His Brother's Secret

by Debra Salonen

  The following January, she’d transferred to Black Hills State—in theory. She couldn’t list how many times she’d skipped classes to hide out here. But when midterm grades showed up, she’d had to deal with the flack from her father who simply didn’t understand why she couldn’t “get back on her horse,” as he put it. Education had been the cornerstone of his belief system. To have a daughter flunk even one class was unthinkable.

  She’d left Sentinel Pass the following fall rather than face his disappointment when she didn’t go back to school.

  “That’s not necessary. I’ve been known to swing a hammer, and I’m sure someone at the hardware store could replace the glass for me. Besides, the inspector’s shameless self-promotion was mild compared to what my mother might say or do if she were home when we got there. She used to be an actress.”

  “It comes with the job,” he said carelessly, holding out his hand. “Where’s your hammer?”

  She didn’t know why he was so concerned about what happened to her, but she’d felt unsettled since Libby’s call that morning—and, in truth, she was a little freaked out by the break-in. She’d learned a long time ago to listen to her instincts, and whose instincts seemed pretty comfortable with Shane from college, so she made a gut call. “Stay here. I’ll get it.”

  She was back in under a minute, and they walked around the side of Dizzy to find the breach. Neither spoke at first, then Shane said, “I don’t usually tell people what I do for a living. If someone asks, I tell them I’m a screenwriter. Which is what I still do. But I never admit to being a director.”

  “Why?”

  “I was once hit up for a part by the woman cleaning my teeth. Talk about being in a compromising position.”

  She found it refreshing that he didn’t seem to take himself too seriously. “Well, Mom’s got too much pride to do something like that. But she does love to reminisce about the past. And if she likens you to a dog…” She shrugged. “Consider it a compliment. You’re her favorite breed.”

  “I have no idea what that means, but as Coop said last night, we are looking for some local talent to use in bit parts. If your mother can act, I might be able to find a place for her in the cast.”

  Jenna didn’t say anything. She couldn’t imagine her mother on television, but that might be her personal bias talking. She couldn’t wait to share this news with the other members of the Wine, Women and Words book club. At least, she hoped they were still on for tonight. Libby hadn’t mentioned canceling when they’d spoken that morning, but things might have changed with Cooper back in town.

  Jenna would call the other members as soon as she got home. She wondered what they’d make of the fact that she and Shane had attended the same college. And even more remarkable, he’d been there when her life went to hell.

  “Are we done here?” he asked.

  “Yes. I think so. Thank you. How’s your hand?”

  He rubbed a finger across the shiny strip. “Perfect.” He handed her the hammer. “I’m going to my car to see if I left my sunglasses on the seat. Do you want to meet me there after you lock up?”

  “Sure. I’ll be right there.”

  As she walked away, she felt that old, familiar pang—a mix of regret, deep sadness and wistfulness. How strange to run into Shane here after all these years. He’d been one of the most intriguing people she’d met in college. Dark, brooding, “Heathcliffesque” she remembered calling him to one of her friends.

  If not for what happened that night, she might have eventually gotten up the nerve to talk to him. Maybe. He’d interested her, but she’d been fully aware of the fact he was so not the kind of guy her dad would have wanted her to date. And she’d so valued her father’s opinion that when she saw Shane at the off-campus frat party, she’d immediately turned her attention to a handsome, clean-cut stranger.

  She never in a million years would have guessed he was Shane’s twin brother. She didn’t even believe Adam at first, but he knew so much about Shane, told the funniest stories. She’d let down her guard and had fun. Too much fun. Too many beers. And the last one was spiked with a new drug that was supposed to lower inhibitions. A date-rape drug, they called it. She hadn’t been on a date, but she had been raped.

  Old news. Ancient history. And she planned to keep it that way.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE CAR WAS SPACIOUS and new smelling. National Public Radio was playing on the radio, but Shane turned it off before stepping on the gas. She liked that. He had nice manners.

  “So, you’ve passed this stage of the fix-it game,” he said, driving slowly across the parking lot. “When will you open for business again?”

  “Hopefully this weekend. We posted one of our best weekends ever during the Memorial Day holiday. Then, suddenly, the water line broke. I’m just praying my young employees haven’t all found new jobs.”

  He stopped at the gate and got out to replace the cone. She watched him in the side mirror. He took extra care to make certain her hand-printed sign was visible.

  She still couldn’t quite get over the fact that he was the same Shane from college. He certainly looked different, although he was still gorgeous and intriguing.

  Warning bells went off in her head. Since when did intriguing men appeal to her? Never. She liked safe men. Like her old friend, Mac. There was nothing safe about this particular Bernese mountain dog. He had more of a Doberman look to her.

  She swallowed the giggle that bubbled up from her throat. Oh, God, she was becoming her mother. Next, she’d start carrying baby aspirin in her purse.

  Once he was back in the car, he resumed his questions about her business. “So, you were open for one weekend, and then your plumbing broke?”

  She coughed into her fist to hide her grin. Her mother referred to female ailments as “delicate plumbing problems.” “Walt—my plumber—said the line may have had a stress fracture from the last thaw. I looked into renting portable toilets in the interim, but the Health Department insisted we needed running water before we could reopen.”

  “If the plumber isn’t available, do you have someone else you could call to backfill the trench?”

  She thought a moment. “Mac, Libby’s brother, would probably do it, but I’m hoping Walt is back in town. He needs the money.” She explained about his daughter’s accident. “This has been tough on the family. I’m not sure they had insurance.”

  He shook his head. “I understand, but if he’s not around, Coop and I could help out.”

  She shifted in the seat to face him. “Why would you volunteer to do that? Somehow I don’t picture you or Cooper as the hands-on shovel types.”

  His ruddy complexion darkened a shade. “Like I told you, I learned a few things from my uncle. I’m no stranger to hard work.”

  That still didn’t answer her question as to why he was so interested in helping her. Maybe he felt sorry for her. Because of her past. The rape was probably the last thing he ever heard about her, and her stupid book of poetry probably hadn’t helped. He must regard her as some kind of charity case.

  She changed the subject. “Am I right in remembering that you’re from Minnesota? You said your parents are both gone, but you have a brother, right? I met him. He said you—”

  He cut her off. “Is this the right way? Coop claimed it was impossible to get lost around here, but then he told me about hiking for hours in the wrong direction, so I’m not putting much stock in what he says.”

  She remembered the day he was talking about. She’d been the idiot who had volunteered to pick up Coop and Libby at the trail’s end. They’d arrived over two hours late and dog dead tired.

  But apparently not too exhausted to fool around, she thought fighting back a grin. “Different area. And, yes, this is the right road. Do you like to hike?”

  “Me? Hike? Never tried it. Mostly I work.”

  “You look pretty fit for someone who doesn’t exercise.” She clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, nuts, that’s just the kind of too-
personal observation my mother tends to make—usually at my expense.”

  His casual shrug let her off the hook. “I’ll take it as a compliment. I have a gym at my house, and a pool. My mother died of colon cancer, and my dad had complications from a stroke. I try to take care of myself.”

  She couldn’t imagine losing her mother, too. She quickly turned to face forward again. “There’s the turn off for the Little Poke. I wonder if Mac is working today,” she said, idly.

  He took his foot off the gas. “Mac is Libby’s brother, right?”

  She nodded. “Short for Marshall Amos Coolidge McGannon. A combination of his father’s name and mother’s maiden name. His late wife’s name was Misty and she took the whole M thing to another level by naming their daughter Megan. Poor Mac was mortified, but he never denied that woman anything.”

  That woman. Shane read a wealth of content into her tone. Jenna hadn’t cared for her best friend’s late sister-in-law. Curious…

  “If you turn at the next corner,” she said, pointing to the right, “we can take the back way to my house. I’m anxious to get the glass ordered. Smart of you to suggest taking the exact measurements.”

  He shrugged. “No problem. Will my cell phone work at your house?”

  “Probably,” she said. “A lot of people in town have cell phones. I’ve resisted getting one because we don’t have reception at the Spot, but I’ve actually had some people tell me they can call out from the parking lot…if the azimuth of the sun is just right,” she added, grinning. “I invested in a Mystery Spot Web site last year. That pretty much gobbled up my new technology budget.”

  “Oh.” He made the turn down a street that lacked curb and gutter. And streetlights. “I should have checked you out on the Internet.”

  “It turned out pretty good I think. Lots of pictures, a couple interactive games and a bunch of scientific links for teachers to download. My dad would have liked it.” She sat forward, squinting. “Mom’s home. If you want to stop here, I’ll hop out.”

  He ignored the suggestion. He’d noticed that she’d returned the glasses she’d used to read the inspector’s paperwork to a case in her backpack after the man left. He’d assumed that meant she was farsighted, but maybe vanity kept her from wearing glasses all the time. He knew all about that, having worn glasses since the time he was five. Adam had perfect vision.

  “Listen, I love my mom to pieces—really, I do—but she’s not everybody’s cup of tea. If the trip down memory lane becomes torturous, feel free to make the first lame excuse that comes to mind and bail. Also, it’s probably wise to stay away from questions about health or ill—”

  She wasn’t able to complete the warning because a voice called from the porch with surprising force and clarity given the size of the woman shouting. “You’re back early. Who’s that with you? Oh, my Lord, is that the Bernese mountain dog?”

  Shane looked at Jenna, who blushed all the way to the roots of her red hair. “Mother,” she mumbled, using the three-syllable version of the word.

  She wouldn’t make eye contact with him but got out once he’d put the car in Park. “Mom, meet Shane Reynard. Shane, my mother, Bess Murphy.”

  The woman, who was wearing a linen pantsuit the color of weak tea with a ruby blouse and Jackson Pollockesque silk scarf at her neck, looked as if she’d just had tea with the governor. She gracefully floated down the steps, one hand out as if she expected him to kiss it.

  He quickly hopped out of the car to meet her.

  “Mary Margaret Murphy,” she corrected, shaking his hand as firmly as many men of his acquaintance. “That’s my stage name. I’ve never forgiven my late husband for giving me that bovine nickname. Now that’s all anybody calls me.”

  “It could be worse,” Jenna said. “In private, Dad used to call her Bessie.”

  Bess glared at her. “Watch it, young lady. I’ll…” She stopped. Frowning, she sighed. “Oh, Lord, I’ve run out of retributions. Now, she’s the one giving me an allowance.”

  “It’s called a budget, Mom.”

  “Well, we won’t have to worry about that once I start acting again, will we?”

  Shane looked at Jenna, whose expressive face showed nothing but concern. She didn’t say anything, however, and her mother started toward the house. “May I offer you a cup of coffee, Shane? You don’t mind if I call you by your first name, do you? I feel so old when I find myself using mister to address men my daughter’s age.”

  “Shane is fine. And I’d love a cup of coffee. I’m about a pint low. I’ll be right there. First I need to give Jenna the measurements for the new piece of glass.”

  Bess stopped and looked at Jenna. “Glass? What glass?”

  “There’s a broken window in Dizzy. Some kid—”

  Before she could finish, her mother cut her off. “Another expense. Just what we don’t need. Jenna, I’m beginning to think it’s time we sell that albatross and move on with our lives.”

  Shane had no trouble reading the shock in her daughter’s expression. Jenna obviously hadn’t been expecting that bombshell.

  Her mother disappeared into the house without waiting for a reply. Shane had to give the woman credit. Her exit was perfect dramatic timing. The audience would have gasped, as Jenna did, then been left with bated anticipation for the next scene.

  He grabbed the scrap of paper with the measurements, then locked the car and walked to where Jenna was standing.

  She took the paper without glancing at it. “Thank you.”

  “I take it that suggestion came out of the blue?”

  She shrugged. “It’s the first time she’s said the words, but there have been clues. Like the fact that she doesn’t want to work there anymore. Last year she took more sick days than any of the teens on my payroll. I think it’s safe to assume all this talk about Hollywood has rekindled her hopes of an acting career.”

  “You don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  She looked at him and frowned. “It’s like what you said about the inspector today. If acting was really her calling, shouldn’t she have done something to make it happen by now? She hasn’t auditioned for a single role since my dad died. What does that tell you?”

  “Maybe she’s still mourning.”

  She hesitated as if weighing her words carefully. “My father was a wonderful man, and I think Mom and Dad were very much in love the whole time they were married. But any time Mom would show an interest in trying out for a play or the summer dinner theater, something would come up—being shorthanded at the Spot, for instance—that kept her from doing it.”

  Shane sensed something in her voice that didn’t have to do with her mother. “Did he do the same thing about your writing?”

  “My writing.” Her laugh was brittle and edgy. “Dad believed everyone should have a hobby—his was the Mystery Spot—as long as it didn’t interfere with their real life’s work. I thought he was going to have a heart attack when I told him I was attending a liberal arts college instead of going to the School of Mines.”

  “My father wanted me to go into law,” he said.

  Neither said anything for a moment. Long enough for Shane to make an impulsive decision he knew he’d regret later. But she looked so lost and blue, as if the marvelous possibilities of the past were shadows of butterflies shifting on the breeze out of reach. “Listen, I know that summer is your busy season, but I was hoping to hire someone local to help me with the scripts Cooper and I are supposed to be writing. Are you interested?”

  Coop had been the first to suggest hiring her, but Shane had dismissed the idea as mildly insane and ridiculously masochistic given what his brother did to her and knowing how he’d once felt about her. “A few hours a day. I pay really well. And this would be a chance to prove that your dad was wrong.”

  She looked at him a second, then took a deep breath, let it out and turned toward the house. “I need to get this glass ordered. Are you coming in?”

  So much for his offer. Either the idea w
as too crazy to warrant a response or she didn’t think he was serious. And maybe he was nuts to consider it. The less he had to do with her, the less chance of her putting together what happened that night before he could make amends.

  But he liked being around her, damn it. He still missed the girl she’d been, and had been tempted by the glimpses of that girl he’d caught this morning. Something he could easily become addicted to.

  He followed after her.

  “Mom, did Libby call again?” she asked, holding the door for Shane.

  “Yes. I just listened to the message. She wants to know if they could have book club here, instead of at her house.”

  “Hmm…is that okay with you?”

  Bess, who held a thick album crushed to her chest like a holy tablet, motioned with her chin for Shane to join her. “Yes, of course. I’ll stay upstairs with Alec and Vanna.”

  “Trebec and White,” Jenna supplied as he walked past her. “Game shows.” She’d stopped in the foyer beside a marble-topped table where an old-fashioned phone shared space with an answering machine. On odd mix of old and new, he thought.

  “Got it.”

  Her mother handed him the album, then pressed him to sit on the overstuffed sofa. “I’ll be right back,” she promised, regally sashaying into the adjoining kitchen.

  He looked around. White walls with wallpaper wainscot that looked a bit past its prime. Brass lamps and collage frames conspired to give the place a 1980s sitcom studio set feel.

  She returned with two flowery mugs on a tray with a matching ceramic cream and sugar bowl made to look like a cow and calf. “You look familiar, Shane,” she said, sitting beside him. “Have we met?”

  Not the question Shane had expected. A history of her acting accomplishments, maybe. Or inquiries about Coop and the TV project. Not an intense scrutiny that made him reach for his sunglasses. Damn, he’d left them in the car again. “I don’t think so.”