Lost With You (Cloverton #1)

by Jodi Vaughn

  He glanced down at his watch. Maybe he could just leave the cake on the front steps. He was the wrong person to be sending out as a welcome party anyway. He hadn’t been much on socializing since his breakup with Felicia after catching her in bed with his co-worker. He’d been so devastated after being betrayed by his friend and fiancée, that he’d left town for a month to gain some perspective. He’d returned to find his co-worker had requested and received a transfer to Nashville and Felicia was still flirting with half the fucking town.

  He’d returned with one simple credo: people lied and could not be trusted.

  There was movement on the other side of the door before it creaked open. He sent up a silent prayer that the woman wasn’t going to talk his ear off, or worse, hit on him. Ever since his breakup, the women of Cloverton made it clear they could mend his heart.

  There was one problem with that assumption. He no longer possessed a heart.

  Every coherent thought fled as a petite woman appeared in the doorway, looking up at him with eyes the color of sapphires. She had a red bandana tied around her dark hair. A few strands escaped to frame her heart-shaped face. Even without a stitch of makeup, and a smudge of dirt across her cheek, she was gorgeous.

  And younger than what he’d imagined. She couldn’t be more than twenty-six.

  “Can I help you?” He didn’t miss the slight tremor in her voice.

  His thumb fiddled with the Saran wrap. “You must be Grace.”

  “I am.” She frowned.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m Sloan Jackson. Allison’s brother.”

  Her frown deepened and she crossed her arms. “I’m guessing she told you what happened.”

  “Yes, she did. “

  “It wasn’t Allison’s fault. I didn’t look before I crossed the street.” She tightened her arms around her chest. “I didn’t even use the crosswalk.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” His gaze drifted down her body looking for visible signs of damage. He couldn’t see through her snug faded jeans and navy T-shirt for injuries, but he certainly enjoyed the view.

  “I’m fine, Mr. Jackson.”

  “Allison should have called the ambulance or taken you to the doctor to be checked out.”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m perfectly fine and I didn’t want to get her in trouble.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Allison seemed to misplace her worry. She should have been more worried about you. I’ll have to speak with her about that.”

  She grabbed his arm. “No, don’t do that. I assure you she was very worried about me. Please don’t say anything to her. I don’t want to make her feel worse than she already does.”

  His gaze drifted down to her small hand lingering on his arm, warming his skin. His heartbeat sped up and suddenly his mouth was very dry. “Allison made this for you, to welcome you to town.”

  Her lips parted in surprise. “She didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”

  “She wanted to do something nice for you.” He ran his hand across the back of his neck. “She taped her address and phone number on the bottom of the plate in case you need anything.”

  She placed the cake onto a small table in the foyer. Judging from the age and amount of dust, Sloan guessed the table had come with the house.

  “Please, thank her for me.”

  “I will.” He looked over her shoulder. “So you bought the old Hadley place. It’s going to take a lot of work to get it back into shape.”

  “The house has good bones. I don’t mind a little hard work. With the nice weather we’re having I hope to get some of the furniture outside to air out.”

  “Do you need a hand? I could help move some stuff outside for you.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Thank you. I can handle it myself. The furniture that’s left is small and not heavy.” She reached for the door. “Thank you for dropping this by, Mr. Jackson.”

  “Call me Sloan.” He stuck out his hand. She hesitated a moment before taking it. He smiled at the touch of her petite hand in his larger one. Though her face was flawless, her hands told a different story. She might look like she belonged on the cover of a magazine, but her calloused hands suggested Grace was a hard worker.

  Still holding her hand, he grinned. “Grace, do you have a last name?”

  She blinked. “Yeah, sorry. It’s Witherspoon.”

  “Grace Witherspoon.” He nodded. “Well, Grace it’s nice to have you in our little town. I’m sure you’ll find we are pretty friendly, whenever we are not trying to run anyone over with our cars.”

  A melodious laugh bubbled out of her mouth. He couldn’t help himself as his grin grew. “So where did you move here from?”

  She pulled her hand away and her smile faded. The cop in him alerted to the fact that her guard was up. “I moved from Idaho.”

  “Idaho. That’s quite a change.”

  She nodded and averted her gaze. “I got tired of the winter weather and thought I’d give living in the south a try.”

  “Did you grow up in a small town there?”

  She shook her head. “No, I grew up in Boise.”

  “Ah, you’re a city girl. Things are a lot different out here in the country. It may take some getting used to.”

  “I think I’ll acclimate very quickly. It’s peaceful and quiet. I like my solitude.” She brushed a stray hair out of her eyes. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to cleaning.”

  He knew when he was being dismissed. “Just let me know if you need any help.”

  “I won’t need anyone’s help,” she murmured.

  He stopped halfway down the steps and turned before she had a chance to shut the door. “Everyone needs help at some point in his or her life, whether you ask for it or not. Believe me, there are no secrets in a small town.”

  ***

  Standing in the overgrown front yard, Grace wiped her hand across her sweaty brow and stared at the house looming before her. Sloan was right when he said it needed a lot of work. She wasn’t going to hold it against her home. She needed a lot of work too.

  She ran her hands up and down her arms, shivering as she thought back to Sloan’s parting words.

  There are no secrets in a small town.

  She’d been frozen to the floor when she heard the knock on her door. When she forced herself to answer the door, she was shocked to see a man on the other side. He was well over six feet with dark blond hair and deep blue eyes. His presence dwarfed her, physically and mentally. All the while he stood there talking, her mind was three steps ahead, thinking, planning, assessing if she could get away from him the situation demanded.

  Sloan Jackson was the type of man that made women look twice. Grace had learned a long time ago that a handsome face sometimes hid a monster behind it.

  Maybe coming here was a bad idea. Maybe she needed to stay on the move just a few more months.

  She shook her head and stiffened her spine. She couldn’t run forever. No, coming to Cloverton was the right decision. She’d known the moment she’d seen the house online this was going to be her starting over point. This little house was going to be her salvation.

  “Better get busy getting you fixed up.” She spoke to the house, but somehow it felt like she was speaking to herself. It was going to take a lot more than soap and rags to make her feel clean again. It was going to take a small miracle.

  Hours later, Grace sat on the step of the front porch and sighed. She took a long drink from the bottle of water she pulled from the refrigerator. She brushed a fingernail across the condensation and made a mental to-do list.

  After moving all the furniture outside she’d taken down all the curtains and inspected them for damage. Moths had eaten every pair except for the dark green velvet ones that hung in the dining room. The damaged curtains went into the garbage. The velvet curtains were draped over the porch railing to air out.

  She’d swept the house from top to bottom, capturing cobwebs within the tight bristles of her broom. Th
en she’d gotten busy washing baseboards and mopping the hardwood floors. She’d noticed scratches and paint marks on the floors. They needed to be sanded and refinished. Unfortunately, that would have to wait until she had the right equipment. After cleaning up the furniture, she moved it back inside. Overall, she’d gotten a lot done.

  She stood and grimaced at the twinge of pain in her leg. She glanced down at the deep purple bruise that had grown in size on her thigh. She didn’t need her leg to be re-injured.

  It’s just a bruise, nothing more. Right?

  She sucked in a breath and calmed her racing thoughts. If the bone had been broken she wouldn’t be walking around on it. She knew that from experience.

  She just needed a nice long soak in the tub to ease her aches and her mind.

  She was going to be all right. She had to be.

  Chapter Two

  Sloan sighed as the waitress at the Greasy Fork Café placed today’s special of chicken and dumplings in front of him. Before he could take a bite, Allison was making her way across the restaurant toward him.

  “Was she okay?” Allison shot him a worried look as she scooted into the booth.

  “She seemed fine to me.” He took a bite of his meal, hoping to dissuade his little sister from conversation. Talking about Grace was the last thing he wanted to do.

  “She didn’t have any bruises? Or cuts? Could she walk okay? Did she look pale? You know, like she’d lost some blood.”

  He froze. “You didn’t mention any bleeding when you hit her.”

  “There wasn’t any blood. But sometimes people have internal bleeding. I saw that on a TV show.”

  He took a drink of his sweet tea, wishing it were beer, and decided on his next words. “She was fully clothed. From what I saw, she looked fine to me.” She was better than fine. She was hot as hell, even without makeup. His ex-girlfriend, Felicia, would never let anyone see her until she was fully made-up.

  “Why didn’t you mention that she was young? I was expecting an older woman with a house full of cats.”

  “You didn’t ask.” She snagged a piece of his cornbread and popped it into her mouth.

  “Stop worrying. She looked healthy. In fact, she said something about moving the furniture outside to air out. If she can manage that, I’d say she is in good shape.”

  Allison’s eyes grew wide. “Sloan, you didn’t help her?” She paled a few shades when he didn’t answer. “She probably thinks we’re the rudest people she’s ever met.”

  He set his fork down. It didn’t look like he’d get to eat lunch after all. “She refused my help. I get the feeling she’s the independent type.”

  “She must be so lonely, all alone in a new place.” Allison cupped her chin in her palms.

  “Some people enjoy their solitude.” Some people enjoyed eating lunch too, he thought.

  “Some people hide their loneliness.”

  He pushed his plate away, his appetite suddenly gone, and looked out the window. The conversation had taken a U-turn right back to him.

  “She didn’t deserve you.”

  This was a topic he didn’t want to talk about, yet his sister always managed to find a way back to it.

  “So you say.”

  “It’s true. It’s been two years and it’s time for you to start dating again.”

  “I happen to be very content with my bachelor status.”

  “Leave the guy alone, Allison.” Tabitha Miller appeared out of nowhere and slid into the booth next to Allison. “All those long weekends he tells you he’s off fishing, he’s probably getting it on with a stripper in Memphis.”

  Allison wrinkled her nose and looked at him. “I thought you were fishing for bass.”

  “I think he’s fishing for ass, honey.” Tabitha snickered.

  He rubbed a hand across his face. Allison and Tabitha had been best friends for years, and when they were together, they always managed to find themselves in crazy situations. Their last escapade had involved breaking into a country club after hours to skinny dip. When the silent alarm went off, he’d arrived, along with two other cops to find his sister and Tabitha naked. Allison insisted it wasn’t what it looked like. He’d quickly covered her up and hauled her ass back to the house. He still heard the snickers in the police department about that one.

  Any hopes he had of Tabitha moving away had dwindled with each passing year. He had accepted the fact that he was stuck with Lucy and Ethel.

  Sloan shook his head. “Why are you listening to her?”

  “Because it’s Tabitha.”

  Tabitha brightened and smiled. “Yeah, ’cause it’s me.” She wrapped her arm around his sister’s shoulder. “Actually, I was just kidding. I don’t think your saint of a brother would step foot inside a strip club. It would make his moral compass go haywire.”

  “Are you implying I’m uptight?”

  “As uptight as a priest during Ash Wednesday service.”

  Allison grinned.

  “But now that we’re on the subject of dating, I saw Sally Parker in the grocery store the other day. She asked me if you were still single.”

  “Don’t even start.” He shot a warning look at Tabitha and then looked at Allison. “I still haven’t forgiven you for that one.” His sister had ambushed him at the movies by bringing Sally Parker along. After the first fifteen minutes, Allison had said she wasn’t feeling well and insisted that Sloan bring Sally home after the movie was over.

  “Come on, it couldn’t have been that bad. Besides, if I had told you I was bringing Sally you wouldn’t have shown up.”

  “Damn straight.” He winced. “I almost wrecked my truck trying to get her off me.”

  Tabitha laughed. Sloan shot her a glare and she sobered. “Well, you know what they say, it’s always the quiet ones.”

  “I was just trying to help,” Allison sighed heavily.

  “I know. If you want to help, please don’t try and play matchmaker for me.” He slid out of the booth and tossed a few bills on the table and hoped there were leftover doughnuts in the break room.

  ***

  Grace knelt in front of the white oven and attacked the inside with a soapy sponge. Although the appliances didn’t appear dirty, the years of sitting unused left a musty odor.

  She sat back on her heels and glanced at the refrigerator that was now scrubbed and gleaming. She had decided to tackle the oven next, then on to the stovetop. Once she started cleaning she couldn’t seem to stop.

  It was therapeutic, like she was scrubbing her past away.

  She almost felt clean.

  Almost.

  She stood and rubbed the soreness in her thigh. The pain was getting better each day. She walked over to open the backdoor as the familiar tinkle of the bell echoed through the empty house. She eased out onto the porch and stood perfectly still.

  The constant chirp of a bluebird against the backdrop of her deep green backyard sent her lips curling into a smile. She leaned over the porch railing and lifted her face to the warm rays of the midday sun. The cool air felt good against her sweaty face and the skin pebbled on her arms as a slight breeze wafted across the porch.

  A feeling of peace settled into the corners of her soul. This was home. Just as quickly as the warm feeling came, a different emotion welled inside, threatening to suffocate her.

  She couldn’t afford to get too comfortable here. Not yet. She wasn’t sure if it was safe to be putting down roots.

  She hissed as the rough wood of the house bit into her back. She wasn’t even aware she had been easing back into the protective shadows of the porch as her thoughts ran rampant.

  “Old habits die hard.”

  She balled her hands into fists, angry at herself. “This has got to stop. I’m safe now.”

  Choosing a house way out in the middle of nowhere had been her plan for months. She’d spent the better part of half a year, driving aimlessly across the United States and surviving on the cash her father had left her.

  “If someth
ing ever happens to me, you are to find our attorney. He’ll tell you what to do.”

  Her chest ached at her father’s last words that he’d spoken to her over the phone. She hadn’t expected them to be his last. She’d learned that fate was cruel. Her father had been killed in a car crash, yet his words had stayed with her.

  When she showed up, the attorney didn’t say a word, just led her into his office and gave her an envelope. He’d left the room while she poured the contents onto his desk.

  Car keys to a funky Ford, a key to a safety deposit box, a new identity and a thousand dollars in cash were stuffed inside the manila envelope, along with a handwritten letter from her father.

  Dearest Jennifer, I left this in case I was no longer here to help. Now is not the time for tears. Now is the time for courage, bravery and action. Dearest, I want you to know I am always with you, watching over you from above. You’ll have to start over someplace new. You’ll have to stay hidden until it’s safe. You’ll know when it’s time. Stay hidden until he’s not looking for you. Until then, take the safety deposit box key to the National Bank of Idaho in Boise. Use the money to start a new life.”

  She traveled west in order to put as much distance between her and New York as possible. She used her cash sparingly and when she was almost out she went to the bank in Idaho to retrieve the money her dad had left. She was shocked to find over a hundred and fifty thousand dollars in cash shoved into the box. Thankfully she’d brought a duffle bag with her to carry it out of the bank.

  Grace had thought she was in love when she’d met Michael Case. She’d been a dancer in the New York Ballet and had been waiting tables to make ends meet. Michael had come into the restaurant late one night and had charmed her from the start. She was impressed by his generous nature and the lavish lifestyle he led. The abuse didn’t start until three months after she’d moved into his Manhattan penthouse.