Harmony Cabins (8 page)

He didn't bother to mask his impatience when he found Simon Knight waiting for him. “What can I do for you, Simon?”

Simon looked around, spreading his arms wide to encompass the entire room. “Very nice.”

“Thanks.”

“You see, Jack. That's the kind of man you are.” The other man leaned into the desk, bringing him closer to Jack. Too close.

Jack stared him down without responding.

Simon straightened. “You're the kind of man who picks himself up and keeps moving forward despite the roadblocks and inconveniences that get in his way.”

Jack shoved his fists into the front pockets of his black Dockers. “Which one was it?”

Simon looked confused. “Was what?”

“My daughter's death. Was it a ‘roadblock' or an ‘inconvenience'?”

The softly voiced question seemed to catch Simon off guard. “That isn't what I meant. Of course your daughter's death was a terrible tragedy.”

“Tell me what you want, then leave.”

Simon straightened his shoulders. “Trinity Falls is celebrating its sesquicentennial.”

“And?” Jack's patience was nearing its end.

“We're planning a Founders Day Celebration as part of the festivities.”

When Jack didn't respond, Simon continued. “As the sole surviving member of our town's founding family, you should be the keynote speaker for the Founders Day events.” Simon made the pronouncement as though he were presenting Jack with the keys to the town his family had settled.

“No.” Jack had taken two steps toward his office before Simon's shocked words stopped him.

“Wait. What?”

Jack faced him. “I told Doreen I won't make any speeches.”

Simon gaped. “You have to represent your family and the town during this celebration.”

Jack considered his unwanted visitor. What wasn't Simon telling him? “Why are you here?”

“To convince you to participate in the sesquicentennial celebrations. You owe it to the town.”

“If you think the event needs more speeches, make one yourself.”

“People expect a member of the founding family to be represented on Founders Day.”

Jack returned to the registration desk. “What is this really about?”

“What do you mean?” Simon's gaze slid away.

Jack's suspicions increased. “You're not on any of the town's planning committees. You've never come to the cabins before. In fact, this is the first time I've seen you in almost four years. So why the sudden interest in what I'm doing and whether I'm involved in the sesquicentennial?”

“The celebrations are important to the town.”

“Then why aren't you on any of the committees?”

Simon's expression became stubborn. “I've been busy. Until June, I had a very demanding full-time job.”

Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “Doreen has a full-time job. She's also running for mayor and chairing the celebration committee.”

Simon's brown eyes crackled with anger. “What kind of mayor can't convince a member of the town's founding family to say a few words during its Founders Day Celebration?”

A lightbulb came on. “Is that what this is about?”

“Trinity Falls deserves to have a real mayoral election. For too many years, our candidates have been running unopposed. That's not a democracy.”

Jack arched an eyebrow. “So you're going to run against Doreen.”

“You don't think I'm a viable candidate?”

“No.”

Simon's eyes grew wider. “Why not?”

The answer should have been obvious. “Doreen has been a force in this community for as long as I can remember. She's in the newspaper all the time, raising money for emergency services and the elementary school, campaigning for lights in Freedom Park. What have you done for the town?”

Simon's face flushed. “I have ideas for the town, including ways that we could bring in more tourists for the sesquicentennial.”

“Doreen wants to do the same thing.”

Simon's manner cooled. “But Doreen's going to fail, and I'll use that failure against her to win the election.”

“You'll do it without me.” He left before he said something he'd regret. Jack had learned his lesson sixteen months ago. No one would use him ever again.

CHAPTER 8

Jack was as nervous as if this were a real date. Audra arrived at seven o'clock Wednesday night. With just a smile, she lifted the suffocating pressure from his chest. The bright light within her drove the dark shadows surrounding him back into the corners of his cabin.

“Are you going to let me in?” Laughter bounced in her voice.

“Sorry.” Jack moved out of her way. He watched her cross his threshold. Her light blue top draped her high breasts. Her matching capris hugged her slim hips. He could stare at her all night. Forever.

What was it about her that pulled him after he'd spent so many months pushing people away? What did he need from her? And what would happen to him when she and her bright light returned to L.A.?

Audra stood in the middle of the great room, taking in her surroundings. What did his home look like through her eyes? The honey-wood walls, stone fireplace, and large flat-screen T.V. were identical to the ones in Audra's cabin. So were the dark plaid sofa and matching armchair. But there were no curtains at his windows and the area rug tossed onto his floor was a darker shade of brown. The room was clean but spartan. It looked more like a rental cabin than Audra's. His shoulders slumped.

She turned to him. “Something smells wonderful.”

“Dinner's almost ready.” Jack led her to the dining room.

With just the small maple table and matching chairs, the dining room was even more depressing than the great room. Why hadn't he added a bookcase or artwork or even a table centerpiece? Something that made it seem more like a dining room than a mess hall.

He brought the bowls of mixed salad before serving the baked fish with asparagus and crusty bread.

“Would you like butter for your bread?” Jack was so out of practice. His conversation was putting him to sleep. Was it having the same effect on Audra?

“No, thank you. This is fine.” Her smile seemed stiff. Was it his imagination?

Their dinner conversation was stilted. The moments of silence were awkward. How could he make it better? “More iced tea?”

“Not yet, thank you. I haven't finished this one.”

“All right.” Perhaps it was just nerves, at least on his part.

“This fish is delicious.” Her compliment rescued his dampening thoughts. “Did you cook it yourself ?”

“Do you think I ordered takeout from Trinity Falls Cuisine to pass off as my own?” Jack's smile broadened as the blush rose in Audra's cheeks.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I'm just having a hard time picturing you behind a stove.”

“Why?”

“It's not the way I see you. Do you wear an apron?” Her full pink lips curved in a teasing smile that both calmed and aroused him.

He was fascinated by that smile. “How do you see me?”

“Fishing. Hiking. Cutting wood.”

“You've never seen me chop wood.”

Audra shrugged. “I can still picture it. But I can't see you being domestic.”

“You'd be surprised.”

“Believe me, I am.” She gestured toward her half-eaten dinner. “And impressed.”

Jack's laughter eased the lingering tension in his neck and shoulders. Now their conversation flowed more naturally. After dinner, he cleared the table, insisting Audra make herself comfortable while she waited for dessert. He returned with coffee and two plates of Boston cream pie.

Audra's champagne eyes widened. “You bake as well?”

Jack set the coffee and pie in front of Audra. “The pie's from Books and Bakery.” He offered her a fork before taking his seat.

“Doreen is a wonderful baker.” Audra's moan of pleasure stirred intimate muscles that had been dormant too long for Jack.

He cleared his throat. “Yes, she is.”

“You cook, you fish, you're gainfully employed. Why aren't you married?”

“I don't get out much.” Jack gave her a wry smile before taking another mouthful of pie.

“Why is that?”

He avoided her eyes. “I like my privacy, but there isn't much of that in Trinity Falls.”

“But people here admire you. They care about you.”

Jack swallowed more pie. “Are you asking a question?”

Audra considered Jack—the way he shifted on his chair, the way he avoided her eyes. Why did the idea of his neighbors speaking well of him make him uncomfortable? “I suppose I am. Why did you exile yourself to the woods?”

“It's what I prefer.”

“But why? What happened two years ago that made you choose to live away from people?”

“That's personal.” His knuckles paled as he gripped his coffee.

“So is sleeping together.” Audra met his gaze. “It's clear we're attracted to each other, but I can't share my body and nothing else. I'm not built that way.”

Jack stood from the table, pacing away from her. Audra followed him with her eyes. Would he tell her to leave or ask her to stay? Did she have the right to ask him to share his biggest secret?

His voice came low and tight. “Sixteen months ago, my daughter died.”

Shock chilled Audra. Her words poured on a breath. “I'm so sorry. What was her name?”

“Zoey. She was six years old when she was diagnosed with leukemia. She died before her ninth birthday . . .” Jack's voice drifted away.

“So young.” Audra's eyes stung with unshed tears.

“The chemotherapy treatment was as bad as the disease.” Jack rubbed his face with his right hand. “She grew weaker right before my eyes. She was already so little. She died less than two years later.”

That explained so much about Jack: his isolation, his previously unkempt appearance, the pain in his poet's eyes.

Audra dashed tears from her cheeks. “What happened to Zoey's mother?”

“She left before Zoey died.” Jack faced Audra. “Don't feel sorry for me. I don't need anyone's pity.”

Audra blinked at his angry words. “I'm sorry Zoey died, but I don't pity you. I admire you.”

“Why?” Jack's question was thick with suspicion.

“A lot of people would have crumbled. Your daughter died. You lost your wife—”

“I didn't lose her. She left.”

“But you're still standing.”

“Barely.” Jack massaged the back of his neck as he moved restlessly across the room.

“You've had some setbacks. That's understandable.”

“‘Setbacks' imply I'll return to fight another day. I don't know that I will.”

Audra gestured toward him. “Have you looked in a mirror lately? You already have.”

“Thanks to you.” His expression shifted from stubborn resistance to surprised confusion.

Audra shook her head. “This isn't about me. It's all about you.”

“Or us.” When he spoke, his voice was deep, warm, and compelling.

“Can there be an ‘us,' Jack?” Audra ignored the thrill of excitement that burst through her at the thought of being with this man. “I've just broken up with someone, and you're mourning your daughter.”

“So?”

“Is a casual relationship between us a good idea?”

“Why not?”

Audra shook her head, pulling her fingers through her hair. “For you, sex is a physical act. For me, it's a lot more.”

Jack returned to the dining table, looking into Audra's eyes. “You're a dangerous woman, Audra Lane.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“Because you make me want things I shouldn't want. You make me want to feel again.”

 

 

“You've been in Trinity Falls for almost a week. Have you left your cabin yet?” Audra's manager asked the question Thursday morning in lieu of the traditional cell phone greeting.

Audra scowled. “I have. Several times.”

“Really?” Benita's skepticism was annoying.

“Why don't you believe me?”

“Because I know you.”

The hissing sound in the background indicated her manager was making coffee. Audra checked her watch. It was just after ten o'clock in the morning, which meant it was seven o'clock in Los Angeles. Benita started her days early to accommodate her East Coast contacts. She pictured Benita standing beside the coffeemaker in her sterile office. This probably wasn't her first cup of java, though. And there was no guarantee additional caffeine would improve her mood.

Audra returned her guitar to its case and leaned back against the overstuffed sofa. “I've gone fishing, hiking and jogging. I've also explored your hometown. It's very pretty.”

“Pretty boring.” Benita snorted. “There's nothing to do. And most of the inmates are crazy.”

Audra thought about yesterday's hike with Jack, fishing with him at Pearl Lake, talking with the townspeople at Books & Bakery. She'd enjoyed those experiences more than she'd expected. Maybe over time it would become boring, but she couldn't imagine that.

“There's plenty to do. And the people here are nice, which is probably why you think they're crazy.”

“Who'd you go fishing and hiking with?” Benita's rapid-fire question dismissed Audra's response.

Audra propped her feet on the honey-wood coffee table. “Jack Sansbury, the guy you didn't tell me owns the cabins.”

“No way.” Benita tapped a couple of keys on her laptop. “I heard Jack became a recluse after his daughter died. How did you convince him to leave his cabin?”

“I asked him.” A wave of sadness rolled over Audra as she thought of what Jack had been through.

Audra set her papers on the coffee table and pushed herself off the sofa. She crossed to the front window, poking the curtain aside. How could his ex-wife have left him and their daughter? What kind of person was she? Audra couldn't fault Jack for tucking himself away in the cabins. What would she have done in his place?

Benita hummed. “That's it?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?” Audra listened to stainless-steel tap against a ceramic surface as Benita stirred her much-needed coffee. Her manager usually took three packets of sweetener and a third of a cup of French vanilla creamer. Audra's teeth ached at the thought of that much sugar.

“Listen, Audra. I'm glad you're getting out and trying new things. That's what I wanted for you when I booked you into the cabins.”

“So you said.” She turned from the window.

“Yes, I did. I was sure the change of scenery would cure your writer's block. Just be careful.”

“Of what?” Audra gave her manager her full attention now.

“You're coming off of a bad relationship. Jack's had some things happen in his past, too—”

Audra interrupted the other woman. “His daughter died and his wife left him.”

“So you see? You're both vulnerable right now.”

Audra circled the sofa. “I know. You don't have to remind me that Wendell was a mistake.”

Benita grunted. “Wendell is a jackass. Kerry's the mistake.”

Audra frowned. Benita had lost her. “Who's Kerry?”

“Jack's ex. Listen, just be careful. Don't become distracted by a vacation romance.”

Audra planted her right hand on her hip. “If I'm on vacation, why are you calling me?”

Benita's sigh blew through the cell towers. “How's the writing coming?”

Audra glared at the coffee table and her pages of disjointed notes. “Not well.”

Her manager sighed again. “Are you still having trouble sleeping?”

“Yes.” Although Audra had a feeling her stress was less about her writing and more about the recluse down the road.

“The clock's ticking, Audra.” Benita was tapping her pen against her desk.

“I can't hear it over your constant nagging.”

“Believe me. You'd rather hear my nagging than a music producer's complaints.”

Her manager had a point. “I'll have something to you soon.”

“Do you need an extension on your deadline?”

“No.” Audra reclaimed her notes from the table. “I'll keep working on the songs. I just need to clear my head.”

“All right. Keep me posted.” Benita disconnected the call.

Audra tossed her cell phone to the other side of the sofa. The lyrics were stuck in her brain, just out of reach. She needed to get them out. How?

 

 

“Shouldn't you be at work?” Jack led Darius into his great room Thursday afternoon.

“I'm on my lunch break.” The reporter gave him a critical once-over. “You look better.”

“Is that why you're here?” Jack folded himself onto his armchair and rested his right ankle on his left knee.

“Don't flatter yourself.” Darius sank onto the sofa. “My father wants to be mayor of Trinity Falls.”

“I know. He stopped by yesterday.”

Darius' scowl darkened. “He also wants a prominent role in the Founders Day Celebration. What made you think that would be a good idea?”

“Me?” Jack frowned at the other man. “How's that my fault?”

“He said you suggested it.”

Jack's memory returned. “I didn't realize he'd take me literally.”

Darius' sigh was deep. “I know you don't want any part of Founders Day or the sesquicentennial in general. But Doreen doesn't need my father's interference on this, as well as the campaign.”

“I know.” Jack scrubbed both hands over his face. “How can I fix this?”

Darius stood to prowl the great room. “No one can reason with either of my parents, especially my father.”