A Long Way from Home (The Caldwells of Rebel Creek Book 1)

by Morris, T M

  “The pizza should be here in twenty to thirty minutes.” Devon announced from the living room doorway.

  “I’ll try to work up an appetite by then.” Lucy muttered. She turned to face Devon and asked in disbelief, “You call this minimal damage?”

  He nodded. “Considering the whole house could have been lost, yes.”

  She sighed as she leaned against the sink staring at the now useless stove. “I suppose you are right. Devon, I am so sorry.”

  He crossed the small room in a couple of strides and enveloped her into his powerful but comforting embrace. “I’m sorry, too. Will you help me with picking out colors and appliances and the like?”

  Lucy’s hands snaked their way along Devon’s muscular back as she clung to him. “I’ll be glad to help. You know, you have to admit this whole situation is bordering on the ridiculous.”

  He stroked her hair and inhaled its fragrance. Smoke. “I do admit this is getting to be ridiculous. When is the pizza going to get here?” He stepped away from her shoving his hands through his hair.

  Ever since Gatlinburg the line between employee and employer had become almost impossible to maintain.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Out with it, Lucy. What’s bothering you?” Carmella asked as she handed Lucy the coffeepot. “You have been acting very strange since the break-ins and the fire.

  Lucy looked around the office to see if anyone was nearby. “Where is Jack?”

  “I believe he’s in his office. Why?” Carmella said.

  “I don’t need any extra ears listening in, is all. Carmella, I need the name of a good obstetrician.” Lucy kept her eyes lowered studying her coffee as if it were the most interesting thing she had ever seen.

  “So you are pregnant?” Carmella nodded in silent understanding. She asked, “Are you happy about it?”

  “Yes I’m pregnant, but as far as happy, I’m not sure yet. What am I going to do Carmella? I can’t let Devon find out—he’ll fire me.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you, sweetie. He might surprise you. Do you have any idea how he feels about you?” Carmella said.

  “I know he is physically attracted to me—but as for how he feels I have no idea.” Lucy muttered. She slumped into a chair bowing her head and letting her hair fall forward, her depression obvious even to the casual passerby. She inspected her fingernails. “What am I gonna do?”

  As Lucy and Carmella continued their discussion, Jack, who was listening from the hall, turned to go back to his office smiling with smug satisfaction. He stopped midstride, turned on his heels and walked back down the hall toward Carmella’s desk. “Carmella?” He called.

  The hushed conversation stopped and Carmella answered, “Yes, Jack.”

  “I’m curious—when is the family Christmas dinner this year?” Jack tried to sound innocent.

  “The Christmas dinner is this Saturday evening.” Carmella answered with thin patience. “John and Sylvia are expecting everyone at six. Something you should already know. Why?”

  “I wanted to make sure I had it right on my calendar before I call to remind Sydney. Are you coming Lucy?”

  The expectant expression he wore made Lucy uneasy as usual. She stood as she answered, “Yes I am. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get down to the courthouse now.”

  “See you Saturday, then.” Jack favored her with a devious smile.

  “Yeah. I guess.” Lucy grated. She scurried past him into her office to get her things. She dreaded having to be in the same room with Jack for more than a few minutes, more so if he was drinking. Having Sydney there as well would make the evening so much more stressful. She was about to leave when the telephone rang. She turned back to the desk and lifted the receiver. “Hello.”

  “Luce? Devon. Can you get down here? I need you.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m down-stairs in the garage.”

  “I’ll be right down.”

  “Hurry.”

  She raced out of the office and down the stairs, not waiting for the elevator. Her heart was pounding in her ears. What could be wrong? She burst through the door to find Devon in his usual nonchalance leaning against the side of his truck. “Devon? What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

  Devon smiled and shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong, but it sure feels good to know you care.”

  “Who said I cared? It’s just, you sounded so urgent.” Lucy looked around confused. She crossed her arms. “What’s going on?”

  “Get in the truck. I have a surprise for you.” He smiled.

  “I’m not sure I like surprises anymore.” Lucy muttered. She climbed with reluctance into the truck and waited to be surprised. Devon looked quite happy with himself but he wouldn’t even hint at what the surprise entailed. He drove north toward the Kentucky State line. When Lucy probed, he would smile and tell her to be patient. Twenty minutes later, he pulled off the interstate and drove down the road for several minutes before pulling into a pawnshop parking lot. She was confused. She had not been on this side of town very often and she had never been in a pawnshop before in her life. “What are we doing here?”

  “You’ll see. Come on.”

  Lucy was about to explode with dubious curiosity. She followed him into the shop. Inside she saw a couple of police officers looking bored. She pulled on his arm in order to ask what was going on when Devon said, “I spoke with Officer Jernigan this morning and he told me they had this pawnshop dealer reporting a kid trying to sell an old wedding ring set. The dealer here didn’t believe the boy’s story. He told the kid he would call him if he could find someone to buy it. He then called the police and described the set and it sounded as if it matched the set stolen from your condo. They set up some kind of sting and caught the boy.”

  “I never expected to see them again—are they here?”

  “Yeah. Wait here.”

  After a few minutes of talking with the officers they brought her mother’s wedding rings to her. Her eyes glistened. She was holding her mother’s rings again in her own hot little hands. In her excitement and without thinking she hugged him tight and kissed him with an unexpected fervor.

  An older man in the store laughed, “I reckon she likes that set, young man. You better buy it for her and marry her quick before she gets away.”

  Devon slipped his arms around her waist pulling her closer to him as he replied, never taking his eyes from her, “Don’t worry; I won’t let her get away.”

  Lucy went crimson. All the excitement and being so close to Devon was almost more than she could handle. She felt punch-drunk and in response she asked, “Don’t you have to catch me first?”

  He looked down into her eyes. His eyes sparkled as he answered her question with a question, “Do you want to be caught?”

  “That’s a very sobering question.” She extricated herself from his embrace. She turned her back to him to hide the confusion playing over her face. She frowned.

  “But it’s not a difficult one, Luce. Do you want to be caught? More importantly, do you want me to catch you?” Devon murmured next to her ear. He was standing so close behind her she could feel his heat on her back.

  In an attempt to divert the conversation toward safer territory Lucy asked, “Are we finished here? Can we go?”

  He released a heavy sigh. “I’ll see.”

  Lucy pretended to study the contents of a display case. What was she doing? She should be running. Where she should be running to she had no idea, but she was desperate to get some space between them. She needed to clear her head so she could think; to figure out what she was going to do. And goodness knew she couldn’t think around Devon, even if her very life depended on it. They were together almost every waking hour, with very few exceptions, from the moment he took her home Thanksgiving evening to find her condo ransacked. She was even more in love with him now than ever before and even more confused. He was still her boss even if she did own a small share in the company now. She was falling apart on the
inside. What had happened to her avowal to run in the opposite direction from an interoffice affair as fast as she could? Granted, neither one of them was married, but still…her parents had taught her better.

  How could he act so calm? How could he act as if they had never made love? How could he walk out on her the way he did the morning after the break in? Was he playing games with her with his sweet little tantalizing kisses and reassuring embraces? Was she playing games with herself? Was she reading more into those mild flirtations? Was he toying with her? What was she going to do? How could she have let all this happen? She couldn’t believe how deep in the muck and mire of twisted fear, love and frustration she was wallowing.

  Frustration seemed to be her predominating emotion. And what was he doing teasing her with questions on whether or not she wanted to be caught? She needed to stop letting things happen to her and start making things happen for her again, right? It all boiled down to being proactive again and not reactive. It was easier said than done. When had she slipped into reacting instead of acting, anyway? She used to be in control.

  “See something you like?” The shop dealer asked.

  Lucy started, “Uh? Oh. No. I mean…I was just looking. Thank you.”

  Devon walked up beside her and said, “We can leave anytime you are ready.”

  “Good. Let’s go.” She said. She spun on her heels and raced out of the building.

  He caught up with her at the truck. As he helped her in he asked, “What has got into you? A few minutes ago you were fine.”

  Avoiding his eyes she answered, “I’m still fine. I just wanted to get out of there.”

  He shrugged as he closed her door and she watched him round the front of the truck and climb in. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I have told you before, Luce, you are a rotten liar, darlin’. I think I might be getting to you.”

  Lucy turned to stare at him in disbelief. He kissed her with hunger, surprising her. She couldn’t keep from responding in kind. She arched toward him and parted her lips. Their tongues danced for a moment before he leaned back and smiled with satisfaction, “That’s what I thought.”

  Lucy growled at him—words failing her. Devon turned toward the steering wheel and without another word he drove them back to the office. When they arrived he checked his watch. “You know it’s too late to get anything done, so why don’t we call it a day?”

  “Fine. I mean, if I can ditch out of here without getting into trouble with the boss.” She muttered climbing out of the cab of the truck. During the drive her mood had plummeted. She was desperate to get away from him—she couldn’t think when he was around. Not to mention nausea was beginning to overtake her again. She didn’t bother to say anything to him. She walked over to her car and fumbled with the keys.

  Devon was beside her, “Are you sure you are all right? You’ve been acting rather strange of late.”

  “I’m beginning to think my lunch was off. My stomach is a real mess. Not to mention the past few weeks have been overwhelming. I just want to get home and rest.” Lucy tried to explain as she unlocked the door and climbed into her car.

  Devon crossed his arms and stood back as he said with a voice thick with frustration, “I don’t believe you are being honest with me Luce. But what can I do? I’ll see you when I get home.” Then as if it were an afterthought, he called over his shoulder, “Have you made an appointment with the doctor yet for a checkup?”

  She didn’t bother to answer. Instead she watched him walk toward the door of the building as she turned the key in the ignition switch to her old car. The engine made a horrible grinding noise then quit. Devon stopped and turned to watch. She tried the key again. The second time, not only did the engine make a horrible grinding noise but smoke billowed out from under the hood.

  Devon met her in front of the car. He opened the hood without a word. After several minutes of checking wires and fluid levels he spoke, “I do believe, Lucy, this car is dead—beyond hope. There is oil in your anti-freeze. Either you need a new head gasket or a new engine. I would bet on the later and this car isn’t worth the cost of a new engine.”

  “Well that’s wonderful!” Lucy threw her hands in the air and ranted, “And now what am I supposed to do? I am not in the mood to go car shopping this evening.”

  “I’ll take you home.” Devon said with a devilish grin, “If you’ll cook up some supper for us.”

  She ran her hands through her hair. “Stop playing with me. The new stove has yet to be delivered.”

  “I’m kidding. I’ll take you to dinner. You’ve had enough trouble for one day. How’s your stomach?”

  “I’m getting some better, I think.” she said popping a peppermint in her mouth.

  “Good. Let’s go. We can decide where once we get going.”

  Lucy nodded climbing in the passenger seat.

  After dinner Devon lead Lucy up the walk to the front door of his home. As he unlocked the door he said, “I suppose you’ll want to go back to your condo—since it looks like everything has been found and the thief is behind bars.”

  “I guess.” She said unable to hide her disappointment. “Did the police say anything about the boy’s motivation for breaking in my condo or if he also did the other two break-ins? Does he know who started the fire? Is he the one who sent the messages? And, what about the roses?”

  Devon smiled, “The police haven’t said. But it sounds to me as if you’d rather not go back to your condo. Do you want to stay a little longer?”

  “It would be more convenient for you, at least until I can buy another car.”

  He nodded. “You’re still not comfortable with going back there are you? I mean we’re not altogether certain who sent those messages, are we? I’m not ready for you to go either—I mean—I like your company. Coffee?”

  Devon didn’t want her to go back to her condo. Even though she was in another bedroom, he felt better having her close. He didn’t know how he ever managed before they met. And to think he thought he was happy and fulfilled. How stupid could he be? Now he knew how incomplete his life had been. If he thought he loved her before, these past couple of weeks since Thanksgiving, having her in his house and always at his side made him even more certain. He loved her. How did she work those little tricks of hers to make him fall in love with her? He announced, “Coffee’s ready.”

  “Thank you.” Lucy said as he handed her a mug.

  The telephone rang, piercing the silence. He went to answer it.

  After a few minutes of listening to Devon’s side of the conversation Lucy realized Devon was talking with Officer Jernigan. The boy was talking. He was hired to do the break-ins, to ransack all three locations. But who was responsible for the windows, the flowers, the notes and the fire, the hit and run? Who could have hired him? Who would want to hurt them in this way?

  Devon spoke into the receiver, “You will arrest him then? Have you spoken with my father? Do you need us to come down to the station? In the morning? Fine. Thank you. Have a goodnight.”

  As he hung up the phone Lucy asked, “Well? What’s happened? Who was the boy working for and did he do all the break-ins?”

  “I would tell you if you would let me get a word in edgewise. Drink your coffee.” He smiled as he lifted his own cup to his lips to drain the contents before he continued. “The boy did do all three break-ins. He just turned sixteen. He was supposed to break in and ransack your house and take your undergarments. Oh, and he only put in the shoebox what was in the drawer. So whatever happened to the rest is anyone’s guess. He was not supposed to steal anything—that was his mistake. Otherwise we would never have caught him.

  “My house and the office were not originally part of the plan. He got the call to do them late Thanksgiving night. He was supposed to break in here when we were both gone. When he saw me leave he thought you were with me. He almost left when he heard you in the shower he didn’t want to hurt anyone nor did he want to get caught. He was afraid of the man who hired him so he
finished the job as fast as he could and then ran. He went straight from here to the office.”

  “Who hired him, Devon? Was it Jack or Jordan? Or was it someone else altogether?” She asked.

  “It was not my stepbrother. He is an annoying sot, but he is not vicious and vindictive. It was Jordan. Officer Jernigan has patrolmen going to his house now to arrest him. Obviously there are several charges against him like: aiding in the delinquency of a minor, violation of a restraining order, and stalking.” He said as he leaned against the kitchen counter and surveyed his almost finished handiwork on the opposite wall.

  “I bet Mrs. Lancaster is ready to throw the book at him as well—what a scumbag.” She shook her head. "Will they let him out on bail?"

  “I don’t know if they will allow him to post bond. If the judge believes he is still a threat to you, or a flight risk, he won't be let out of jail any time soon. He brought it all upon himself Lucy; this is not your fault.” Devon traced a finger down the length of her arm.

  “I know.” She said her voice dull. “Shouldn’t I feel relief now?”

  “What’s the matter Lucy?” He asked. “Aren’t you glad Jordan is getting what he deserves?"

  “Yes, I am glad Jordan is going to get his just desserts, but I-I’m not sure anything is wrong.” Lucy tried to lie. She looked away from Devon’s probing blue gaze. Should she tell him now about the baby? “I—I’m, what about my windows, the flowers, the messages and the fire? Who did them?” She chickened out. She was a coward not to tell him and she knew it.

  “Lucy don’t even try to lie to me. What’s really wrong? We can find out all about it in the morning.” He took her in his arms.

  She turned to better face him. She sighed as she leaned her forehead against his muscular chest. “Devon, hold me. I’m so tired of fighting. All I want is to find some peace. I need you to hold me.”