Ms. Starr’s Most Inconvenient Change of Heart (A Raven's Run Romantic Mystery Book 1)

by Dorothy St. James

  “The wedding means that much to you?” he asked. His jaw remained tight with tension.

  I nodded.

  For my mother’s sake, I’d walk through fire to give her an easier life.

  After another long silence Logan seemed to force out, “I’ll do what needs to be done to get you happily married on time.”

  “You will?”

  He nodded.

  I managed a weak smile. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  His kindness only made the tears return.

  “Sorry,” I rasped. “Sorry. I think I’m having one of those bridezilla moments.”

  “Ah.” He chuckled. “My sister had those. Let’s get inside. You’ll feel better once we start formulating our plan of action. Come on.”

  LOGAN SUDDENLY WISHED he hadn’t left New York. There, he would have faced down armed badasses instead of sitting in his uncle’s living room planning Sam’s wedding.

  Sure, the view was spectacular with the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the sprawling Lake Marion. Sunlight glinted off the lake making the dark water look as if it were a field of jewels. Even though he was surrounded by the beauty of nature in his favorite place in the whole world, sitting next to the most beautiful woman he’d ever known, misery hummed like angry bees in his chest.

  Why? Because he couldn’t take his mind off the fact that in a week’s time, Sam would be married. To another man. And she’d be happy. Healthy. Damn.

  He squeezed the pen in his hand so hard it snapped in half. Ink ran like a miniature river onto the living room’s comfortable denim-covered sofa. He jumped up and rushed into the kitchen in search of a damp rag.

  The ink wasn’t the only stain on the sofa. The cabin had been well-loved and well-lived in. Most things in the cabin were old and stained. But he didn’t want that particular stain to mar his uncle’s sofa for years to come. It would serve as a reminder of Sam and her happily-ever-after. Without him.

  Much to his displeasure, Sam followed him into the kitchen.

  As soon as they’d started working on her to-do lists for the wedding, she’d adopted a steely look of determination. It was a look Logan remembered well from their childhood.

  She’d stopped crying as soon as she’d jumped down from his friend’s truck. Once inside the cabin she’d locked herself into the only bathroom for nearly an hour. Logan had paced outside the door worried that she’d started crying again over the stalled wedding plans. But he didn’t knock.

  He’d been too much of a coward to find out if she was okay.

  If he knocked, he might have to deal with her tears. Seeing her cry had already torn at his heart. But that wasn’t what had stilled his hand. No, he had only gently pressed his hand against the door because he’d been terrified that if he asked, she might confess how much she loved her fiancé. And that wasn’t something he could bear to hear.

  So, he’d paced.

  And paced.

  And checked his watch.

  And paced some more.

  Until she’d finally emerged.

  Her hair had been combed and styled into a loose bun that sat high on her head. A few blonde tendrils had been left loose to tickle the back of her neck. Her face was no longer red and splotchy. A fresh coat of makeup had been applied, giving her pearly pink lips and soft smoky eyes. She’d somehow repaired the rips and pressed the wrinkles from her pretty blue dress. She’d slipped out of Dave’s old ill-fitting sneakers. Light pink nail polish teased him from her naked toes.

  She looked perfect.

  Like a mannequin.

  Logan hated it.

  Even now, with her standing too close to him in the kitchen, even after they’d spent the better part of an hour talking about her upcoming nuptials, he missed how she’d looked in the truck before she’d started sobbing. Without all that makeup, she looked natural, pretty.

  The cabin’s tiny kitchen had never felt this small. He itched to tell her to back up. He itched to tell her that he didn’t like her makeup. And he itched to grab her and pull her into his arms and kiss her until she forgot all about that foolish wedding.

  Shoot, that last thought had no business in his head.

  His attraction to her was simply a remnant from his past. A childhood crush. Nothing more.

  First, he’d get that ink stain out of his cabin and then Sam back to New Jersey. After that, his life could go back to normal.

  He grabbed the dishcloth he’d dropped under the tap with too much force. Water splashed all over him and the floor.

  “Let me do that.” Her hand brushed his as she took the damp cloth from him. “We need to move quickly before the stain sets.”

  Back in the living room, she knelt beside the sofa. With quick movements, she dabbed at the blob of ink. The white cloth turned blue, which meant she’d managed to soak up some of the ink. But the dark blue stain had also spread on the denim.

  Great. That ink would be there forever. Taunting him. Reminding him of Sam.

  “Don’t be such a worrywart,” she said, obviously noticing his agitation. “I’ve got this under control. The wet cloth is just the first step.” She dug around in her oversized purse and produced a small hairspray bottle. She started to spray the hairspray on the stain. She then took a clean section of damp cloth and blotted the stain. She continued the process of spraying and blotting until the stain was gone.

  Completely gone.

  As if it had never been there.

  Logan released the breath he hadn’t even realize he was holding as Sam sat back on her heels and smiled up at him.

  “You can leap off tall buildings without breaking a sweat, but a stain on an old lumpy sofa has you falling to pieces? This cabin must mean the world to you.”

  “It does.” He loved this place. “I spent my summers in this cabin with my brother and sister and five cousins. We would live in our swimsuits. Boating, swimming, fishing, munching on whatever we could get our hands on. We’d—” He stopped abruptly, unsure why she suddenly looked so unhappy.

  “You never told me about this place.” She bit her lower lip.

  “No. I didn’t.”

  “I’m confused. In the hospital, we talked about everything. But you never talked about this cabin. Why?”

  “Because the time I spent here was before I got sick. Afterwards, well, you know where I spent my summers. It hurt to think I might never come back here and that my cousins were still here enjoying life. So, I pretended the cabin had never existed.”

  Sam rose from where she was crouched beside the sofa and walked to one of the room’s large windows. She stood there silently, looking out over the lake. This was the first time she seemed to notice how the lake stretched out like a small sea in front of the isolated cabin.

  “You’re lucky to have enjoyed those years with your family here.” Sam shook her head. “I’m jealous. I was born with that bum heart. Most of my childhood memories are of hospitals. That’s where I grew up. No summers off for fun.”

  He wanted to give her some fun lake memories. He wanted to laugh with her. And swim with her. But then he remembered why she’d been crying so fiercely. “We’ve spent enough time making to-do lists for your special day,” he said, the words tasting bitter in his mouth. “Now I need to start making progress with clearing our names and getting us the hell out of the mess we’re in, so you can safely be at the church when you say, ‘I do’ to that perfect man of yours.”

  “He’s not—”

  “Yes?” He took a step toward her.

  “Nothing.” She turned back to the water. “Look, a fish just jumped.”

  Chapter 13

  Shortly after that awkward conversation, Logan disappeared into one of the bedrooms. I stayed in the living room while my mind reeled. I’m sure steam puffed out my ears too.

  How dare he? How dare Logan ruin what should have been the most wonderful time of my life? The days leading up to a wedding were supposed to be filled with fittings and teas and impromptu lunches with close friend
s.

  They shouldn’t be spent with my mind in a whirl of confused feelings for a man who didn’t even think I was worth kissing.

  Okay, so perhaps he had kissed me and ignited a passion I’d never felt with any man. Gracious, my lips tingled at the memory, drat the man. But none of that mattered. I was engaged and had no business thinking about Logan in any way other than to get his signature on those stupid divorce papers.

  I was glad he’d left the room.

  Yes, glad.

  Despite the broad shoulders and sexy as all get out deep voice, Logan wasn’t my type. Not. At. All. My. Type.

  All I had to do was take one look at those ugly tweed pants and wrinkled white shirt to know he wasn’t the guy for me. So, there was no good reason why my heart should flutter or why my hands felt all clammy or why I couldn’t seem to think straight when he stood near me.

  George was my future. He dressed like a winner, lived his life with an eye toward the next challenge, and he’d promised to treat my mother like a queen.

  That was what I wanted.

  I wanted my mother to be treated like a queen.

  Right.

  Good.

  Now that I had my head on straight again, I grabbed my notepad and got back to work on refining my lists and prioritizing who I needed to call as soon as Logan gave the okay for me to use his cell phone.

  My gaze kept leaving the page in front of me and traveling over to his cell phone. He’d left it sitting on the coffee table. It was one of those cheap flip phones. Logan said it was untraceable. Safe.

  I picked it up and turned it on.

  Unlike my smart phone, this one took forever to boot up and even longer to find any service bars. Considering we were in the middle of nowhere, I supposed I should have been counting my lucky stars that the phone found any cell service.

  First things first, I sent a text to my lawyer asking him to email me another set of the divorce papers. Logan should know where I could get them printed.

  With that done, I needed to make one more call. I pulled a long breath into my lungs before dialing George’s private cell number. It rang just a few times before clicking over to voice mail.

  “Call me as soon as you get this message. It’s important that we talk. And I...um...I need help with some of the wedding arrangements. You can call me at—” Crud. I stared at the phone in my hand as if looking at it would magically make its phone number appear. “Uh...call me on my phone as soon as possible. I...uh...I...love...you.”

  That last part sounded like a lie because it was a lie. I didn’t love George. He didn’t love me. Our relationship had never been about love or passion. We both had goals that we could only achieve with the other’s help.

  So why had I felt the need to force out the “L” word when I didn’t feel it?

  Logan. That’s why. He had my head feeling so muzzy I barely knew my own name.

  I didn’t want or need love. Love only complicated relationships. I was better off without it. Safer.

  With a frustrated huff I returned Logan’s phone to where he’d left it on the coffee table and then dug around in my purse for my phone. Once George heard the message he’d call. I turned the phone on and then dropped it back in my purse.

  George should call within a few minutes. I was sure of it.

  While I waited, I picked up my pad of paper and read through the lists Logan and I had completed. I was halfway through the task of refining my notes when Logan returned from one of the bedrooms.

  When I saw him, the pad of paper slipped from my hands and landed at my feet. I’m sure my mouth I gawped like the largemouth bass hanging above the fireplace.

  Logan had taken a quick shower. His damp hair was slicked back. And he’d changed his clothes. The faded blue jeans hung low on his waist. The black t-shirt showed off his ripped body.

  It wasn’t just his physique that had me feeling like the world had just tilted sideways. I’d already seen his chest in all its naked glory at the safe house. No, it was more than that.

  His entire demeanor had changed. He looked confident. Comfortable. These were clearly the kind of outfit he usually wore.

  The right clothes made the man. And man, oh man, those pants were right for Logan. They made him look—

  I shot up from the sofa then ran over to the windows. “Is that a hawk?” I asked even though I hadn’t seen anything other than Logan’s delicious body.

  He strolled over to stand next to me, moving like sex on a stick. Not that I noticed. I kept my gaze locked on the watery scene outside. “Where?” he asked.

  It took quite a feat of willpower not to peruse his body from close up. “Huh, it must have flown away. I don’t see it anymore.”

  “There used to be a bald eagle that would nest in that tree over there.” He pointed to an ancient oak, its sprawling limbs heavy with silvery Spanish moss. “I wonder if one of its descendants still lives around here. Perhaps that’s what you saw.”

  I watched the tree, searching for a bird that didn’t exist.

  After a long moment, Logan moved away from the windows. “If you don’t mind entertaining yourself, I have work to do.” He produced a laptop from one of his bags. “I need to find out what’s going on with the police in New York and with the virus at Global Tech.”

  I watched him for a moment. His entire focus was locked on the computer screen in front of him. His fingers flew across the keyboard. I was impressed. Not only did Superman leap off tall buildings with a single bound, but apparently the man of steel also moonlighted as a computer genius.

  Hours passed. Logan barely glanced in my direction. For a while I paced. Then I took a walk out to the dock and stared at the lake. The scenery was amazing. Sure, the small cabin looked as if a giant had used it for a stool with its sagging roofline. The white paint on the siding was peeling in a few places. A shutter hung at a cockeyed angle. Despite its dilapidated state I couldn’t deny that the place had an uncanny magical charm.

  From my vantage point on the dock, I had to squint to see a line of cabins on the other side of the lake. The only sound I heard was a chorus of crickets and the occasional call of a bird flying high above me.

  A fish jumped causing a loud splash a few feet from where I’d dipped my fingers in the water. As the sun bathed my face, I closed my eyes and let the solitude flow through me.

  This was better than my hot yoga classes.

  I breathed in. Out. In. Out.

  Bliss washed over me, making me one with my surroundings until a little voice in the back of my head whispered, “George hasn’t called.”

  He hasn’t.

  Why?

  George constantly checked his messages, even when we were dining out, he’d look at his phone every few minutes, so I knew he’d listened to my voice mail. He must have heard how nervous I’d sounded. If he cared for me, even just a little, wouldn’t he have returned my call?

  What if he couldn’t? What if the guards from Global Tech had gone to George in their search for me? Or worse, what if the police had gone to his office?

  I needed to find out what was going on, which meant I needed to try his phone again.

  I needed to make sure this mess I’d gotten myself into wasn’t destroying my marriage before it had even started. George would never forgive me if I was the cause of a dramatic scene for him in front of his colleagues.

  I’d never forgive myself if I ruined the chance to give my mother a better life.

  The solitude, which had been so peaceful a moment before, now pressed down on me like a stifling blanket. I was stuck here in the middle of nowhere, unable to stop the disaster in New York from unfolding.

  And what about my mother? What if Global Tech uses her to get to me?

  I couldn’t let that happen. My heart beat a panicked tattoo as my feet carried me back to the cabin.

  Logan looked up from his laptop when I flung open the door.

  “I can’t be here,” I told him. My hands gestured with a life of their own
as I paced the length of the room. “I need to be in New York where I can make sure nothing bad is happening to any of my friends or loved ones.”

  Logan punched a few more keys on his laptop before rising from where he’d been sitting on the denim sofa. He crossed the room with the caution of a lion tamer approaching an angry animal.

  He raised his hands in front of him. “I understand why you’re upset. I do.”

  I did a little sidestepping, not wanting to let him get near me. When he got too close, I couldn’t think. “What will keep the people who are hunting you and me from hurting the people we love?”

  “Going to your friends and family right now will only put them in the line of fire,” he answered, his voice steady, calm. “It’s important that you stay away.”

  “But what if the police contact my friends? What if they question them about me?”

  “They will. They will. But they can’t—”

  “This is a disaster.” My knees felt like they were about to give out. No wonder George hadn’t returned my call. He was too busy putting out fires at his job thanks to the police harassing him. The partners wouldn’t like that. He would hate it.

  I wanted to bury my face in my hands and cry. But I’d already done that and look what that accomplished.

  I grabbed my purse and dug out my phone. “I have to call him. I need to know what’s going on.”

  Logan closed his hand over mine, keeping me from punching any of the numbers on the phone’s touch screen. “You have to use the secure phone, remember?”

  I nodded. “Right. Where is it? I have to make several phone calls.”

  He pointed to the coffee table. The phone was sitting right where I’d left it. When I moved to fetch it, Logan stopped me.

  He framed my face with his large, warm hands. “Everything is going to be okay, Sam. I’m going to fix this. I’ll—” He paused. “I’ll make sure you have the best wedding in the world. I promise.”

  “And you always keep your promises,” I whispered.

  How we were standing—face to face, our bodies only inches apart—felt shockingly intimate.