulder. “If...if this has anything to do with last night... Well, I’m sorry—”

“Damn it, Briar,” he said, scrubbing a frustrated hand through his hair. “Last night has nothing to do with this.”

She didn’t look altogether satisfied. “Well...if you need anything at all, Cole, please let me know how I can help.”

Did she know how undeserving he was of the understanding and the entreaty in her eyes? He swallowed hard. “I want you to take the night for yourself. Do whatever it is
you
do when the inn is taken care of.”

She began to protest, her lips parting. Then she sucked in a breath and closed them. She nodded. “All right, if you’re sure.”

“Thank you,” he murmured. Suddenly, he wanted to kiss her, so he took several steps back. “I won’t be here most of tomorrow. Don’t worry about feeding me.”

“When will you be back?”

“I don’t know.”

She hesitated then gripped the doorknob, backing out. “Rest well.”

He lowered back to the bed and dropped into the pillows, Gavin and Briar weighing on his mind.

Several minutes later, he glanced out the window at the sunset and saw his innkeeper strolling alone toward the boat dock, a glass of wine in one hand and a small bowl of salad in the other. She sank into one of two waiting Adirondack chairs, the last light of day falling in gilded, blinding pinpricks on the bay’s listless waters and casting the perfect woman in a lonely silhouette.

* * *

T
HE
WOODS
HAUNTED
him. The high wind rustled through the treetops of the pines that closed in around him and his partner as they approached the small cabin with its blown-out windows and blackened roof. The pine needles underfoot stirred, restless, a brown carpet that never rested.

Yellow police tape was tied from one tree to another. He ducked underneath it to enter the crime scene. The coroner was there as was the crime scene photographer. Other officers milled about in his periphery as he climbed the rickety steps to the open front door.

He knew the smell well. In the past ten years, he’d been no stranger to meth lab explosions. This one, however, he could see instantly was one of the worst. Holding his breath, he moved around, taking note as the homicide detective beside him rattled off the particulars.

The meth lab had been in the kitchen. The walls of the room had blown clean through. There the coroner had already tagged and bagged the three bodies of the dealers he and his partner had been investigating for some time now. Frowning, he felt the bite of defeat. If the warrant had come through a day earlier, they would be behind bars now. Not on their way to the morgue.

Moving away, he followed the blast radius. Walls were gone, exposing beams that had buckled and now stood crooked, making the shanty roofline unstable. They wouldn’t have long to comb through what was left and log their information away with photographs.

He moved from the small living room into what appeared to be a young child’s room.

He frowned. It was the closest to the kitchen. The small twin beds were blown askew. The window here was busted, too, its black-out curtain now lying somewhere in the forest. There were few things left that were recognizable. He knelt down and reached for the smudged face of a teddy bear that lay on the floor at his feet.

Before his fingertips could graze over the surface, he saw the body lying on the other side of the bed. It had already been discovered by the officer first on scene—he had known it would be there. But he hadn’t been prepared for this. The face was turned to him, eyes flat and dead. So young—just four or five.

He blinked several times when the face of the child blurred into a familiar one. The one of the child he’d kissed on the forehead that morning before leaving for the precinct. His gut churned and he fought for breath. No matter how many times he blinked or looked away, the face didn’t change. It was Gavin’s face. His boy, he was there with him in the wreckage. And he was gone.
...

The grief bound him, tied him in place and squeezed until he thought his ribs would shatter. Gripped by pain and terror, he fought the invisible force that bound him in his bones. He was losing it. He had to get out of there. Out of that house...out of those woods...away...far away...

“Cole?”

He tore through the remnants of sleep, sitting up in bed. Drenched in sweat, he hitched in a breath. Phantom pain lingered in his lungs and ribs. He exhaled in an unsteady rush, raising his hands to his face to scrub the memories from the underside of his lids.