The Cabin (21 page)

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Authors: Carla Neggers

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Adult, #Suspense, #American Light Romantic Fiction, #Fiction - Romance, #Romance: Modern, #Ex-convicts, #revenge, #Romance - Suspense, #Separated people, #Romance - General

think I have ten million?”

He gave her a sheepish smile. “It’s what everybody

says at Jimmy’s.”

She didn’t believe him.

“I don’t know what happened,” he said. “I had buck-

ets of money. Buckets. And people crawling all over me,

wanting to invest in anything I came up with. Now it’s

all disappeared.” He lowered his gaze to her, the edge

still there. “What would you do if you lost everything?”

“By ‘everything’ I assume you mean all my money.

Well, for starters I’d hope I wouldn’t alienate everyone

who cares about me. I’d look to the constants in my life

for emotional support—family, friends.” She thought of

Jack, who’d been there in the lean times when they were

first starting out, at her side when she delivered twin

babies—through everything she’d done since she was

nineteen years old. But she pushed the thought aside,

focusing instead on Destin. “You have to get a grip, Des-

tin. Money isn’t who I am. It’s not who you are.”

“Easy to say when you’re sitting at the end of the

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rainbow with your pot of gold. I’m in the red zone. I

liked me better when I had dough. Shit, I’m lucky they

haven’t come for the fillings in my teeth.”

Susanna had started to shiver from the cold. “Did you

break into Gran’s house last night?”

“Hell, no. Jesus—Susanna, you don’t think I—”

“You know Audrey Melbourne, the new woman

who’s been hanging around at Jim’s Place, don’t you?

Redhead, small, Texas accent.”

“Maybe I should go.”

She heard Davey Ahearn’s truck rattle into her drive-

way. Destin turned, going pale at the sight of Jack climb-

ing out. Susanna said, “Audrey is actually a former

police officer from south Texas named Alice Parker.

Jack investigated her for official misconduct, and she

ended up serving a year in prison. She got out on New

Year’s Eve.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“That’s why Jack’s up here.” She tilted her head back,

feeling less anxious, either because her husband was

here or she had Destin on the defensive. Or both. “He

ran into an intruder at Gran’s last night. He’s not happy

about it.”

Destin licked his lips, glancing outside. “Holy shit,”

he said with a fake laugh, “he just gets bigger and

meaner looking, doesn’t he?” But his gaze shifted back

to Susanna, his blue eyes intense as he added in a low

voice, “Suze, you have to help me. This is my last shot.

I can’t—it’s only a hundred grand. I’ll never bother you

again. Promise.”

Jack walked into the mud room, and Destin flew

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around, grinning awkwardly. “Hey, there. Jack, right?

The Texas Ranger? I’m Destin Wright, a friend of your

wife’s. I’m up here doing some bobsledding, thought I’d

drop by and say hi.”

“You hiked in?” Jack asked, tight-lipped.

“Yeah, I went down the wrong driveway, decided I’d

just tromp along the lake. Wish I’d brought my snow-

shoes with me. The ones I have back home, I could

climb Everest in them.”

Jack unbuttoned the top button of his suede jacket.

“Do you want a ride back to your car?”

Destin quickly shook his head. “No, no, that’s okay.

I don’t want to interrupt your vacation. It’s nice out—

kind of cold, but that’s what we’re up here for, right?

The snow and the cold?” He grinned uneasily, taking a

step toward the door, which Jack was still blocking. He

looked back at Susanna. “I’ll see you around.”

Jack stepped out of the way, deliberately, and Des-

tin shot past him. Jack shut the door and turned to Su-

sanna. “You want to tell me about this guy?”

“He’s a pest.” She was shivering, her socks soaked,

her feet half-frozen. “He wants me to invest in a new

company he’s starting. I said no, and he thinks if he

keeps asking me, I’ll change my mind.”

“What about coming up here?”

“It’s vintage Destin. He has no sense of boundaries.”

Jack unbuttoned the last of his coat, and it fell open,

his broad chest reminding her of last night. But he was

still on Destin. “He’s broke?”

Susanna nodded. “He made a fortune in a dot-com

company he cooked up a few years ago, then lost it all.

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He’s even had his car repossessed. I’m not getting in-

volved. He’s a black hole. He has a huge sense of enti-

tlement—” She stopped, shaking her head. “He’s not

getting a dime out of me.”

But Jack was frowning at her, and suddenly he took

two long steps over to her and grabbed her by the waist

with both hands, lifting her off her feet.

“Jack? What are you doing?”

He sat her on the wooden bench in the middle of the

mud room. “Your lips are blue.” He squatted down in

front of her and pulled off her wet socks one at a time.

Then he took one foot in each of his hands and mas-

saged them, easing his thumbs over the sensitive skin

of her arches. He looked up at her, a spark in his dark

eyes. “You don’t want to get hypothermia.”

That was impossible now. “Jack…”

“This guy, Destin,” he said, caressing her ankles,

sending heat up through her calves, higher, deeper.

“How desperate is he?”

“As desperate as he thinks he is. Um, Jack…”

He smiled innocently, although he couldn’t quite

manage to make his eyes look even remotely innocent.

“What, Susanna?”

She loved him then. At that moment she wanted to

melt into him and stay with him forever. But there were

her secrets, her fears, her questions and the dangers that

came with loving a man like Jack Galway as much as

she did. He was hard, strong, protective, kind and com-

pletely relentless in everything he did.

“I should go in and change clothes,” she said quietly,

a little hoarse.

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Carla Neggers

“Do you want me to carry you over the puddles?”

She groaned, then laughed. “You don’t let up for a

second, do you?”

He eased to his feet. “Not my style.”

She jumped up, right into an icy blob of snow from

his boot. She managed to stifle a yell at the shock of the

cold water on her now warm feet and navigated the rest

of the pools, the clumps of unmelted snow, the wet

socks, the wet gloves. When she was at the kitchen, she

glanced back at the mess. “I’ll tell Maggie and Ellen to

get in here with the mop.”

But he said nothing, his jaw set hard, his body rigid,

and her own body responded almost automatically. Last

night hadn’t been enough, and not just for him.

She turned quickly, making a beeline for her bed-

room and warm, dry clothes.

��

Eleven

Jack dumped his winter gear on the kitchen table and

cut off the tags with his pocket knife. Maggie and Ellen

had finished mopping the mud room and joined Iris at

a card table in front of the fire to work on an old jigsaw

puzzle she’d found. He knew he was here for the dura-

tion today, but he had no intention of putting together

an English countryside castle. At least the lump on his

head had gone down.

He’d bought insulated wind pants, insulated boots,

insulated gloves and a knit hat the girls said was cool.

He figured he’d hang in with his jacket, socks and shirts

and didn’t need long underwear. How cold could it get?

He wasn’t sure how long he’d stay. Right now, through

the night at least—perhaps until he learned more about

this Destin Wright character.

A lot depended on Susanna.

He’d also bought snowshoes. Having learned from his

daughters’ machinations, he had opted for spring-loaded

bindings. They were more expensive, but he didn’t care.

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Carla Neggers

He’d put everything on his own damn card. By the

time he got to town, he was frustrated he was picking

out wind pants instead of finding out what Alice Parker

was up to, why she’d moved to Boston and befriended

his wife’s grandmother.

And he was pissed as hell at his wife and all her

millions.

Then he spotted Destin Wright in her damn cabin in

the woods, and all he could think about was making sure

no one touched her.

Hell of a thing, being married to Susanna. But even

after their months of living apart, he couldn’t imagine

life without her. If only roses and lavender sachets

would do the trick. He suspected, however, it was going

to take more—like confronting her about what she was

hiding from him.
Talking
to her. He’d let his work pre-

occupy him in the months before she’d left. He knew it.

Maggie and Ellen had a point about the fire wall he’d

put up between his home life and his work. It extended

to Susanna’s work, too.

He scooped up his snowshoes. “You girls want to go

out and help me break in my new snowshoes?”

They were unenthusiastic. “Do you hear the wind

howling?” Maggie asked, shuddering. “The wind chill

must be below zero.”

“But it’s a dry cold,” her great-grandmother said.

“It doesn’t penetrate into your bones the way a damp

cold does.”

Maggie sighed at her. “Frozen solid is frozen solid,

Gran. I don’t care if it’s a dry or damp cold.”

Ellen had about twenty puzzle pieces laid out on the

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179

palm of her hand and up her wrist. She was deep into her

puzzle-building, staring at a stretch of rose garden she

was putting together. “Maybe Mom will go with you.”

Jack doubted it. Susanna was still hiding in her bed-

room after her foot massage. Maybe she was dreading

the long hours of silence and darkness that lay ahead of

them. There was no television, no VCR, no computer,

no regular telephone, spotty cellular reception. Maggie

and Ellen each had a Walkman, and there was an old

radio on top of the refrigerator. There were no neigh-

bors. No city lights. With snow in the forecast, they

wouldn’t want to head into town and find a movie the-

ater or a restaurant.

If not for his presence, it’d be Susanna’s idea of

heaven. But he liked complicating her life. He needed

to complicate it more often, the way he had last night.

“We’re starting a Scrabble tournament after we put

in a few more pieces of this puzzle,” Maggie said. “Do

you want us to wait for you, Dad?”

Scrabble.

“No,” Jack said. “Don’t wait.”

He didn’t know how he’d last until morning. He

headed out through the mud room and dumped his

snowshoes on the driveway. Clouds had moved in from

the west. The landscape was soft grays and whites now,

making everything seem closer, more intimate.

He put on his snowshoes without a hitch and tramped

down to the lake. Easy. Just like walking with Bozo

shoes. He left the trail and broke through the fresh snow,

moving along the edge of several fir trees above the

lake, toward a granite outcropping. Darkness came early

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Carla Neggers

this far north, but it wasn’t here yet, the last of the day-

light slowly easing out. Snow flurries seemed to hover

midair.

When he came to the outcropping, he started up a

short, steep incline, hit rock and ice and fell on his ass.

No warning, just down he went.

Behind him, Susanna sputtered into laughter.

He leaned against the boulder and untangled his

snowshoes, an awkward maneuver that she seemed to

enjoy watching. She was about two yards from him, up

to her knees in snow. She wasn’t wearing snowshoes,

which gave him a definite advantage if he decided to go

after her.

He didn’t move to get up. “What if I broke an ankle?”

“You’d swear louder.” She walked up to him, lifting

her legs high in the deep snow. She had on a headband,

not a hat, her dark hair hanging down her back, dotted

with melting snow. She had on close-fitting pants that

emphasized her long, slim legs, even with her coat cov-

ering her hips and upper thighs. She settled her green

eyes on him. “Need a hand?”

“Nope. Just thought I’d sit here and watch you won-

der if I’m going to pull you down into the snow.” But

he got to his feet, his lower half covered in fluffy snow.

“You want to help me brush off?”

“No.”

He grinned at her. “You’re blushing.”

“You think so, huh?”

“Why else would your cheeks be red?”

She bit back a smile. “Because it’s eleven degrees out.”

“I don’t think so.” He pulled off a glove and touched

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181

his fingers to her cheek, lingering on the warm, smooth

skin. “Doesn’t feel cold to me.” He leaned in close, let-

ting his fingers trail across her mouth. “You blushed the

first time I saw you naked.”

Her eyes sparked, and this time there was no way she

could deny what she was thinking, feeling. “I don’t care

where all you grew up, I think you still have a little re-

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