Winter Reunion (12 page)

“That's where they'll be when they're still jobless at the end of the six months. And that's what welfare
is for.” He lifted a shoulder. “I'm just trying to make it easier and more expedient for everyone. You surely don't have time for this nonsense, and I know Devlin wants to get back to the military. I'll even make it worth your while financially, because I have some planning deadlines I want to meet before the first of the year.”

“You can't be serious.”

His gaze hardened. “I never say anything I don't mean.”

“Interesting, because I'm sure you just said that you love ‘quaint old buildings' a moment ago.”

“I may enjoy touring them, but eventually they become a financial liability. Heating, upkeep, maximum return per square foot—it all has to be considered.”

“Well, I say what I mean, too, and I gave my word to Dev and the lawyer, Mr. Murdock. I believe Vivian wanted Dev and I to help the people living in the boardinghouse, not walk away because it would be more convenient.”

Again he smiled, but now she saw what lay beneath his gentle facade—a shrewd, hard-nosed businessman who was accustomed to getting his own way. “It sounds like easy math to me. I can offer you ten grand to walk. But if you stay the whole six months and fail to launch every last one of those has-beens, you'll lose the building anyway. Isn't it better to have a guaranteed check in your hand instead of desperately hoping that each one of the boarders can make the grade?”

His arrogance grated against nerves she didn't even know she had. “I don't want to discuss this any further.”

“Don't make an enemy of me, darlin'.” He narrowed his pale blue eyes on hers. “I'll go talk to Devlin, but in the meantime, you need to think hard about my offer. Because I can guarantee you'll fail to meet the conditions of the will, and then the whole ball game will be mine—
without
having to give the two of you a single dime.”

He turned on his heel and walked out, closing the door quietly behind him.

Beth sank against the counter, her knees weak and her pulse racing, thankful that the book club members had left before Stan started talking. But what if he caught Dev at the wrong moment and played his cards just right? Surely Dev wouldn't fall for it.

She hoped.

“Ms. Carrigan?”

The quiet, lightly accented voice came out of nowhere. Beth jerked way from the counter and stumbled back a step.

“I am so sorry,” Elana said, a hand at her mouth. “I thought you saw me come in.”

Beth could only hope the woman hadn't heard Stan's harsh words. “Can I help you?”

“That man. He said everyone at Sloane House was a failure. No good.”

“He is a very
rude
man. And he was wrong.”

“I have been thinking about what you said. About the job.” Her chin lifted, and her eyes sparkled with defiance. “I am tired of hiding in the shadows. That's why I came.”

“You're willing to work here? Really?”

“Now, more than ever. It will give me more money for school, and bigger chances, just as you said. That man who was here thinks I am a failure, but I am going to prove him wrong.”

B
eth hugged her mother tight. For all of her worries beforehand, the visit had flown by, and they'd reconnected over lattes and treasure hunts through the local consignment stores when Beth had an afternoon free.

“I'm sorry you have to leave,” Beth whispered, giving her mother another hug. “Can you come back at Christmastime?”

“I'll try, if only for a couple days. I'll start checking on flights when I get home.” Again, a weary look crossed Maura's expression…one of many over the past few weeks, yet she'd refused to say anything about what might be wrong. “The road trip would just be too hard in the winter.”

“Please, I need to know. Is something wrong? I've been worrying about you since you arrived.”

Maura stepped back and adjusted the colorful scarf around her neck. “Nothing of importance. Worries over my gallery, of course. It's hard to be away, especially through the busy fall season.”

Beth rested a hand on her forearm in silent appeal. Maura stilled, then her shoulders sagged.

“I…had a bit of a scare, before I left home. Some lab tests that didn't look quite right, plus an inconclusive CT scan, so they did a biopsy.” She smiled wearily. “All this time, I've been waiting for the results, and I finally called this morning. Turns out that the clinic sent the report to my home address, and never thought to call my cell phone. I'd been thinking that this might be my last trip here, and that I needed to settle a lot of things in my life, but I've been worried over nothing.”

Relief flooded through Beth as she stepped forward to give her mother another fierce hug. “Oh, Mom.”

“I should have trusted more and worried less.” Maura's smile turned rueful. “It's hard trying to fix the world when you fear you might only have a short time. I might have been just a
little
hard on Devlin one day. I haven't seen him lately, but extend my apologies if you happen to see him.”

 

After closing up the bookstore at five, Beth found Dev working on the cottage, the windows and doors open to the crisp October breeze.

“Stan Murdock came to see me.”

“What did
he
want?”

“He wants us to give up, since we're going to fail anyway. He offered me ten grand to just walk out on the clause in your mother's will. He…um…said he was coming to talk to you next.”

“He knows better.” Dev looked down at his clenched
fists and relaxed them, flexing his fingers. “My aunt was a successful stock broker, and when he married her it was all about the money for him. I wonder if he ever really loved her. The last thing I'd want is for him to inherit a square inch of Sloane property.”

“So you won't deal with him?”

“Let's just say I'd be surprised if he walked in this door. And if money was promised under the table, I'd want to see it in cash and counted before I'd believe anything. Not that I'd take a penny of it.”

“He said there was no way we could ever succeed with the residents at Sloane House. Could he…would he do anything to cause trouble?”

“I don't know him that well. But from what I remember, he wasn't dishonest so much as a guy willing to mow right over anyone who stands in his way. Even as a kid, I couldn't see what my aunt saw in him.”

“So he's harmless.”

“
No one
is completely harmless.” Dev thought a moment. “He's a personable guy, but underneath he's a hard-nosed businessman who goes after what he wants. It was underhanded of him to make that offer. But dangerous? I'd guess he's more hot air than anything else. I hope.”

“One other thing. Did you happen to have any…um…awkward conversations with my mother while she was here?”

He laughed at that. “Beth, that would typify every conversation she and I ever had, bar none.”

“Well, if there was anything in particular that
transpired during her stay here, she wanted me to tell you that she's very sorry—though I have absolutely no idea what she meant.”

 

Beth started for her car, then Olivia's words came back to her and she returned to the cottage, where she found Dev peeling off the last of the blue painter's masking tape from around the frames of the mullioned windows in the living area. “How are you doing, by the way?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Fine. Why?”

“Just wondering. I know your shoulder must be killing you when you work like this. And everything else…well, it can't be easy.”

He wadded up the ball of tape and tossed it into a trash can. “Everything else?”

“Well…with all you did in the Marines.”

His eyes narrowed on hers, but at least he didn't stalk away. She'd expected that.

“It must be hard sometimes.” Flustered by his silence, she stumbled on. “I mean, thinking about some of the bad things that happened. If you ever need to talk to anyone, I'm here.”

His gaze still lasered on hers, and several seconds ticked by before he finally shook his head. “Thanks. But there's no need.”

Yes, there is, if Frank and Olivia are right and you're jumping at shadows. What would it be like to be living in a nightmare part of the time—and never know when flashbacks might strike?
But she couldn't make him talk, and even if he did, what could she say except to
offer comforting words or bland, useless reassurances that things would get better?

Maybe they wouldn't.

Maybe he would never really get over the raw experiences he'd had—experiences she couldn't even imagine.

At the thought of the burden he was carrying in his heart, she wanted to go over to him and put her arms around him to give him comfort and support and…

She imagined herself wrapped in his powerful yet gentle embrace, feeling the beat of his heart when she leaned against his hard, muscled chest.

Feeling protected and loved and warm, the way she had a lifetime ago, before everything went wrong. But there was no point in foolish thoughts.

He had changed, and so had she. And there would be no going back.

“I
can't believe we got this done. I think,” Beth said with a grin, “that we three should go on television as a home staging team, because we are
amazing.
”

“As long as we can get our mitts on a treasure trove of an attic,” Keeley laughed. “The wonderful furniture and those burly football players in the youth group made it possible.”

“We sure couldn't have carried it all.” Olivia studied the living room of the cottage with admiration. “And that boarder of yours is a treasure, too. How did she ever sew the curtains so fast?”

“Elana must've stayed up all night to do it. I don't think she even had a pattern, which impresses me to no end. I can't even hem straight.”

Olivia gave the curtains another long look. “Elana works at the motel, right?”

“Part-time there, and also at my store. She's planning on taking business classes at the community college after that.”

“Good for her.”

At a light rap on the open front door, they all turned to find Dev there, with Frank at his side. “Is it safe to come in yet?”

Olivia laughed. “I want to fight you for the right to live here, but I don't think all my dogs and cats would fit. So you're safe.”

He stepped inside, his dark hair ruffled by the brisk October wind, bringing in the sweet scent of the burning leaf pile Carl was tending in the yard. He studied the heavy oak living room furniture, the brass lamps, and the painting of mallards in flight that now hung over the fireplace.

Beth's traitorous heart kicked in an extra beat when Dev surveyed the room a second time, then grinned at her.

“This is beautiful.”

“Take a look at the other rooms, too. We found a great bedroom set in your mother's attic, along with a nice pecan table and set of chairs for the kitchen.”

Frank checked out the kitchen cupboards. “Looks like they even set you up with dishes and such. I'll bet that was Reva's doing.”

“It was indeed,” Keeley called out.

“What?” He leaned out of the kitchen, a hand cupped at his ear.

“Reva took care of all that.” Keeley tucked a strand of honey-blond hair behind her ear. “Most of the pieces were stored away in the attic. A few pots and pans were extras from the kitchen.”

Beth glanced at her watch. “I've got to run. I left
Elana to cover the bookstore for a couple hours, but I'd better get back.”

“Keeley and I need to get going, too.” Olivia gave him a quick, grandmotherly hug. “Welcome to your new home, soldier.”

 

Elana smiled shyly when Beth walked into the bookstore. “I sold two books while you were gone. And a magazine.”

Beth had known it would be quiet on a Sunday afternoon near the end of the tourist season, and on this particular day, she was grateful for it. “So your first cash register lesson was put to work already.”

“You'd better check to make sure I did it right. But I think so.”

Cody peeked around the corner of the children's section, then limped up to join his mother. “I watched. She did really good!”

Reaching down to ruffle his thick dark hair, Beth smiled. “I'll bet she did. And I'll bet she was glad to have you here with her on her very first day.”

He nodded, his face shining with pride.

“I'll tell you what—I'll show you two how to close up, in case you ever have to do that. And then I'll give you a ride home.”

“No, you should not bother….”

But Elana's voice lacked conviction, and her uneasy gaze skated to the front windows. Dusk had already fallen, and the six-block walk would get them home well after dark on a chilly night.

“Of course I will. I wouldn't want to walk after dark, either. Now, about closing up at the end of the day…”

 

After a lesson on closing down the cash register and how to place a special order for books, Elana helped Beth straighten up the store displays, turn off the assortment of lamps and double-check the back-door lock.

“See, it's all easy, and you've caught on really fast. I hope you'll like working here.”

Elana nodded, her brow furrowed. “What about your other clerk—will she be able to work soon?”

“She'll be away at least two months with her broken ankle, but she also found out she has some heart problems and says she doesn't want to work nearly as much, even if she does return. You're welcome to all of her usual hours and more, if you want them.” Beth grabbed her car keys and purse from the counter. “Shall we go?”

She let Elana and Cody step outside, then she turned to lock the door. At Elana's sharp gasp, she spun around. “What is it?”

Elana had a tight grip on Cody's shoulders. “I—I thought I saw something…just over there.” She tipped her head toward the rear bumper of Beth's car. “I don't see anything now.”

Darkness had fallen, but the old-fashioned street lamps cast a gentle glow on the street, and there were security lights shining at the peak of each of the other buildings on the block. Beth's car was the only one in sight, its headlights not more than ten feet from the store entrance.

“I don't see a thing,” Beth murmured. “And honestly, I don't remember the last time there was any trouble in this area. Six months, at least. It's a safe place to live.”

“But strangers can come here,” Elana whispered. “They could come from anywhere, and think this place is…is…an easy mark,
sí?
”

“I've never felt afraid in Aspen Creek. A lot of people leave their doors unlocked. People trust each other here, Elana.” Beth offered an encouraging smile. “The sheriff and his lone deputy might be straight out of Mayberry, but they don't have much to deal with. I've even heard one of the deputies complain that an occasional shop-lifter was the most excitement they saw all year.”

Elana cast another uneasy look over her shoulder.

“And now, in the middle of October and on a Sunday night, there ought to be very few tourists still around, if any.” Beth reached for her cell phone and held it aloft. “Don't worry, though—I've got my phone, and just pressing the 9 will call 911. But I've never had to use it here, believe me.”

She circled her car, checked the backseat, then once again surveyed the empty street. “All clear. I'm sure of it.”

A cat appeared far down the sidewalk, its tail held high as it marched in the opposite direction. With a meow he vaulted over a gate between two buildings and disappeared.

Elana's shoulders sagged with relief. “A cat. Only a silly cat. Right, Cody?”

Despite all reassurance to the contrary, she scurried forward when Beth hit the button on her key ring to
unlock the doors, pushed Cody inside, then clambered in after him and hit the door lock on her side.

She was still breathing heavily and muttering under her breath in Spanish when Beth got in and locked her own door.

“There,” Beth soothed, seeing the frightened expression in Cody's eyes. She glanced over her shoulder at the empty rear seat, then started the engine. “We're all safe. It was just a cat, after all.”

But after she pulled away from the curb and started down the block, she flicked a glance at the empty street in the rearview mirror.

It wasn't hard to see how Elana had become so wary. Just being with her and sensing her fear had made Beth's own heart rate escalate for a few beats.

What would it be like for a woman like Elana, whose bogeyman was real?

 

Once Elana and her son were safely back at Sloane House, Beth drove home and parked on the street directly in front of the entrance.

The street was still empty and brightly lit…a street she'd lived on for some time now, without ever being afraid. Again her thoughts turned back to Elana and her son—who had obviously picked up on his mother's fears tonight. What had they been through in the past to still affect them so deeply? What was it like to live in such terror?

The wonder of it was that Elana had found the courage to move here alone with her son and go out of the house every day for her job.
I think I see my first mission
at Sloane House, God,
she murmured to herself.
But I'm going to need Your guidance. I need to find a way to help that woman or she'll never, ever be free of her past.

Headlights appeared at the far end of Hawthorne, coming her way. Devlin's Jeep, she realized as the vehicle passed under a streetlight. Grabbing her purse and keys, she stepped out of her car and waved to him as she moved to the entryway leading up to her apartment.

He pulled to a stop behind her vehicle and jumped out. The soft light of the street lamps made his dark hair gleam, and cast intriguing shadows on the planes and angles of his face.

He was still, and always would be, the only man who had ever made her pulse race just with his presence…though the days of wanting to recognize those feelings were long past.

So how long was it going to take for her heart to accept it?

“Am I ever glad you weren't here twenty minutes ago,” she called out. “Elana was spooked by every shadow when we came out of the bookstore to take her and Cody home. She probably would have collapsed if she'd seen a car come up the street.”

His tense expression softened. “That's where you were? I tried calling the bookstore, but there was no answer. And you didn't answer your cell phone, either.”

Surprised, she fished it out of her purse and studied the screen. “Oops. I had the ringer too low to hear when it was in my purse. What's up?”

“I was worried.”

“Worried? There's no reason to be.” But she could see he was breathing hard and his eyes were dark and dilated, and she knew he was telling the truth. “I think you've gotten overly cautious in your old age.”

“You shouldn't be living here, away from a residential area.”

“I
love
my home.”

“It isn't safe.”

“It's fine. The person who needs help is Elana. I think every sound and shadow is enough to stop her heart. How is she going to function independently unless she gains more confidence?”

He frowned and folded his arms across his chest. “Maybe you should stay at Sloane House.”

Startled, she stared at him. “You're not serious.”

“I mean it. There's a maid's apartment on the third floor that isn't in use. Or there are some sofas on the main floor.”

She smiled at him. “I have a security system—not that I expect it will ever earn its keep. If someone breaks in, the police are summoned unless I press a code on the keypad.”

“But it's an understaffed department that could be occupied by a fender bender or a cat up a tree. And if you don't have a good security system, an expert can get in anyway.”

“I'm not staying at Sloane House. The idea is ridiculous.”

He gave a long sigh. “When did you become this stubborn?”

“When did you become such a guardian angel?” she countered. Looking up at him, she realized that all of this was because he cared for her still. And suddenly she had the oddest sensation that he wanted to kiss her.
Where was that coming from?

He gave her a fierce hug, then stepped away, only to bend down to drop a swift kiss on her mouth. And from the dazed look in his eyes, he was nearly as surprised as she was.

 

She'd looked up at him wide-eyed and dazed, and he knew his impulsive, possessive kiss had rattled her more than any prospect of an intruder.

He hadn't meant to do it. He didn't have the right. But something about her living out here alone and defenseless had triggered a primitive, protective instinct deep inside him, and it had taken all his willpower to step away before he kissed her again.

“Maybe you'd better go,” she whispered.

He dutifully took another step away from her. “I can check out your store and apartment while you wait here,” he offered, not quite ready to just climb behind the wheel of his Jeep and drive away.

“If anyone got through those doors while I was gone, the police would already be here. Believe me.” She sighed. “But okay. Come up and check things out if it'll make you feel better, but then you'll have to go.”

“Of course.”

She unlocked the door leading to the upstairs and ushered him on ahead of her. When he reached the upper
floor and opened the door, he drew in a slow breath. “This is nice, Beth.”

A subdued, stained-glass chandelier hung over the kitchen table, bathing the area in warm golden light.

An inviting, deep plush sofa and love seat in dark cranberry were angled toward a small fireplace, with lush green plants sitting on windowsills and oil paintings of the Rockies adorning the wall space not filled with bookshelves.

The place felt warm, cozy and inviting, unlike the overly feminine touches at Sloane House that made him leery of sitting on fragile chairs.

Here, in Beth's tidy kitchen, the oak cabinets, marble countertops and expanse of windows were probably even more beautiful during the day with sunshine streaming inside and everything so neatly cleared of clutter.

Though taped to the refrigerator was something oddly out of place—a layout for some sort of a building, sketched in detail…with cross-outs and arrows, and notes at all angles.

But that's not your business. Nothing in Beth's personal life is your business anymore.

He jerked his attention back to his mission and took a quick tour through the apartment, then met her at the entryway. “Looks good. But don't forget—I'd be happy to come any time, if you're worried about anything.”

She smiled. “I really appreciate your concern. But I'm a big girl now. Not the shy little thing you married all those years ago.”

“No, I guess not. About that…”

She shook her head. “Over and done with.” She
opened the door to the stairway, hesitated, then turned and brushed a quick kiss against his check. “Thanks, Dev. I appreciate it.”