And she loved them both.
Chapter Fifteen
LEANNE FOOLISHLY THOUGHT SHE WOULD ESCAPE the Harper shindig without facing any questions more difficult than Chase’s You okay? After helping with the cleanup, she’d started gathering the kids—funny that leaving with two kids who’d brought nothing with them required “gathering,” but it was true— and was about to say her good-byes and escape, when Nolie hooked her arm through hers.
“We haven’t had dessert yet. Ryan, would you help Chase serve, please? Leanne and I need to step outside for a moment.”
“Hey, if we’re talking sweets, I’d rather stay—” But she couldn’t wriggle free of Nolie’s grip, so she let herself be dragged out onto the front porch. Released—and cornered—she leaned against the railing and folded her arms over her chest. “Is this your way of telling me I need to watch my weight?”
“You want a piece of cake, honey, I’ll send the whole darn thing home with you. What’s up?”
“The stock market? TV ratings? My blood pressure?”
Nolie didn’t smile at her rotten attempt at humor, but that was okay, because neither did Leanne. She was all out of phony smiles and fake cheer and pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t. She just wasn’t sure she was ready to share yet.
“When I asked if Cole had to work late, you replied, ‘So he said.’ Does that mean he lied to you or brushed you off or what?”
“It means he said he had to work tonight.”
Nolie looked at her in the dim illumination from the porch light, and for the longest time she just looked back. Then she sighed and her whole body seemed to collapse, her shoulders rounding, her chin dropping. “I told him— I told him I loved him,” she mumbled.
“You what?”
“I woke up this morning, and he was lying there asleep and looking adorable and sweet and so damned sexy, and I-I just—I said it. ‘I love you, Cole’ ” She raised one limp hand to cover her eyes, as if she could block out the memory by blocking her vision, but it didn’t work. “The idiot wasn’t asleep. He just had his eyes closed. At least until I opened my mouth. He got this panicked look, like . . .”
“A deer caught in headlights?”
Leanne’s smile was shaky. “Trust you small-town Arkansas girls to know just the right words. Not that I’ve ever seen a deer caught in headlights, but, yeah, it would probably look exactly like Cole. Once he got over the initial shock, he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. He claimed he was running late for an early appointment and rushed me out the door so quickly I didn’t even have time to dress Danny.”
“Maybe he really did have an appointment.”
“Maybe. But he canceled lunch. No, wait, he didn’t cancel it. He asked the mayor’s secretary to cancel it for him. He was having lunch with him instead.”
“He’s a businessman, Leanne. I would imagine being friendly with the mayor can’t hurt, especially when you deal in money and dreams and trust.”
“You sound like Chase, so cool and rational. But you didn’t see that look in his eyes this morning. He’s gonna be like everyone else. He’s gonna break my heart.”
“Maybe not. Maybe he was just . . . surprised. A lot of men don’t deal with emotions. Maybe he just needs time. Don’t go looking for trouble, Leanne, or you might create it where there isn’t any.”
Leanne scowled. “It’s easy for you to give advice. You’ve got my brother following you around like a big ol’ lovesick puppy. I’ve got a guy who uses me for great sex and baby-sitting services and very well may not want anything more.”
“How great is the sex?”
The easy laughter bubbling up inside surprised Leanne, but she was happy to give in to it. Anything to make herself feel better, even if for only a moment.
Nolie came to lean against the railing beside her. “Do you really think . . .”
That seemed as far as she was willing to go, so Leanne replied anyway. “I think Chase has fallen head over heels for you, and I couldn’t be happier. I’ve got my brother back, and I’ve always wanted a sister. I’ll warn you, though, Wilsons come with responsibilities, like feeding me cake when I get dumped—again. And putting up with our parents on occasion. Though if you can handle the wicked witch, you’ll do fine with our folks.”
Nolie was quiet a long time—absorbing what Leanne had said about Chase falling. Finally she swayed to the side, gently bumping Leanne’s shoulder. “I don’t know about parents, but I’ll be happy to provide cake. Did I mention that the one they’re eating inside won a blue ribbon at the state fair a few years ago?”
“Mm-mm-mm. Welcome to the family, Nolie. Please may I have a piece before I take my guys home?”
Nolie pushed away from the railing and started toward the door. “I told you, I’ll give you the whole thing.”
And she did—every luscious leftover bite, packing it in a covered pan that she pressed into Leanne’s hands as she followed the boys on their way out. For a moment Leanne actually considered refusing it, then thought better of it. There weren’t many places she could go for a sweets fix in the middle of the night if it became necessary. Better to be safe than sorry.
The Miller mansion was dark, the driveway empty, when she parked across the street. Mumbling his thanks, Ryan started in that direction, but she grabbed him by the collar and stopped him short. “Where do you think you’re going, slick?”
“Home. I’ve got a key.”
“You’re too young to stay home alone at night.”
The look he gave her should have withered her to nothing. “I’m twelve.”
“See? Too young. C’mon.” Trading his shirt for a grip on his shoulder, she guided him ahead of her to her apartment door, with Danny skipping in front.
“This is stupid,” Ryan grumbled. “I’ve been takin’ care of myself ever since I was little. Jeez, it’s not even nine-thirty yet.”
“Humor me, child.” She unlocked the door and Danny ran up the stairs.
Shuffling his feet and still complaining, Ryan clomped up behind him. “Cole won’t know where I am.”
“He knows you were spending the evening with us. He’ll figure it out.” And when he did, would he call and say, “Send my kid home”? Or would he find the nerve to come over and face her?
She was betting on a phone call.
She got Danny ready for bed, who then nagged Ryan into reading him a half-dozen stories. When she went to check on them, she found them both asleep in the small bed. For a moment she watched them, thinking how Danny was designed from his genes out to be a little brother, not an only child, and how Ryan seemed designed to be a big brother, not a lonely only also. They could be a family—these two boys, Chase, and her.
Oh, yeah, right, and they could live happily ever after, too, couldn’t they? And the sun would always shine, bad times would be banished, and life would be perfect.
Sighing—whether at her wistfulness or cynicism, she didn’t know—she shut off the lamp, pulled the door shut, and was on her way back to the living room when the doorbell rang. She detoured for a look out her bedroom window and saw the Lexus parked in the Miller driveway. So he’d opted for the face-to-face. She hadn’t expected it.
Running her fingers through her hair, she hurried down the stairs and opened the door. Cole stood on the sidewalk, wearing gray trousers and a white shirt. The sleeves were rolled up, the tie around his neck loosened, and he looked as if he’d combed his hair with his fingers a time or three. He looked . . . troubled? Or just tired? If he’d really had an early appointment that morning, it had been a hell of a long workday for him.
She really wanted to believe he’d had that appointment.
“I believe you have my son.”
She leaned one shoulder against the jamb. “He fell asleep reading to Danny. He can spend the night if you’d rather not wake him.” You can spend the night, too, if you’d give the slightest hint you want to.
He copied her pose on the other side of the door. “How was
dinner?”
“Tolerable. Nolie’s mother-in-law is a bona-fide witch.”
“With warts on her nose and a pointy black hat?”
She gave him a chiding look. “That’s so stereotypical. Witches can pass for real human beings. Trust me on this. My mother’s one, too.” She considered inviting him in, and her heart rate increased a fair amount, so she went ahead. After that cake, she could use a cardiac workout. “Nolie baked a blue-ribbon-winning cake for dessert and sent the leftovers home with me. Would you like a slice?”
“No, thanks.” His cool blue gaze remained steady on her face. “But I’d like to make love to you.”
It was difficult to say which was stronger—the instantaneous arousal that streaked through her or the relief that threatened to buckle her knees. He wasn’t running away after her unfortunate wake-up this morning. It wasn’t as good as a declaration of love, but it meant something, right? He cared for her—he must, or he would have opted out of spending the night, wouldn’t he?
“Ooh, that’s better than cake anytime,” she murmured, taking his hand, then strolling up the stairs.
THE SCREAM RIPPED THROUGH THE QUIET NIGHT, jerking Cole out of a sound sleep. In the moment it took him to remember where he was and why, Leanne had already pulled out of his arms, grabbed a robe, and was on her way to the door. He pulled on his boxers as the second shriek split the air, then hustled across the short hall into Danny’s room. The bedside lamp was on, and Leanne was sitting on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around Ryan, stroking his hair and murmuring to him. Danny was sitting up, eyes wide and startled, his lower lip trembling, and Ryan was shaking like a leaf, but not crying. No matter how bad things got, the kid never cried.
And those nightmares must be pretty damn bad.
Damn it, he should have noticed there was no light under Danny’s door when he’d followed Leanne into her bedroom. How could she have known Ryan was afraid of the dark? He sure as hell wouldn’t have told her.
But no, Cole had been too focused on his own needs. The kid really needed a better parent—something he’d often thought, but now was beginning to believe.
Squeezing into a space on the bed, Cole ruffled Danny’s hair and gave him a reassuring wink, then laid his hand on Ryan’s back. “You okay, son?” he asked gruffly.
The boy’s shudders were steadily lessening. Leanne’s arms were a comfortable place to be, and must seem doubly so for a kid who’d had so little mothering in his life. His breathing slowed, and those frantic little panicked sounds stopped completely. In another minute, embarrassment would set in, and he would shrug away their concern as if he hadn’t just scared them half to death.
Sure enough, in thirty seconds or so, he pulled out of Leanne’s embrace, his face burning red, stared at the floor, and muttered, “I wanna go home.”
“Okay. Let me get dressed.” It was as good an excuse as any to walk away from Leanne and spend the rest of the night alone. Might as well start getting used to that again, because it wouldn’t be long before Bethlehem was just a memory.
He dressed quickly, then returned to Danny’s room. Leanne was standing beside the bed now, her hair mussed, her eyes dark with concern. “Cole—”
He brushed a kiss to her forehead, then gestured for Ryan to lead the way. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“But—”
Pretending he hadn’t heard her, he hurried Ryan down the hall and the stairs and out the door. Even then, though, he didn’t feel safe. He suspected he wouldn’t until he’d put a few thousand miles between himself and Bethlehem . . . and Leanne.
CHASE DIDN’T GO IN TO THE STORE ON SATURDAY, not when Trey Grayson would be there to help out. Instead, he kissed Nolie good-bye, then walked to his house. In the past week, he’d spent little time there, mostly just showering and changing clothes, but he didn’t want to hang out at Nolie’s house when she wasn’t home.
After a shower, he changed into clean jeans, microwaved a frozen breakfast, then went out onto the porch. Upon eating the last bite, he contemplated spending the rest of the day in the hammock—not an appealing idea. He could go into town and let Leanne give him the grand tour of her store, or drive by the golf course on the north side of town where his father had spent every Saturday morning Chase could recall, weather permitting. If the old man’s habits held true, Chase could use the time to see his mother. Not that he particularly wanted to. It just seemed that maybe he should.
But it wasn’t such a strong feeling that it actually moved him out of the hammock. No, it took a familiar rental car coming up the hill to do that. The Harpers knew the store hours as well as he did, so why were they going to Nolie’s house when they knew she wasn’t there?
The car didn’t park in front of the other cabin, though, but came on down toward his house. And it wasn’t both Harpers. It was Marlene. He’d seen enough of her in the past three days to last a lifetime. Hell, she even managed to make the prospect of visiting his mother more appealing. Too bad he’d delayed.
He stood up as she parked out front, then climbed out of the car. Though the wind was blowing out of the west, her gray-streaked blond hair didn’t so much as flutter, no doubt shellacked into place. Or maybe Marlene could intimidate even inanimate objects. She sure as hell intimidated him.
Wishing he’d put on a shirt and shoes, he waited at the top of the steps. “Mrs. Harper.”
She stopped at the bottom of the steps and gazed up at him. Sheer height should have given him some sort of psychological advantage, but she didn’t seem to feel the slightest bit disadvantaged.
“Nolie’s not here.”
“I wouldn’t have come if she was. Some conversations are better had in private.” She said the words with a smile that didn’t touch her eyes and couldn’t camouflage their ominous sound.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“I understand you were a lawyer.” She waited for his nod. “Why aren’t you practicing law now?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Don’t want to . . . or can’t?”
Cold inside, he sat down on the step. He had a really bad feeling in his gut about this and, from the start of his legal career, he’d learned to always trust his gut feelings. He wanted to order her off the property, go inside and lock the door, or tell her to go to hell . . . but he couldn’t do any of that. He also couldn’t tell a lie that could come back to haunt him—or, worse, Nolie—so he said nothing at all.
“I’m not real knowledgeable about the law, but it’s my understanding that once you’ve been disbarred, you can’t practice. Isn’t that right? So what you want has nothing to do with it.” Her voice softened. “And you have been disbarred, haven’t you? For embezzling $1.1 million in client money. And you went to prison. And Nolie doesn’t have a clue.”
Sweat trickled down his spine, and his throat grew tight, making his voice hoarse, choked. “How did you learn that?”
“I hired a private detective—one of those that specializes in checking out cheating spouses and lovers. The point is, Nolie doesn’t know, does she?”
He didn’t bother confirming what she already knew, so instead he lied. “I plan to tell her.” Sure, he did. He just hadn’t decided when would be the best time—at work, when she was trying to earn a living to support her child, or in the evening, when they sat at the dinner table with Micahlyn, like some sort of little family, or how about in the middle of the night, when they’d just made love and she was feeling lazy and lucky and satisfied?
“Oh, it’s too late for that. You should have told her before you weaseled your way into her life and her bed, before she became infatuated with you, before Mikey came to care for you.” Her features hardened. “You’ve lied to her from the moment you met. You’ve betrayed her trust, used her, and made a fool of her. Deep inside she already suspects it. Good-looking lawyers from the city—even ones who are ex-cons—don’t fall for plain, plump girls like Nolie. She knows that. We all know it. But having to face it will break her h
eart.”
He wanted to protest that he hadn’t lied to Nolie. He just hadn’t told her everything. But that wasn’t much, if any, better than outright lying. But in the beginning he’d had no reason to tell her, and by the time he had found one, as Marlene said, it had been too late. He’d had something that never should have been his, and damned if he’d been unselfish enough to risk losing it.
Now he would, and Marlene would like nothing better than being the one taking it all away from him.
He studied her—the age lines around her eyes, the stress lines around her mouth. She was probably eight or ten years younger than his mother, but she looked that much older. He agreed that fate hadn’t been kind to her, but just because she was unhappy, did that mean everyone in her sphere of influence had to be the same?
“Tell me something, Mrs. Harper. Are you really this selfish?”
Her face flamed red, suggesting that someone else— Obie?—had made the same comment. Embarrassment didn’t temper the haughtiness of her voice, though. “Maybe my actions appear selfish to you, but only because they conflict with your own selfish desires. I just want what’s best for my granddaughter.”
“You don’t get to decide what’s best for Micahlyn. That’s her mother’s right.”
“It should be. But when Nolie’s clearly not considering Mikey’s welfare, someone has to step in. Obie and I are the only other family Mikey has. That makes it our responsibility.”
“How is Nolie not considering Micahlyn’s welfare?”
Folding her arms over her chest, she started tapping one foot. “She never should have uprooted that child from the only home she’d ever known and brought her here. She never should have taken her away from her only family. If Nolie wasn’t happy living with us, we could have worked things out. We could have converted the garage into an apartment for her, or moved Jeff’s old trailer out back. We could have compromised.”
“And how do you define compromise, Mrs. Harper? You get everything you want, and Nolie learns to live with it?”
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