Nemesis (Southern Comfort) (16 page)

Because it unsettled him, he released her hands back to her without a word.   “Kathleen’s not here yet.  But I can get you a table upstairs if you’d like to wait.”  He spread his hands out on the bar, suggesting bodily that it was off limits.  No way did he want her hanging out here, drinking his beer and giving him notions.

But damn Rogan limped up and ruined it.

“Sadie!” he exclaimed, delighted.  Captain freaking Hospitality.  “I have your table all ready.  Kathleen’s not here yet, but I’ll go ahead and get you seated. I put you by the fire since i
t’s gotten so chilly tonight.”

The two of them trotted off, heads together, chatting about the change in the weather and looking cozy as you please.  Sadie didn’t even give him a backward glance, which irritated him out of all proportion.

Wasn’t he the one who’d sat with her at the hospital?  Wasn’t he the one who’d housed and fed her for the past two days?  Wasn’t he the one who’d washed her hair – despite the fact that restraining himself from doing a whole hell of a lot more had nearly killed him?

And yet Rogan was the hero for saving her a table.

Her laughter pealed out like tinkling bells across an open glade, and Declan barely restrained himself from kicking the bar. 

Tinkling bells.

Good God.

Kathleen showed up right about that time, and he pinioned her with his
most vengeful death stare.

She simply raised an eyebrow and went off to join the happy little group by the fire. 

Maybe he could beat her with what remained of the wood from his fence.

KATHLEEN
ignored the Black Cloud of Gloom glaring at her from the bar, smirking to herself as she crossed the room to join Sadie.  Honestly, this was even more entertaining than watching the fireworks the two of them had set off while growing up.  She never would have wished Sadie’s run-in with those men on her, not in a million years, but in terms of breaking Declan out of the invisible box he’d built around himself, she couldn’t have asked for a better hammer. 

He’d always had a thing for Sadie, even when they were kids.  And now that she was back he was displaying the kinds of emotions he hadn’t in years: concern, protectiveness, even the milk of human kindness.  Granted, it was one percent, but it was human dairy nonetheless.

It was enough to make a cynic believe in miracles.

Sliding happily onto one of the chairs at the table, she leaned over and gave Sadie a smacking kiss.

“And that was for…?” her friend asked wide-eyed, wiping the lipstick off of her cheek.  

“Fulfillin
g my fondest wishes.”

Now Rogan joined Sadie in regarding her like she was nuts.

“On that note,” he intoned, hauling himself back to his feet, “I think I’ll get back to work.  Terri will be your server.  She’ll be over in just a sec.”

“Sounds good.”  Kathleen waved him off with a smile before returning her attention to Sadie.  “So how did it go today?  Locks all changed, alarm installed?”

Sadie shook her head.  “The locks are changed – no thanks to you, I might add – but the alarm system’s a work in progress.  The wiring in the house is pretty old and apparently needs to be updated to handle the additional demand.”

“
Ouch.”

“
You’re telling me.” Sadie snatched one of the cheese straws that Rogan had set on their table for an appetizer.  “New wiring, new insulation, new paint. It’s probably going to end up costing an arm and two legs to get the place up to date.  Luckily the roof is holding up.” She smiled ironically.  “I got a real good look at it the other night.”

Kathleen frowned, not quite ready to be cavalier about the harrowing situation Sadie’d found herself in with those intruders.  But before she could delve into it further,
a curvaceous brunette approached their table. Presumably this was Terri. Kathleen had seen her at the bar before, but they hadn’t actually met.  She looked up to find dark brown eyes narrowing on her with feminine assessment.

“Are you Rogan’s girlfriend?” Terri asked, obviously eschewing bushes and the need to beat around them.

“Sister,” she corrected.

“Oh.  That’s cool.”  Terri sat a
glass of water in front of Sadie.  “I’ve seen you around and I knew Rogan’s girlfriend had red hair and… anyway.  Your brother’s hot.”

“Um, thanks
.” Kathleen lifted her brow at the waitress.  “But as you said, he does have a girlfriend.” 

“I know.”  She nodded her head, unfazed.  “
I was actually talking about Declan.  Being hot, I mean.  Although Rogan’s pretty hot, too.  They look a lot alike, actually.”

A beat passed in which Kathleen realized the woman hadn’t been joking. “That’s usually the way it works.  Considering they’re, y
ou know. Identical twins.”

“Right.”  Terri
rolled her eyes.  “I knew that.  But anyway, let me tell you about the specials…”

L
uckily Terri seemed to have more skill at the art of waitressing than she did at critical thinking, and they rattled off their orders.  Kathleen and Sadie were silent until she’d moved out of range.  Only when she hit the door to the kitchen did Sadie turn toward Kathleen, eyes wide.

“Don’t even say it.”
Kathleen held up a hand.  “The lights are on, but nobody’s home. I’m guessing Declan’s the one who hired her. Busty and brainless have always been his criteria.” 

DECLAN
caught Kathleen shooting a disgusted glance his way and wondered what her beef was now.  His sister was a damn nuisance, always trying to boss him around, cheer him up or otherwise stick her nose all up in his business. 

He worked hard, stayed out of jail and refrained from kicking puppies or scaring small children.

What the hell else did she want?

Then his brother, nearly as big a nuisance as Kathleen, arranged himself in Dec’s field of vision.  He vibrated with indignation from his ponytail to his walking cast.  There was a sermon imminent, if his body language was to be believed,
but Dec was fresh out of religion. 

So he ignored him, grabbing some newly washed pilsners and lining them up in the cooler, prompting Rogan to get well within the boundaries of Dec’s personal space.

“Something you wanted, Rogan, or were you simply attempting to relive our time in the womb?”

Rogan waited until Dec turned around before stepping back just enough to remain challenging.  “Any reason you can think of why Terri just pinched my ass in the kitchen?”

Declan pretended to reflect for a moment, one finger pressed against his chin.  “Maybe she mistook you for me.  Imagine her disappointment.”

With the ease of longstanding practice, Rogan ignored the jibe.  “I’m not sure exactly what your deal is lately, aside from your natural tendency to be an asshole, but don’t foist your hang-ups onto me.  Or your unwanted leavings, either.”

As with any siblings – especially twins – who lived and worked together so closely, there was a certain amount of jockeying in the brothers’ relationship.  Competition ran as deep as love through their identical veins, one constantly threatening to outstrip the other. And Declan knew exactly what buttons to push to tip the scales in his favor.  “There was a time, if I remember it correctly Bro, when you enjoyed a woman’s hand on your ass.  But I guess you’ve gotten a little more leery these past months, considering that grip Kim has on your balls.”

Rogan’s nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed to cover the bloodlust that crept into them.  This was about more than Kim, or Terri.  It was a debt too long unsettled.  A grudge too long held.  And Dec felt himself instinctively bracing for the first blow, ridiculously craving the violence.  It wasn’t the time or the place and was damn immature of him to provoke it, but his pent up frustration desperately needed an outlet. 

But his brother’s temper drained away before any fisticuffs ensued, sly amusement causing the blue pools of his eyes to ripple.  “You know, Declan, I’ve been waiting months for you to bait me about Kim. My limp practically begs for some ball-and-chain jokes. Yet you’ve been uncharacteristically reticent, considering your fondness for mockery, which brings the question
why now?
Any specific reason you felt the need to let loose with that ammunition here, when it’s just the two of us, instead of waiting for a time when you could cause the maximum damage? Maybe you’re losing your touch?  Getting soft?  Or maybe you have, oh, about a hundred and ten pounds worth of frustration short-circuiting your brain?”

Okay.  So Rogan had his own tricks. A well-balanced scale always had a counterweight.  “Whatever.” 

“The cop-out of comebacks.  You disappoint me, you really do.”

How the hell this situation had gotten turned around, Declan couldn’t say, but he didn’t like it.  He was the one who stirred shit up and rubbed salt in
to wounds and basically annoyed the general populace.  Rogan was the resident Boy Scout.  But before he could fix this anomaly in the structure which governed their lives, his brother clapped him on the shoulder.

“
If you’ll excuse me, there’s a pretty little blonde over yonder whose dinner I believe I need to buy.”                                           

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

SADIE
brushed a cobweb out of her way as she pulled a cardboard box toward her. The single bare bulb – which her security contractors had kindly replaced – barely reached into this far corner of the attic.  She squinted as she studied the hand-printed letters on the box.

“More Christmas decorations.  Wonderful.”  Sadie loved Christmas as much as the next person, but honestly, seven big boxes of decorations for one little house seemed like a bit much.  She’d already opened a box of ornaments, one filled with wooden Santas and one that contained a manger scene that had her swimming in a sea of nostalgia, but after the past two boxes filled with silverfish-filled wrapping paper
, tangled lights and dusty artificial garland, Sadie’s holiday spirit was about all used up.

Pushing that one aside without even bothering to examine the contents, Sadie shifted her attention to the other corner.  A scarred chest of drawers, a broken chair and the godawfulest lamp she’d ever seen stood there. Sadie had absolutely no recollection of that lamp, and wondered if it had been left by one of her renters.  Either that or she’d simply blocked it from her memory.

Looking around, she spotted another box stacked on top of an empty bookcase, and stood, arching her back to work out the kinks.  Then she walked over to the box to examine the neatly printed label.

SADIE.

“Well,” Sadie said, feeling another wave of nostalgia crash over her knowing her grandmother’s hands had lovingly boxed this up.  “At least it’s not Christmas.”

Pulling open the
flaps, Sadie sorted through memories of her childhood.  Most of her significant memorabilia – including photos of her parents, who’d died in a car crash before Sadie was a year old – had made the trip to Colorado, and back.  But here were some things that neither her teenage self nor her aunt and uncle deemed that important to bring. 

Photos, knickknacks, school art projects that made her smile.  She’d done a couple of these with her own students.
      

Laying them aside, she discovered
some scraps of fabric wrapped in one of those heavy plastic zippered cases in which comforters and blankets often come.

She lifted it out
, puzzled a moment over what these scraps of fabric had to do with her, then memory struck, and the unexpected force of it had Sadie plopping down onto her butt.

“Oh,” she said aloud, as she eased the zipper back, pulled the folded quilt onto her lap.  Then she traced the line of one of the interlocking rings made from squares of exquisite lace, ivory satin.  And remembered the day Declan’s mother had presented it to her on Sadie’s thirteenth birthday.  Sadie had been so embarrassed – and so touched – because Colleen Murphy had made similar wedding ring quilts for each of her daughters, fashioned from the remnants of her wedding gown.  Seeing Sadie’s interest – and sensing she was missing that link with her own mother – Mrs. Murphy had
made a quilt for Sadie, calling her her honorary daughter.

Sadie felt awful for having forgotten.

But then the pneumonia which had taken her grandmother came on so suddenly that Sadie’d still been in a fog of shock and grief when she’d been whisked off to Denver.  She guessed she could be forgiven for leaving parts of herself behind.

The muffled sound of her ringing cell phone reached her, and Sadie stood, cradling the quilt in her arms. 
Probably Kathleen, checking in. Sadie’d been up here longer than she’d realized.

She left the rest of the stuff to be sorted out later and headed for the rickety stairs.  Rather than simply replacing the springs, Doug had talked her into
purchasing a whole new unit, which had yet to be installed.  Curiosity had gotten the better of her, however, and she’d risked this visit to the attic.  She figured if the current set could hold two fully grown men, her weight shouldn’t be that much of a problem.