“What? Why?” She followed him to the guest room, hating herself for morphing into the kind of woman who got all clingy when a man was trying to leave. But she deserved to know just what in the heck was going on.
He pulled open the dresser drawers and piled his new pants and shirts on the bed.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m getting my things.”
“Why?”
He turned to her, his eyes full of something she’d never seen in his expression before. Disgust? Blame? Anger?
“I had a major breakthrough while I was at Caroline’s Diner with my brother.”
That should have been a good thing, but why was he so...cold?
“A big chunk of my memory came flooding back almost all at once, and I finally remembered the real reason I came to Brighton Valley in the first place.” He scanned the room, his gaze landing on the clothes he’d placed on the bed, then he raked his hand through his hair. “Dammit, I don’t even have a freakin’ suitcase.”
“I can get you a bag—if you need it.” She still didn’t understand why he wanted to leave.
“I probably should have just left all of this here, anyway. It’s not like I’m going to need any ranch clothes any time soon. Unlike you, who’ll apparently get everything your scheming heart had hoped for.”
What was he talking about?
And just who did he think he was talking to?
“Slow down, Joe. What in the world is going on?”
He tore his gaze from the folded clothing, from the bed where they’d so recently made love and zeroed in on her. “I’m talking about what you did to Dave. How you convinced the poor guy to leave everything to you. And then you dumped him, right when he needed you most.”
“What?” Chloe crossed her arms. “I didn’t convince Dave of anything.”
“Right. Well, that’s not how he figured it. He was crazy in love with you, and you broke his heart. Hell, the truth of the matter is, you broke him.”
Chloe closed her eyes, Joe’s words echoing the guilt that she felt since learning about Dave’s death. For the briefest of moments she wanted to turn away in shame, but she shook off the misplaced feelings.
“Listen, Joe. It wasn’t like that with me and Dave. We never had anything together. We certainly never had...” She waved her hand between the two of their bodies. “We never had this.”
“This?” Joe gazed at her, his expression accusing her all over again.
But she held firm. Dave hadn’t been emotionally stable, and she hadn’t done anything wrong.
“What we had wasn’t...” Joe’s voice trailed off, and his expression softened. Then he sat on the bed, shoulders slumped.
The nurse in her was ready to forgive him for lashing out at her when his memories still had to be a jumbled up mess. But the woman who’d given him her heart was crushed.
“What we had?” she asked.
“Hell, I don’t know. Had. Have. I won’t deny that I fell for you, but I can’t very well stay out here with you knowing now what I should have known all along.”
“And what’s that, Joe? What do you know? Please clue me in, because you seem to suddenly have all the answers, and I can’t even begin to understand why you’re so angry—especially at me.”
“I don’t know. Maybe because Dave was one of my men—and a buddy. And I knew how damn much he loved you, idolized you. And maybe because I crossed a code of honor between friends.”
“Dave only thought he was in love with me. He was upset over his mom’s illness and death and he latched on to me and mistook the friendship I offered him. But I assure you, it was only friendship on my side. I never lied to him or misled him. In fact, I even sent him a letter explaining as clearly as I could that nothing romantic would ever happen between us.”
“Yeah.” Joe leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees and held his head as if to shake loose his thoughts—or maybe to hold them still. “I saw what that letter did to his psyche. Hell, what it did to his whole career. Crap, what it did to my whole career. Your so-called ‘clear explanation’ caused him to lose it when we were under attack.” He looked up, caught her gaze. “You know my nightmare?”
Chloe said nothing, not wanting to be reminded of their passionate lovemaking that had followed that same frightening dream. Not when he’d just practically accused her of killing Dave herself.
“It all came back to me. Before running into the gunfire, Dave told me he couldn’t go on without you. So, yes, I’m familiar with that carefully worded letter you sent him.”
She felt compelled to ease closer, to sit next to him on the bed, but her wounded pride wouldn’t have been able to recover if he got up or moved away. So she stood firm and tried to reason with him. “If you remember Dave’s words and his recklessness, then surely you must know how sensitive he was. How he didn’t handle things very well. I’m sorry that he’s dead, and I’m sorry that your knee and your career are blown. But those were a result of Dave’s actions, not mine.”
He blew out a ragged breath, but he held his thoughts at bay.
“Was I supposed to lie to him and let him think there was something between us? Do you think I should have promised to be waiting for him when he came home from war?”
Joe gazed up at her, his eyes filled with accusation. “But you were waiting for him. You even told me that you were taking care of the place for him. Or maybe you were just taking care of your own investment, banking on Dave’s fragile mental state to secure you a ranch of your own.”
He couldn’t have shocked her more, hurt her more, if he’d struck her with his fist.
“What are you talking about?” she asked. “I’ve wasted months of my life holding this place together because I promised his mom, not him, that I would. How would his death in any way benefit me?”
“Because Dave signed a battlefield will right before he died leaving the entire ranch to you.”
Chloe almost sunk to the floor. Her hand, which trembled with indignation only seconds ago, flew to her mouth, which was incapable of speech anyway.
Joe’s expression held no warmth, no familiarity. “That’s why I came to Brighton Valley. To deliver my buddy’s letter and to see for myself just what kind of woman would take a poor sucker like him for everything he had.”
“Are you kidding me? I can’t believe that you think me capable of that. How could I...? How could you, especially after we...?” She didn’t know what she was trying to say, but she was too stunned to continue.
“If my memory had been intact, nothing would’ve happened two nights ago.”
Now even the compassionate nurse in her let sympathy and understanding go by the wayside. His accusations were so far-fetched. But still, she could only handle so much confrontation, and it didn’t look like there was anything she could say to change his mind. And right this minute, her pride didn’t want her to even try. So she stayed silent, fuming with indignation.
“I’ll be staying at my brother’s house for a while, at least until I can wrap my head around everything.” He got to his feet and reached for the folded clothes. “But don’t worry. I won’t interfere with the probate or bother you anymore.”
And with his parting shot striking her heart dead center, cracking it right in two, he walked out of the room, out of the house and out of her life.
She wasn’t sure how long she continued to stand in the bedroom that had once held sweet memories of their lovemaking. She was too busy reeling from his hurtful words, from his false accusations, to form a solid game plan.
Yet in spite of her pain and disappointment, she felt a sense of peace, too. When Joe had blamed her for causing Dave’s depression and, ultimately, his death—something for which she’d also blamed herself—she’d stood up to those charges, rejecting them and defending herself. And by doi
ng so, she was able to release the guilt that had once tormented her and accept the truth.
Dave had been devastated by the loss of his mother and by his decision to join the Marines when he should have been home trying to mend his relationship with his father. He’d also felt somehow to blame for his dad’s heart attack—or at least for the estrangement that had shortened what little time on earth they’d had together.
His guilt and conflicting duty to family and country, as well as the battlefield itself, must have taken a toll on him, and Chloe refused to accept responsibility for his death.
But that didn’t mean she wasn’t crushed by Joe’s other allegations, by his lack of faith and trust in her.
It took every ounce of strength she possessed to not fall onto the bed, curl up into a ball and cry her eyes out. But once he was long gone, she gradually moved from the disbelief and bargaining stage to anger.
How dare he accuse her of setting her designs on Dave or on this ranch?
She might not like confrontations, but she wasn’t about to take this lying down. So she went to the den, plopped down in the desk chair and picked up the phone. Teresa’s attorney hadn’t returned her call yet, but she wasn’t going to wait for him to find time to get back to her. If she had to track him down at his home or in the courthouse, she’d do it.
Luckily, Mr. McDougall’s secretary said he was in the office and transferred her call right away.
“Hello, Ms. Dawson. I got your message, but things have been pretty hectic this morning. What can I do for you?”
She explained about Dave’s death and about requesting the documents from the San Diego coroner’s office.
“Okay. As soon as I get that report, we can get the ball rolling and settle the estate.”
“That leads me to another issue, Mr. McDougall.” Chloe didn’t know how to word her question without sounding like the gold digger Joe had accused her of being. But there was no other way to get the answer she needed. “What exactly is going to happen to the estate?”
“Did Dave have a will?” the attorney asked. “I never made one for him.”
Chloe told him about the handwritten will he’d made in Afghanistan, which may have listed her as the heir. “But I don’t know if it’s legal. Actually, I don’t even know if it exists. I haven’t seen it.”
“Well, if he did have one—and you can find it—probate will go more smoothly. From what I remember, the Cummings family didn’t have any other relatives or people who could lay claim to the ranch. So if the will exists—and if it’s legit—then you’d be the owner of the Rocking C.”
Great. Chloe didn’t want the burden or the guilt that would come along with that sort of unexpected inheritance.
“On a side note,” the attorney said, “I do have a copy of Dave’s life insurance policy—the one he took out before his last deployment. It names Joseph Wilcox as the beneficiary.”
If Chloe hadn’t already been seated in the old desk chair, she would have fallen to the floor. “Joe Wilcox is the beneficiary?”
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“Not as well as I thought I did. But I know where you can find him.” Chloe provided the attorney with Rick Martinez’s contact information.
They made an appointment to meet in person, then ended the call.
Chloe would sure like to see the look on Joe’s face when he learned that Chloe wasn’t the only person who benefitted from Dave’s death. It would serve him right to have to eat his words.
She supposed that was cruel to think something like that at a time like this. But she was still furious with Joe for breaking her heart and crushing her dreams. And she was also angry at Dave for putting her in this situation to start with.
She’d never asked for any of this.
Yet, here she sat.
Out the window, she spotted a squad car pulling into the drive. So she headed for the front door, just as Sheriff Hollister knocked.
The sheriff stood on the porch, holding two green canvas duffel bags, both of which appeared to be military issued.
“Afternoon, Miss Dawson. The clerk over at the Night Owl called us and let us know that they found these bags in the room Joe had checked into. Apparently, they were wedged under the bed. My deputy must have missed them in his initial search of the room.”
“Why are there two?”
“One appears to be Joe’s. The other is probably Dave’s. Is Joe here?”
“Uh, no. He’s at his brother’s right now.” Chloe should probably tell Sheriff Hollister that Joe had moved out, but she wasn’t ready to explain why or what had happened between them.
“Should I bring them inside for you?”
No. She didn’t want anything more to do with Joe, Dave or their stuff.
“Just leave them on the porch,” she said. “I’ll make sure that Joe gets them.”
Chapter Twelve
Chloe didn’t want to hold on to those duffel bags any longer than she had to. So after the sheriff left, she lugged them to Ol’ Greenie, one at a time, then heaved them into the back.
After returning to the house to get her purse and to lock up, she climbed into the truck and drove to Rick’s veterinary clinic since she had no idea where he lived.
But when she pulled into the parking lot, which was nearly empty, she spotted Rick’s truck.
Apparently, this was where Joe had holed up. Well, she’d just leave the bags with him and be done with it.
Better yet, she’d tell him he could just come outside and get the fool things himself. So she headed for the entrance to the clinic and stepped into the waiting room.
The moment Joe spotted her, he got to his feet. She felt like lighting into him, but she didn’t see the use. “Sheriff Hollister stopped by with two duffel bags. I told him that I’d give them to you. They’re in the back of the pickup.”
His expression softened a bit. “Listen, Chloe. I’m sorry if I might have come across a little harsh.”
She stiffened. “A little harsh? You were a complete jerk.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to jump you the moment I entered the house. It just happened. All the memories and bottled emotions erupted. And I should have at least thanked you for what you did for me. You didn’t deserve to get reamed. I just need some time to think things through.”
“Take all the time you want,” she said. “But first come outside and get those duffel bags.”
Before either of them could make a move, her cell phone rang. She glanced at the display. The Sheltering Arms?
“Excuse me. I need to take this.”
When she answered, Merrilee said, “Chloe, I’m sorry to bother you, but I thought you’d want to know.”
Her heart dropped to the pit of her tummy. Could this day get any worse? “What’s wrong?”
“Ethel took a turn for the worse, so I called 9-1-1. Paramedics took her to the Brighton Valley Medical Center.”
“Is she okay?”
“No, she’s had a complication.”
Chloe knew what her friend was going to say before she even said a word. Still, she asked, “What happened?”
“She was diagnosed with pneumonia and given an injection of penicillin. I’m afraid she had a serious allergic reaction, so they sent her to ICU.”
“I’ll head over to the hospital now. I’m going to ask the nursing staff to see if her allergy was noted in her chart. I bet it wasn’t.”
“What’ll you do if you’re right?”
Chloe left Joe standing in his brother’s waiting room and headed for the door. “After I talk to Dr. Nielson at the hospital and check on Ethel, I’m going to the Sheltering Arms. It’s time I took Sam’s advice.”
“What’d he say?”
“Sometimes you gotta stand up fo
r what’s right.”
“What are you going to do? You don’t even work here any longer.”
“I don’t care. If Sarah lied to me about Ethel’s allergy being noted in her chart, or if she assumed that it was and didn’t double-check to make sure, I’m going to blow the whistle on her, as well as the entire administration for not doing something about my initial complaint sooner.”
“I was afraid of losing my job before,” Merrilee said. “But I’m not going to stand by and let Sarah risk another patient’s life. I’ll back you up any way I can.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know if there’s anything you can do to help.”
Chloe was unlocking the driver’s door, sliding behind the wheel and turning on Ol’ Greenie’s ignition before she noticed that Joe had followed her outside.
He might want to talk, but she’d have to deal with him later. In fact, she probably ought to thank him for pumping her full of courage and spunk. Because right now, the normally mild-mannered, former nurse’s aide who’d avoided confrontations at all costs was cocked and loaded for bear.
* * *
After Chloe drove away, Joe stood in the parking lot, trying to make sense of it all.
He was still standing there, staring in the direction Ol’ Greenie had gone, when Rick came out of the clinic. If his brother noticed anything weird about the way Joe was gaping or at the confusion that had to be splashed on his face, he didn’t say anything.
“I’m finished here,” Rick said. “Let’s go home.”
“Okay.” Joe nodded at the duffel bags resting on the ground. “Let’s put these in the back of your truck.”
Minutes later, Rick pulled into the drive of a white, two-story house on Chinaberry Lane. After grabbing both bags and the sack of Joe’s clothes, they entered the front door.
“Honey,” Rick called out, “I’m home.”
The words had a nice ring to them, and Joe was happy for his brother.
When a beautiful blonde with an obvious baby bump entered the living room with a warm and welcoming smile, Joe reached out his hand in greeting.
Harlequin Special Edition November 2014 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Weaver Christmas GiftThe Soldier's Holiday HomecomingSanta's Playbook Page 37