Beauty in Hiding

by Robin Patchen

  She looked to Jack for help. He gently took the trash she was squeezing in her fist, dropped it in the can, and held his hand out to her. “Come on. He’ll be fine.”

  Defeated, she leaned down, kissed Gramps on the cheek. “You sure?”

  He patted her arm. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”

  Just what she needed—to be alone with Jack. His hand was still reaching toward her. What else could she do but slip hers into it. Together, they stepped into the sunny day.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jack was having a hard time focusing. The day was beautiful, the sun was shining, the waves were crashing against the rocks across the street, but his mind was on the soft, chilled hand wrapped in his and the woman beside him.

  They reached the edge of the road, and Harper looked behind them. “You sure he’ll be okay?”

  Jack looked, too. Folks were congregated at the tables around the ice cream parlor soaking up the sun. “How far can he go?”

  “What if he gets sick or something?”

  Jack squeezed her hand. “He wanted to be alone.”

  “I know.” She sighed and turned toward the street. At a break in traffic, they darted to the far side.

  He climbed the rocks of the jetty before helping her up. When she was steady, they turned toward the sea and walked. She kept her hand in his.

  The rocks on top were mostly flat, but Jack and Harper still had to be careful not to slip.

  The wind whipped Harper’s hair, and she pushed it out of her face. He glimpsed the tiny cut on her forehead that she’d gotten a week earlier. It seemed to be healing well. Her bruises had faded completely.

  He wanted to ask her about them, but Vanessa’s words reverberated in his ears. She didn’t trust him enough to tell him. Questioning her wouldn’t make that better.

  They made it to the end of the jetty, where she stared out at the blue waves, at the rocky coastline to the north dotted with little cabins and giant mansions and hotels and ice cream stands and restaurants. To the south lay Hampton Beach and the boardwalk with its tourist shops and arcades and hotels and rental cabins.

  “It’s so beautiful,” she said.

  He forced his gaze away from her face to see what she was seeing. “It is.”

  For a moment, she seemed as carefree as the seagulls cawing overhead.

  She turned his direction and met his gaze. “I say this a lot.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Thank you.” She gestured to the scene surrounding them. “I needed this today.”

  He shrugged. “Sure.”

  “You’ve been a good friend to us.” She met his gaze, her blue eyes watery and sincere, her cheeks pink in the chilly wind, her hair blowing behind her like some sort of sea goddess. She seemed lost, alone in the world except for an old man who needed her. She was lonely, frightened, needy, and everything in him wanted to help. To give her everything she needed, everything he had.

  “I’m sorry I’m so…” She looked back out to sea. “I should be a better friend. It’s been a hard transition.”

  He stared at her silhouette and fought the urge to pull her to his chest, to hold her and tell her she could trust him. Waves of protectiveness and sheer desire washed over him. They lingered like salt after a dip in the ocean, seasoning his every thought. He swallowed, licked his lips. Touched her chin and urged her gaze back to his. Those eyes. He could dive into those eyes and stay forever.

  They narrowed, and her head tilted to the side.

  Right. She’d said something. He thought back, remembered. Something about the transition. “You’re doing a wonderful job.”

  Her lips parted like she might speak, but she said nothing.

  Hair blew across her face. He wanted to push it back, to feel the silky strands between his fingers.

  She turned toward the shore and let go of his hand. “We should…”

  No. He didn’t want to go back. He liked the glimpse of the true Harper, the girl behind the mask. But the connection was broken. The memory of it wouldn’t fade that quickly. If ever. “Okay.”

  They started back. He searched his brain for something to say, something innocuous, something that wouldn’t push her away. Finally, what felt like a safe question entered his mind. “Where’d you grow up?”

  She looked at him, eyes wide as if he’d just caught her stealing from the till.

  Crap. Were there no fields that didn’t contain land mines where this woman’s past was concerned? “I figured it wasn’t Maryland. I mean, since you don’t ski and didn’t have much to say about the coast. Maybe you visited as a kid. You and your grandfather have a good relationship.” He was babbling. It seemed to be working as the shock in her expression faded.

  They reached a gap in the rocks, and she focused on her steps. “Wichita, Kansas.”

  It sounded true. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody from Kansas.”

  “Never been there?”

  “Never been that far west. What’s it like?”

  “Flat. Skies as wide as…” She looked around, and her lips quirked in an almost smile. “As wide as this, actually. Except instead of ocean, we have grassland.”

  “And tornadoes?”

  “I’ve never been swept away, so you can keep the Dorothy jokes to yourself.”

  “Dog named Toto?”

  “Not even close.” She walked a few steps and added, “Dog was named Lassie.”

  “All sorts of American film references going on.”

  She giggled. An actual joyful, troubles-abandoned, I-trust-you-at-least-for-this-second giggle. The sound made his heart race, his palms sweat in the cold breeze. That giggle did something to his insides, something he’d better not name. Something he’d better figure out how to undo and fast.

  But she looked at him, those blue eyes sparkling like the water beneath him, and he knew there was no undoing it.

  “Lassie was not named after Lassie.”

  He tried to make sense of that. “Okay.”

  “He was named after Bobbie Douglass, former KU quarterback. Played most of his NFL career for the Bears. How Douglass became Lassie, I have no idea.”

  It was Jack’s turn to laugh. “I’m sure you’ll be shocked to know that I’ve never heard of him.”

  She shrugged. “He’s before our time.”

  “Is your mom a big KU fan?”

  “Both my parents are.”

  “Huh.” He tried to fit those pieces into the puzzle. “How’d your dad become such a KU fan if he’s from Maryland?”

  “Oh.” She looked forward, swallowed.

  Another landmine tripped.

  “He went to college there,” she said.

  “That makes sense.” And it would have, if she were a better liar.

  Truth was, none of it made sense.

  She switched from truth to lies so fast. But the fact that she was so bad at it told him something. Told him her entire life wasn’t built on lies. For whatever reason, she felt she needed them right now. And that wasn’t okay.

  Yet, somehow, her lies didn’t push him away. Because he’d known this woman just over a week. He’d seen her tender care for her grandfather. He’d watched her labor to provide for them both. Whatever was going on with her, he couldn’t suspect her of wrongdoing.

  And no matter how little he wanted to admit it, he was falling for her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The next morning, at the start of her shift, Harper stared at the schedule posted in the kitchen at McNeal’s.

  The door behind her swished open, and she glanced at Bonnie as the woman beelined toward her.

  Harper tapped her finger against her name scrawled beside the evening hours. “I have nobody to stay with Gramps.”

  The older woman took a deep breath. “I know you don’t want to work evenings, but my grandson’s in a recital, and I’m not gonna miss it. Nobody else can do it.”

  “I can’t do it.”

  Bonnie crossed her arms. “Y
ou’re doing a great job here, Harper. You fit right in, and the customers love you.”

  “Thank—”

  “But I gotta have employees who can be flexible. If you can’t, then maybe we need to rethink this.”

  The words settled in her gut like ice. She couldn’t lose this job. She was barely getting by as it was.

  Bonnie patted her on the shoulder. “You can take tomorrow off. I can get someone to—”

  “No.” She swallowed, shook her head. “No. I need all the hours I can get.” She focused again on the schedule. “Maybe I can bring Gramps with me.”

  “Ask Vanessa. I bet she’ll know somebody who can keep an eye on him for you.”

  Harper turned, forced a smile. “Yeah. I’ll do that. Thanks.”

  Vanessa probably would know somebody. Maybe one of Gramps’s friends at the rec center would let him come hang out. Except evenings were his worst time. He did best when he was home, when he was in a familiar setting with familiar people. When he could fall in and out of sleep for a few hours in his chair before going straight to bed.

  She had no idea what to do, but staring at the schedule wasn’t going to help.

  She tied her apron strings, grabbed her order pad, and headed into the dining room.

  As she worked, the answer, the obvious answer, dogged her like a pesky fly.

  Hadn’t he already done enough for her?

  How could she ask more of him?

  As if conjured by her thoughts, the man in question arrived after the lunch crowd and was seated in one of her booths.

  With a gaze at the ceiling, she thought, Fine. I’ll ask him.

  Jack saw her approaching and smiled as if she were the best thing he’d seen all day.

  Wow. That smile.

  How could she ask one more favor of this man? So far he hadn’t acted as if he expected anything from her. But hadn’t every man in her past fooled her?

  “Hey,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh.” She shook off her warring thoughts. “Sorry. Distracted. You know what you want?”

  “I’ll wait and order when Ginny gets here.”

  Ginny again. Right.

  “I looked at those apartments this morning. I’m going to make an offer today.”

  “Oh. Good.”

  He shrugged. “I stopped by the rec center a little while ago, and your grandfather and I went over the numbers. I think it’s a good deal, if I can get it for the right price.”

  “Then I hope you do.”

  His gaze held hers, and she couldn’t seem to shake it off. He tilted his head to the side. “Is something wrong?”

  “Oh, no. It’s nothing.” Her stomach churned as if she were standing up for an audition, not asking a neighbor for a favor. “I just… Bonnie had to schedule me for tonight, so I’m trying to figure out what to do with Gramps. I thought maybe—”

  “No problem. What time?”

  “I… Oh.” The relief was so strong, she nearly had to sit down. “Thank you. I feel like I’m always needing something from you, and—”

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  Harper turned as Jack’s real estate agent slid into the seat across from him. She met Harper’s eyes. “Haley, right?”

  “Harper,” Jack said.

  “Oh. Sorry.” She shook her head, smiled too widely. “I’m usually good at names.” She closed her eyes, said, “Harper, like harpoon.” The eyes popped open. “If I just visualize you harpooning a whale, I’ll never forget again.”

  “Ahoy, matey,” Harper said.

  Ginny laughed. “It’s a good trick. You should try it.”

  Harper closed her eyes, opened them, and said, “If I visualize you with a straw and a lime twist, I’ll remember yours, too.”

  Ginny’s smile faded just a bit. “Right. Well, then. I’ll have a Sprite.”

  Harper turned to Jack, whose lips were fighting a smile. “Water for me.”

  Trying very hard not to look like Captain Ahab, Harper turned to fetch their drinks.

  She kept an eye on them, delivering their lunches and refilling their drinks, as Jack and Ginny pored over paperwork spread across the table. They hardly spared her a glance when she asked if they needed anything else.

  And if she caught Ginny looking at Jack with longing, at least she never saw the look returned.

  Harper had cashed out all her customers but Jack by the time Ginny paid her bill and left. Harper approached the table. “Well?”

  “She’s going to fax the offer right now.”

  “Wow,” she said. “This could really happen.”

  He pulled out his wallet, counted out some cash, and dropped the bills on the table. “I gotta run. What time tonight?”

  “I need to be here at five.”

  “Aye-aye, captain.” He winked. “I’ll be over at four-thirty.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Derrick was parked a few houses down from Harper’s childhood home in Wichita. He’d flown in from Vegas the day before, rented a car, and come straight here, and he’d been watching the house off and on ever since.

  She had to be here.

  Where else would she have gone? She’d always told him how much she wanted to reconcile with her family. She had little money and an old man to take care of. According to Roger, she hadn’t used Gramp’s debit card since the previous weekend. Seemed she and Gramps had been holed up in a hotel in Newark. But then she’d disappeared.

  If she hadn’t returned to Vegas, she must have come here.

  But there’d been no sign of her. And except to use the bathroom and buy food, Derrick had hardly left this spot. He’d parked about a block down from her parents’ house in the shade of an oak tree that kept dropping leaves and acorns on his rental.

  He still couldn’t get over the neighborhood. He knew she hadn’t grown up poor, but still. The homes here were huge, and each sat on at least two acres of beautifully landscaped property. The house Harper had grown up in was one of the largest on the street, a two-story brick home with a three-car garage. The front porch was decorated with straw bales and potted mums. After the Thanksgiving holiday, he’d bet his last dollar those would be replaced with Christmas decorations.

  How had a girl from this neighborhood ended up as a stripper in Vegas? Harper had told him the stories, but seeing her childhood home in person brought into perspective just how far she’d fallen.

  Dreams of show business had lured her away.

  Promises from lying men had kept her from coming home.

  Derrick had never intended to be one of those lying men. He’d wanted to save Harper. Believed they could save each other. And they could have, if only she’d supported him.

  There’d been a time when he’d hoped he and Harper could still make their relationship work. If she apologized, if she promised to be true to him… But with his arms, his back, and his pride all wounded after the showdown with Quentin, Derrick was well past caring a whit about Harper. He needed to find her because he needed Gramps’s money. Gramps wouldn’t turn over his money to Derrick voluntarily, but Harper could talk him into it. If she refused, then he’d use Gramps’s love for her—love that should have been Derrick’s—to get the cash.

  It was still early in the day, but Derrick couldn’t stand it any longer. He drove to the house, parked, and strode to the front steps. He’d seen her father leave for work an hour earlier, and he hadn’t seen any sign of her brothers. According to Harper, the older was married, the younger college-aged. Her mother would be home alone.

  Derrick knocked. A minute later, the door swung open.

  The woman was a more mature version of Harper. Tall and slender with blond hair and blue eyes. “Can I help you?”

  Derrick offered his most charming smile. “I hope so, ma’am. Are you Mrs. Cloud?”

  “I am.”

  “My name is Derrick Burns. I’m a friend of your daughter.”

  The woman’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped a shade. “Oh.” She blinked twic
e. Then her eyes narrowed. “Has something happened?”

  Derrick let his smile fade. “Not that I know of, but I’m worried about her safety.” He let that hang in the air for a moment before he added, “Can I come in?”

  The woman blinked, glanced beyond him, then behind her. “Are you with the police or something?”

  “No, ma’am. Like I said, I’m a friend.”

  “Why are you worried about her?”

  He dropped his gaze to the porch, left it there a moment before he looked back up. Going for embarrassed and nervous. “I’m in love with your daughter. I must’ve scared her off when I asked her…” He shrugged. “I know she wanted to reconcile with you guys. I thought maybe…” He swallowed, added another shrug for good measure. “I guess if you’ve never heard of me, then she must not be here. I’d like to think she’d have mentioned me. So I guess I’ll just…” He turned away.

  “Wait!”

  He forced the triumphant smile into hiding and turned back.

  “Please, come in.” She stepped aside, and he entered the two-story foyer, let his gaze wander up the curving staircase in front of him. “We can talk in the kitchen.”

  He followed her down a tiled hallway and into the great room. She indicated a stool at the long bar that separated the kitchen from the family room, and he slid onto it.

  “Can I get you something? Coffee, tea?”

  “Did Harper learn to make her sweet tea from you?”

  The woman’s eyes filled, and she blinked the emotion away. “She likes it sweeter than I do.”

  “I’ve gotten used to it.” Derrick let his polite smile fade as the woman watched. “I’m worried something’s happened to her.”

  “Oh, no.” Mrs. Cloud’s tears dripped down her cheeks. “If only she’d come home.”

  Crap. Obviously, the woman was telling the truth. This trip had been a waste of time and money, unless Mrs. Cloud could give him a hint as to where Harper might’ve gone.