Leanne answered the door, greeted them both fondly, then looked past them to the sidewalk. “Where’s Chase?”
“He . . . uh, he’s busy.”
Dark eyes so like his fixed on her face for a long moment, then Leanne’s features shifted to sympathy. “Oh, honey . . . tell me I’m wrong.”
Smiling bleakly, Nolie shook her head.
“What happened?”
“Nothing, really,” Nolie replied with a warning glance at Micahlyn. “We’re anxious to see this great apartment of yours. Lead the way.”
Though the stairs didn’t thrill her—think of the exercise—Nolie loved the compact spaces, the colors, the whimsy, everything about the place. It was a wonderful idea, living above her business, she thought, and told Leanne so as they ended the tour back in the kitchen. Micahlyn had remained in Danny’s room, with the boy offering to show her all his toys.
“You’ve got a store of your own,” Leanne pointed out.
“Yeah, but living above the feed store outside town isn’t nearly as appealing as living above Small Wonders right on the town square. I’d fall asleep to the fragrant aroma of horse feed every night and probably wake up chewing on my pillow.”
Leanne smiled faintly, glanced toward the hall, then said, “Okay. Tell Auntie Leanne what happened with my idiot brother. Do I need to go beat him up? I’ve done it a time or two in the past, you know.”
“I don’t think it’ll help. He just likes . . . a different kind of woman. It’s not his fault I’m too tall, too plump, too red-haired, too plain.” She smiled hard as the damn tears started to gather again. She wasn’t going to cry, not again, not with witnesses.
“You’re none of those things,” Leanne declared, “and I can’t believe Chase said you were. A blind man could see that he was crazy about you!”
“Stir crazy, maybe. He was hiding out there at the cabin, never seeing anyone but Micahlyn and me, and he was bored and—and needy, and I—I was there. Food, companionship, and sex, all a two-minute stroll away. Who could blame him for taking advantage of such a convenience?”
Though to be strictly truthful, he could have found any number of women in Howland while he was still in hiding outside Bethlehem. And his self-imposed exile had ended the night before he’d made love to her for the first time, so he could have found any number of women in Bethlehem, as well.
Minor details. The bottom line was, she’d fallen in love . . . and he hadn’t.
Leanne gave the spaghetti sauce a stir, put a loaf of buttered bread in the oven, then fisted her hands on her hips. Her eyes were flashing with anger, and there was an icy stillness about her. “He called you a convenience?”
“I— He didn’t—” Heat flushed Nolie’s face, and she covered it with her hands. “I shouldn’t even be talking to you. You’re his sister.”
“And I’m your friend, and I’ll make him damned sorry.”
“Please don’t. He feels badly enough about this. He didn’t mean to hurt me.”
“He called you a convenience and didn’t think you’d be hurt? He’s not stupid . . . though he is an idiot. Oh, Nolie . . . I’m so sorry.”
Leanne came across the room, arms open, and Nolie took comfort in her embrace, even letting a few tears slide free before she willed them to stop. When she finally straightened, she sniffled, dried her cheeks, then grasped the first excuse to change the subject. “There seem to be more place settings than we have people. Does that mean the Jackson boys are coming?”
“Yes, ma’am. I so rarely cook, I like to take care of all my dinner paybacks at once.”
“Is everything okay with you two?”
Raising her brows, Leanne gave an exaggerated shrug. “It seems to be. We’re still spending all of our nights together. I haven’t said the L word again, and he hasn’t gotten that deer-in-headlights look again. So I guess we’re fine.”
Except for the facts that she’d like to say the L word again and she would really like to hear Cole say it back. It wasn’t exactly Nolie’s definition of fine, but it beat her own situation. At least Cole was still coming around.
The ring of the doorbell interrupted her thoughts and brought a light to Leanne’s eyes. “If the timer goes off, take the bread out of the oven, would you?”
Nolie nodded, then turned to survey the living room. The wicker table was set for four, with a centerpiece of fresh flowers and a lovely floral cloth draped over a solid skirt of midnight blue. A card table with three settings was situated in the middle of the room, its tablecloth vinyl for easy cleanup.
She deliberately removed one place setting from the wicker table, sliding the dishes into a corner on the kitchen cabinet as voices became audible in the hall.
Dinner was simple—spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread, plus tiramisu for dessert—and as relaxing as it could be with three kids in attendance . . . and no Chase. Nolie assumed Leanne had filled Cole in downstairs, because he didn’t mention Chase’s absence. He was charming and attentive, almost gentle in his behavior and conversation.
Leanne was a lucky woman.
The evening was a badly needed balm to Nolie’s spirit. The only interruption came when the meal was over, the dishes already taken to the kitchen, and the phone rang. Leanne took the call in the kitchen, then with a tight smile, picked up her keys from the counter. “I’ve got to run downstairs for a minute. I’ll be right back.” Directing her attention to the kids, she raised her voice. “Maybe while I’m gone, the dish fairies will guide the children into the kitchen and show them how to clean up.”
“I wanna see the fairies,” Danny piped up as Micahlyn chimed in, “Me, too.”
Ryan snorted. “Dish fairies, my as—” At a sharp look from his father, he broke off, then rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you just say, ‘Ryan, it’s your turn to do the dishes’?”
“Ryan, it’s your turn to do the dishes,” Cole parroted.
Nolie watched Leanne leave and the kids troop into the kitchen, then fiddled with her napkin. She’d gotten so comfortable with Chase in the past weeks that she’d forgotten how tongue-tied she could be around a handsome man. At that moment she couldn’t think of a thing to say to Cole, other than the usual, How’s business? and how boring was that?
Then she remembered the check in her purse. Business in general? Yes, boring. Business involving her thirty-some-thousand dollars? Not boring at all.
“I read the stuff you sent—the investment stuff for Micahlyn’s college money.” Read it and didn’t understand a word. “It sounded good to me, so . . .” She took the check from her wallet and slid it across the table.
He looked at it without touching it. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
She smiled faintly. “I’ve never heard of an investment counselor trying to talk someone out of an investment.”
“I’m not. It’s just . . . well, the market’s pretty volatile, and as a general rule of thumb, you shouldn’t invest anything you can’t afford to lose.”
“That’s the point of diversifying, isn’t it?” She knew that much, though if asked to explain the practice, she would have to fall back on a saying more familiar to a farm girl: Don’t put all your eggs in the same basket.
“Yes, of course, but . . .”
“It’s not everything,” she said patiently. “That money’s for Micahlyn. I have a little to fall back on if we have to.” She wasn’t rich by any means, but if the feed-store market dried up tomorrow, they wouldn’t go hungry while she looked for another job.
“Okay,” he said slowly, picking up the check. He folded it precisely in half, then slid it into his pocket. “I’ll bring the paperwork by the store tomorrow.”
When Leanne returned, they talked for a while in the living room. Before long, Micahlyn crawled up on the love seat with Nolie and dozed off. Catching herself swallowing her own yawn, Nolie smiled apologetically. “It’s been a long day. We need to head home.”
“I’m awfully glad you came,” Leanne said.
�
�Me, too.” Nolie stood up, then gazed at Micahlyn, now stretched out the entire length of the love seat. “Have you ever noticed how much bigger and heavier they get when they’re asleep and have to be carried?”
“That’s why my child walks—always,” Leanne replied. “Carrying him would give me a hernia.”
“I’ll get her,” Cole said. Before Nolie could protest, he scooped Micahlyn into his arms, then started toward the door.
Nolie turned to thank Leanne for dinner and found her watching Cole with her heart in her eyes. When she realized Nolie was watching her, she laughed, embarrassed. “Okay, so I’m a sucker for a big strong man who’s tender with kids,” she murmured. “What can I say?”
“No excuses needed. So am I.” She’d been married to one such man, and had fallen in love with another, or so she’d thought. Too bad she’d been wrong about Chase.
While Ryan stayed behind with Danny, Nolie and Leanne followed Cole downstairs and outside into the warm evening. Her car was parked around the corner, and as they strolled in that direction, the door to Small Wonders opened . . . and Chase stepped out. He stopped abruptly, a folder in his hands, and stared at them.
For one painful moment, Nolie stared back. Then she forced herself to drag her gaze away and smile for Leanne. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Thanks for coming.”
Leanne hugged her once more, then Nolie caught up with Cole. She wasn’t sure, but behind them, she thought she heard the distinctive sound of a hand smacking against a solid arm. Do I need to go beat him up? Leanne had asked.
Nolie guessed some things were just too much for a sister to resist.
Chapter Seventeen
THE PAIN CHASE WAS FEELING HAD NOTHING to do with the punch Leanne had given him.
Nolie had looked at him as if he were a T stranger.
No, that wasn’t true. She’d looked at him as if he were someone she would rather never see again. Not the man she loved. Not the man who was trying really hard to make things right.
Of course, she didn’t know anything about that.
Leanne hit him again. “You used her because she was convenient ? What the hell kind of thing is that to tell a woman?”
“A lie,” he murmured, staring after Nolie. When she’d driven out of sight and Jackson had returned, he refocused on his sister. “Not now, okay? I can’t handle . . . Thanks for letting me use your computer, though you could have warned me she was upstairs.”
“If I’d mentioned her at all when you came, I would have had to hurt you bad. And what would you have done if I’d told you? Hide like the coward you are?”
He couldn’t find the energy to be insulted by her question. Besides, he was a coward. He’d taken the easy way out of every problem that came along. But not anymore.
“Thanks,” he said again, then moved around her and started toward his truck.
“Chase!” Leanne sounded as if she were on the verge of stamping her foot in a temper. “Why did you hurt her like that?”
He gazed back at her. “Ask her mother-in-law. She’ll be happy to tell you.”
Then he climbed into his truck and drove away. He still had plans to make and arguments to prepare.
The most important arguments of his life.
NOLIE WAS MAKING CHANGE FOR A CUSTOMER Wednesday afternoon when Chase walked in the door. Stunned by his appearance, she pressed the money she held into the customer’s hand, murmured, “You’re welcome,” then stared down as he approached.
The older gentleman she’d waited on looked from the money to her to Chase, then back again. “Now look here, missy, the way it goes is I give you this money and you put it in the cash register and say, ‘Thank you. Come again.’ You can’t give this stuff to me for free, else you’d be closing your doors before long, and for good this time.”
“Wh-what?” Nolie asked blankly.
“Aw, hell.” The man came around the counter, nudged her aside, and opened the cash register, dividing the bills and coins into their proper spaces. “ ‘Thank you, Stu.’ ‘Why, you’re welcome, missy.’ ‘Come back and see us sometime.’ ‘I surely will.’ ” With a harrumph, he closed the register drawer, picked up his bag, and left.
She was only vaguely aware of his leaving, and all too aware that she was alone in the store now with Chase.
Chase, who didn’t want her.
Abruptly, she turned away from the register, intending to . . . what? Hide in the storeroom? There was no lock on the door. He would follow. Instead, she made a wide sweep around him and began straightening a shelf that didn’t need it.
“Nolie—”
She picked up a bottle of plant fertilizer and moved it to its proper shelf across the aisle. “Take whatever you need and go.”
“You can’t give stuff to me for free, else you’d be closing—”
She fixed a fierce stare on him, angry beyond words that he could come in teasing, and his words abruptly stopped. After a moment, he made an awkward gesture. “I’m not here to buy anything.”
“Good. Get out.”
“I can’t do that. Not yet.”
His answer annoyed her and made her knock over a display of insecticides. She straightened every last box, then glared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d been in prison?”
A tinge of red crept into his cheeks. “Because I was ashamed . . . and afraid.”
“Of what?”
“That you would believe I was guilty.”
“So you didn’t even give me a chance.”
He came a few steps closer. Clutched in one hand was the same folder he’d been carrying last night outside Small Wonders. She wondered what it was, and why he’d come to torment her, and why she couldn’t be tiny and delicate and black-haired and exactly what he wanted.
“Okay,” he said softly. “Here’s your chance. Do you believe I stole that money?”
“Does it matter?” Her own voice was petulant, and she didn’t care. He had a lot of nerve, after the things he’d said to her Sunday, to come here wanting her to prove her trust in him.
“It matters like hell to me.”
She studied him a moment, then returned to cleaning the shelves, her movements less frantic. “No,” she said at last. “I don’t believe you’re guilty.”
Of some things, at least.
“Why?”
Discovering a sudden need for every box on the shelf to line up in perfect order, she focused on that for a moment. Of course, it didn’t make him forget his question . . . or keep his distance. He came even closer.
“Why do you believe that? My wife didn’t. My friends didn’t. My firm didn’t. The jury damn sure didn’t. Why would you?”
Wishing for a customer who would require her attention, she gazed out the plate-glass window, but the only cars in the parking lot were theirs, and not one of those whizzing past on the highway showed any intention of turning in. “Clearly you were set up.”
“What makes you think so?”
She didn’t want to talk about this—didn’t want to talk to him at all. But he was there and not planning to leave without an answer, so the sooner she gave it, the sooner he would go.
With a great sigh, she turned back to him. “Fiona was having an affair with Darren Kennedy, wasn’t she?”
He nodded.
“She filed for divorce as soon as you were arrested, and you let her have virtually everything, which was an awful lot, granted, but there was a legitimate source for all of it. Not even so much as a dime could have come from the $1.1 million. As soon as the divorce was settled, she married Darren Kennedy, who happened to have been the one to discover the missing money in the first place, along with every bit of evidence that pointed to you. And the money was never found. And”—the most important part—“I know you.”
“Fiona and Darren . . . why? I would have given her a divorce if she’d asked.”
Most important to her, at least. “Would you also have given her everything you owned except the money you needed to
pay your lawyer? If she had come to you and said, ‘I’m having an affair with the guy you work with and I want a divorce so I can marry him,’ would you have said, ‘Sure, honey, and while you’re at it, here, come out of the marriage a rich woman and leave me broke’?”
“Probably not,” he murmured.
“This way, you were preoccupied. You already had one battle to fight—to stay out of prison—so you didn’t fight her. Plus they got that extra million dollars.”
His gaze darkened and his mouth flattened in a thin line. “It seems I have a history of turning away from the wrong fights.”
He looked so bleak that she wanted to go to him, wrap her arms around him, and tell him it wasn’t true. He’d been facing the ruin of his career and reputation and the loss of his freedom. That had required all his attention.
But she couldn’t go to him or wrap her arms around him, and because of that, all she wanted was for him to go. He’d made the decision to cut her out of his life, and as long as she was living with it, so should he.
“Look, I’m really not up to this,” she said, needlessly rearranging a shelf. “If you would please just leave . . .”
“I can’t. They’re here.”
The sound of a slamming car door drew her attention outside, where Obie was circling his rental to open Marlene’s door for her. “Hell,” she muttered. “What are they doing here, and where the hell is my daughter?”
“I asked them to come, and to drop off Micahlyn at day care on the way.”
“You what?”
“You believed in me regarding the embezzlement charge. Trust me on this, too.” He reached out as if to cup his palm to her cheek, then caught himself and let his hand fall. “Please, Nolie.”
The annoying thing was, she couldn’t refuse even if she wanted to. Unlike his feelings for her—whatever they were—she couldn’t turn her trust on and off to suit her needs. She did trust him. Period.
The bell rang in warning as the Harpers came in, and Chase’s first thought was surprise that Nolie had finally gotten it fixed. He hadn’t heard it ring when he’d come inside, but then, he’d had more important things on his mind. Like the rest of his life.
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