by Ann Evans
“So…” Moran said. “I was talking to Barry at the hardware store this morning. He says you came in to get a load of stuff, and that you’re going to fix up the place. That true?”
“Yep.”
“Does that mean we’re going to be seeing more of you and your family now?”
“No.” Zack laid his hammer on the railing and picked up one of the new balustrades he’d had cut at the lumberyard. He suspected his news wasn’t likely to sit well with the sheriff, but decisions had been made and plans had been set in motion. He looked the older man in the eye. “I’ve spoken to Mom and she agrees with me that it’s time we sold the cottage. I’m just trying to make a few improvements before I put it on the market.”
As expected, Moran frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “And a little surprised. This cottage has been in your family a long time. Even with your dad’s passing, I would never have guessed you’d sell it.”
Zack shrugged. “Mom’s getting older and doesn’t really want to come up here by herself. Especially with so many memories of Dad everywhere. You know it was more his favorite getaway spot than hers.”
“You used to be pretty fond of it, too, if I remember correctly.”
“I suppose circumstances are just different now.”
Moran squinted up at him. “Are they? That’s too bad. I’ve always thought Lake Harmony spoke especially to the hearts of the Davidson men. You, your dad, your grandfather.” He looked around the exterior of the cottage, as though seeing it for the first time. “Lot of good times tied up in this place.”
“That’s true,” Zack admitted. He ran his hand down the length of wood, wishing they could manage a quick change of subject. He didn’t want to think about Heron Cove belonging to someone else, but as many happy memories as there were tucked in every nook and cranny of the cottage, he still hadn’t been able to walk into the boathouse.
He felt the sheriff’s scrutiny and used the wood in his hand to motion toward his toolbox at the bottom of the steps. “Would you mind handing me that tape measure?”
Moran did as he asked, and for just a moment, their eyes met again. The older man’s were bland, but Zack knew Moran was no fool.
“So how are your girls?” Zack asked.
“They’re fine. All grown up. Trying to boss me around now, telling me what to do, trying to get me to stop eating red meat. Women sure like to take on projects, and I think I’m theirs.”
“I’m sure they mean well.”
The silence between them grew. Abruptly, Zack walked over to the gallon jug of ice water he’d left on a nearby railing. He took a couple of swallows, then wiped his mouth with his arm. The sheriff had turned and stood staring at the lake, his hands hooked into the back of his belt.
Finally, Moran said, “You know who else used to love coming up here?”
Zack wasn’t sure he wanted to ask. “Who?”
The man swung around. “Those two sisters—the Tillmans. In fact, I saw Alaina Tillman in town just yesterday.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah. I asked her how long she’d be staying, but she didn’t tell me anything definite. One thing kind of surprised me, though.”
“What’s that?”
“That she’s not staying here with you.”
Zack gave him a tight smile. He leaned one shoulder against the porch support post. He stared down at the man and pumped ease and disinterest into his voice. “No reason why she should. We’re not kids anymore. We kind of grew apart over the years.”
“Really? That’s not what my deputy says. Whit claims you came up here and rescued her after she broke into this place.”
Zack’s smile grew wider, almost challenging. So that’s what this visit was all about. The sheriff was on a fishing expedition. “No offense, Sheriff, but Whit Russell is an ass who wouldn’t know the truth if it was engraved on his forehead by God.”
Moran chuffed out a short laugh. “Now, go easy on the boy. I realize he can be kind of rough around the edges, but he takes pride in the work he does, and people here know they can count on him to enforce the law and keep a close eye on things.”
“I’m sure he’s got a lot of fine qualities. Unfortunately, I’ve just never seen any of them.”
“So if you don’t mind me asking, why did Alaina Tillman break into Heron Cove?”
“She needed a place to stay for a while, and when she couldn’t get in touch with me to find out where we hide the key, she just broke in. I heard there was quite a storm going on at the time. I guess she was desperate.”
“Made quite a mess, according to Whit.”
“Nothing that couldn’t be fixed. It would have been ridiculous to press charges. At one time, she was practically a member of the family.”
“Then why isn’t she staying here?”
“I think I’ve already answered that question, Sheriff,” Zack replied in a carefully neutral tone. Retrieving his hammer, he used it to pop a board up from the railing so that it could be replaced.
Moran’s gun belt creaked as he settled his hands along the leather. “Alaina claims she’d rather be on her own. But I can’t believe she’d find where she’s staying right now a better situation. Coachman’s Court doesn’t seem like her kind of digs. Of course, if you two aren’t on the best of terms anymore…”
Zack swung back to face the sheriff. “She’s staying at Coachman’s Court?” he asked, trying not to sound half as surprised as he felt.
“That’s what she says.”
Lake Harmony was dripping with small-town charm, but it wasn’t above having a few hard-scrabble places. The kind of areas that would never show up in any visitor’s center brochure. “Is that the motel out by Route 30? The one we used to call Cockroach Court back when I was a kid?”
“That’s the one. Same broken-down furniture and lumpy mattresses. The county health inspector shuts them down about twice a year. Same clientele. Overnight truckers, drifters passing through on their way to someplace else. Right now all the B and Bs and hotels in town are full, but I’d rather sleep in a campground than stay at Coachman’s.”
Zack ordered his pulse to slow down. So Alaina wasn’t staying in a four-star resort. So what? He’d given her a roof over her head for two weeks, and considering the way she’d shut him out of her life, he didn’t figure he owed her anything more than that.
The sheriff was watching him, as though waiting for some sort of explanation.
Zack shrugged. “Alaina’s been roughing it around the country this last year with some environmentalist group. She’s probably used to a little discomfort.”
“If you say so,” Moran said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “Still don’t seem right, though. ’Specially since I understand she’s pregnant.”
“Did she tell you that?”
“No. You know small towns. Word gets out. She made an appointment with Doc Linderman. Becky Swiger at the diner says Alaina had breakfast there the other morning, then lost everything in the bathroom. Becky thought it might be the food—not something I want to hear, since I eat lunch there almost every day—so she followed her into the restroom to make sure she was all right. Alaina claimed it was just a touch of morning sickness. I remember what that was like with my daughter Lauren, and I’d say Alaina Tillman has the same look about her.”
Zack said nothing to that. He removed the pencil from behind his ear and concentrated on marking the piece of wood in his hand.
“So are you the father?” the sheriff asked suddenly.
“No! Hell, no.” The words popped out of Zack’s mouth before he could stop them. He was a little shocked at how violently he’d responded. He forced his mind to go blank, offering a grim smile to Moran, who didn’t look at all as though his question had been out of line. “You’re damn lucky I consider you a family friend. I feel like I’m being interrogated.”
“Sorry. Old habits, I guess. But I’m just curious. This is my town, and I like to know what’s going on in it.”
“Alaina Tillman is nothing to me,” Zack said, only because he felt compelled to set things straight. “I’ve hardly spoken to her in ten years.”
“Humph.” Moran ran his fingers along his chin as though mulling over that response. “Kinda funny is all, that the two of you should be staying in Lake Harmony at the same time.”
Feeling more in control, Zack slid his hammer back into his tool belt. “Stranger things have happened, Sheriff. Life’s funny sometimes. A regular hoot.”
“That it is, boy,” the sheriff said with a nod. “That it is.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
ALAINA STOOD IN FRONT OF the kitchen cupboard and rubbed her belly with one hand. It was probably silly, but she liked to think that the tiny life within her was aware of her touch.
“Okay, kiddo, what would you like for dinner?” She pulled a small bag out of her grocery sack and sat it on the counter. “Chicken and yellow rice? Or…” She withdrew a box and shook it. “Mac and cheese?” Boxed pasta would be quick and easy, and she was all about keeping things simple these days. Besides, she’d been craving something gooey all week. “Macaroni and cheese it is,” she said, smiling down at her stomach.
She’d been at Coachman’s Court for two days. It was a long, one-story motel left over from the sixties, badly in need of a fresh coat of paint and a little greenery. Her unit was pretty basic, though she did have a decent kitchenette. The water was hot, if you let it run awhile. The sheets were worn, but clean. Most of the residents seemed harmless—a little down on their luck, perhaps. But as far as Alaina was concerned, the best thing about it was the price.
Well, the price, and the fact that she didn’t have to worry about giving in to any insane impulses to have sex with Zack Davidson. Definitely safer to be clear on the other side of Lake Harmony. Especially when you had emotions that wouldn’t cooperate and hormones that went off the leash when you least expected them to.
Alaina had just filled her only saucepan with water and was about to turn on the gas stove when she heard a knock on the door. She frowned, hoping it wasn’t one of her fellow residents. She’d been pleasant to them, but she wasn’t trying to bond with anyone. Mostly she was perfectly happy to keep to herself and be left alone.
She looked through the peephole and caught a glimpse of Zack. He didn’t look happy.
“Oh, great,” she whispered.
For a moment she considered not answering, but knowing him as well as she did, she doubted Zack would give up and go away. Feeling her back stiffen as if for battle, she swung the door wide.
He didn’t bother with a greeting. “What in God’s name are you thinking?” he asked. His voice was vibrant with disbelief.
She supposed she ought to be annoyed at his abruptness, and she was, but mostly she was aware of how great he looked. His thick, dark hair was tousled, and if there was ever a man’s body designed for wearing jeans it was Zack’s.
Determined not to lose control of the conversation right off the bat, Alaina smiled at him. “Hello. Nice to see you, too.”
He pointed in the direction of the parking lot. “There’s a guy out there who smells like a brewery.”
“That’s Timothy. He’s harmless. Although I hope you didn’t buy one of his knockoff watches.”
Zack scowled. “I think I got propositioned by one of your neighbors.”
Alaina feigned mild interest, knowing that it would infuriate him. “You must have met Elaine. And yes, she’s a working girl, but she’s very nice. She’s trying to save up enough money to go to Hollywood.” Alaina stepped aside, offering an invitation. “Did you want to come in, or are you just going to stand at the door and yell? Either way is fine with me, although I should warn you, someone’s likely to call the cops.”
He came in. There was a table and two chairs against one wall, but he didn’t move to sit down. Instead, after glancing quickly around the room, he turned to face her, his arms crossed in a combative posture.
“Would you like some coffee?” she asked.
“No.”
“Iced tea?”
“No.”
“So, then. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
“I’ve come to get you.”
“Get me?”
“I’m taking you back to Heron Cove. Pack your things.”
That decree surprised her—and set her temper on simmer. “I’m not going back to the cottage,” she said, shaking her head. “I thought you understood that I—”
“I understood every word you said, and believe me, I’m good with going back to the way things were before we…Just friends, not lovers. The bottom line is, you can’t continue to stay in this…this fleabag.”
“It’s not a fleabag. It’s a perfectly respectable…Well, okay. Maybe it’s not the Ritz-Carlton, but it will do.”
“No, it won’t. Where’s your bag?”
He moved toward the closet. Suddenly furious at his presumptive attitude, Alaina stalked across the room to catch his arm. She had tried to be pleasant, but he’d crossed a line. “Hey! What gives you the right to come in here and start ordering me around? Last time I looked, I was over the age of consent, and I don’t need anyone’s permission, including yours.”
“I’m serious, Al. You’re checking out of this dump.”
“No, I’m not. For right now, this is fine. When Jeffrey and I were traveling, I assure you, we stayed in plenty of places that had a lot less to offer.”
His jaw was clamped shut in a sullen, angry way that said he wouldn’t be denied. “I don’t care where you and Jeffrey stayed. Is this your idea of getting your life together? Is this the kind of place you think is good for the baby? What would your parents think?”
Her eyes burned into his. She was so furious now that she could hardly see. She stepped aside, indicating a clear path to the door. “I think you should leave,” she snapped.
Zack’s features darkened as she stared at him in mutinous silence. He appeared so emphatic and uncompromising. He opened his mouth to say something, then swore instead and sighed deeply. “Look, I apologize. I…” He swore again, shaking his head. “Let me start over. I actually came here for a reason.”
“It had better be a good one.”
“I think it is. It still involves leaving here….”
“I told you—”
He lifted one hand. “Just hear me out. I have an idea I want you…I’d like you to consider.”
“What kind of idea?” she asked, full of suspicion.
“I’d like you to come back to Heron Cove to stay for a few weeks. I’d like you to work for me.”
She hadn’t expected him to say that. What was he up to? “Work for you? Doing what?”
“I’m going to put the cottage up for sale, but I need help. I can handle anything on the outside, any handy-man kind of stuff. But the inside needs updating. It hasn’t had a makeover since the sixties.”
At this news, some of her anger dissipated like summer storm clouds. Selling Heron Cove? The idea seemed impossible to contemplate. “You’re going to sell the cottage?”
“Yeah. Some of the furniture can stay, but I’m thinking new wallpaper and paint. Pack up some of the kitschy junk that’s been collecting dust for years. Maybe new kitchen and bath fixtures. You’d be the best judge of what it needs, I suppose.”
“But Heron Cove has always been so special to your family. There are so many—”
Zack cut her off sharply. “Things change.” She could see by the look on his face that he didn’t want to talk about it. “Will you take the job?”
“Why me?”
“Why not you? Until Gil convinced you otherwise, you would have made a career out of interior design. And I’ve seen Maggie’s new place. She said it was completely your doing. I like it, and I think you could bring some of that expertise to Heron Cove. You take care of the inside, while I work on the outside.”
“So we’d both be there at the same time.
”
“Yes.”
She shook her head. “Then I can’t do it.”
“Why not? Are you already working someplace else?”
“No, but I might be soon. Do you remember Heather, Sheriff Moran’s daughter? She has a shop on the square that needs some extra help for the season.”
“My offer comes with room and board.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“You know perfectly well why not.”
“I’ve given that some thought, too,” he replied. His tone sounded so reasonable now. As though he really expected her to see his side of this. “All right, so we acted on some long suppressed feelings we once had for each other. But it’s over. Finished. You made it very clear it was a mistake and it’s not going to happen again.”
“That doesn’t mean it would be easy to work side-by-side every day.”
“As you pointed out, we’re adults. We don’t have to give in to those…impulses. You wanted to remain friends. This is one way to do it.”
Her mind was doing a rabbit run. The idea had merit. It even made some sense. And no doubt about it, it would definitely be a better environment than Coachman’s Court. But there was always the possibility…. She grimaced. “I don’t know, Zack….”
“Look, this isn’t charity,” he said in a rush, as though sensing her hesitation. “You’ll earn your pay. I could get someone else to do the job, but I don’t want to spend a lot of time interviewing designers and checking out their work. I’ve seen what you can do.”
“How long do you think it would take?”
“A few weeks at the most. I might have to make a trip back to Miami for business, but that shouldn’t take much time. There will be plenty of things to keep you busy up here in the meantime.”
She rubbed her forehead, wishing she had time to think this over. But what good would that do? She’d spent her whole life playing by the rules, and where had it gotten her? “This is so unexpected….”
“Have you heard from Jeffrey?”
For a split second she was tempted to lie, but she couldn’t do it. “No,” she admitted, then added quickly, “But that doesn’t mean anything.”