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The Stranger in Her Bed

Page 26

by Janet Chapman


  "Are your brothers coming with him?"

  She nodded.

  Ethan started digging again.

  "I won't let them feed your guts to the wolves."

  He said nothing, just continued digging, until he finally drove the shovel into the pile of dirt, then turned and picked up Bear. He dropped to his knees and carefully lowered the dog into the hole he'd made, then lifted the shovel again.

  Anna flinched when the first shovel of dirt dropped in the grave, and she said a quiet prayer that Bear and Gramps were united again, happy as two old ducks in a frog pond.

  Ethan finally patted down the shallow mound, wiped his brow as he leaned on the shovel, and stared at the grave. "We should get a dog," he said. "A Lab like Bear."

  Anna slipped her hand into his.

  He squeezed her fingers. "Are you ready to go see what Samuel hid in his stash?"

  "I want to be the one to go down and get it," she said, leading him by the hand through the gate. "So I can see the cavity."

  They climbed back in the truck in silence, drove home, and Ethan held the spotlight while Anna started down the ladder into the well. She stopped three rungs down and looked up at him. "Ah… it's too early in the season for spiders to be out, isn't it?"

  He nodded. "I didn't see any earlier."

  She continued down, forcing herself not to look too closely at the rocks lining the well, but when she saw the cavity she forgot all about watching for creepy critters. "Wow," she said, staring into the niche. "It's a work of art. The rocks look like each one was expertly cut to fit."

  "It's the perfect hiding spot," Ethan said, lying on his belly to better shine the light toward the cavity.

  "Gramps must have made this when the well dried up and he had to have a new one drilled."

  "Can you hand the tin up to me without losing your balance?"

  "I have perfect balance," she scoffed, only to groan when she tried to pick up the tin. "Good Lord, it's heavy."

  Ethan chuckled and set the light on the ground beside him in order to reach down to her. "Maybe it's full of gold."

  Anna worked the tin out of the cavity, leaned her hips into the ladder, then hefted the tin over her head. Its weight suddenly disappeared and the spotlight beam reappeared, filling the well with light again.

  "Take this to see how deep the cavity is and make sure there's nothing else inside."

  Anna took the light and aimed it into the hole. "It's only big enough for that tin, and it's empty. "

  Ethan took the spotlight she held up to him, then held the top of the ladder. "Okay, come on up."

  She was up the ladder and into the sunshine in the blink of an eye. Ethan picked up the tin and they walked to the house and went inside, where he set it on the kitchen table.

  "Any guesses why it's so heavy?" he asked as they eyed the dented, rusty old tin.

  "Maybe more journals?"

  Ethan snorted. "Or the rare parts to fix that old saw."

  Anna rubbed her sweating palms on her pants, then reached out and tried to pry off the lid— but it wouldn't budge. Ethan got a butter knife from the drawer, and methodically worked it around the edge of the lid, slowly lifting it off one side and then the other, until it popped free and went skidding across the table.

  They both leaned forward to peer inside.

  Anna groaned. "They are engine parts."

  "And more!" Ethan reached in and pulled out a thick sheaf of papers, tore open the plastic they were wrapped in, and began leafing through them. "These look like Samuel's important papers: his marriage license, birth and death certificates, deeds. Here's your birth certificate," he said, holding it up. "Abigail Anna Fox," he read before handing it to her. "And here's the original sales agreement with Joshua Coots," he said, also separating it from the pile.

  Anna set down her birth certificate and started pulling out the engine parts. She found another box in the bottom of the tin, this one made of a sturdier metal. The lid came off easily, and she sucked in her breath.

  "Grammy's wedding ring," she whispered, pulling it out. She slipped it onto her finger and then stirred through the other stuff in the box. "What are these?" she asked, holding up a little plastic bag of tiny white stones.

  "Baby teeth," Ethan said with a laugh, taking them from her. He turned the bag in his hand. "Your baby teeth," he clarified, showing her the name written in ink on the back.

  Anna reached in the smaller box again and pulled out a locket, which she opened to find her baby picture inside, next to a picture of a very young Madeline Fox. "I vaguely remember this," she said, holding it up for Ethan to see. "It was Grammy's. She died when I was five, and I don't remember ever seeing it after that."

  "There's a small notebook in here." Ethan pulled it out and opened it to the first page. "This seems to be the first journal Samuel started. It appears he's explaining why he called your father." He closed the delicate old book and handed it to her. "It's going to be hard reading, Anna," he warned.

  She went to reach for the book, but instead covered her mouth when she let out a huge yawn.

  Ethan chuckled and set the book down. "All this stuff will be right here when we wake up," he said, taking her hand and leading her toward the stairs. "The last twenty-four hours have been hell. I'm locking the doors and we're taking a long nap."

  When Ethan appeared in the bedroom two minutes later, his own yawn quickly turned to a look of obvious disgust. "When are you going to stop wearing those damn pajamas?"

  "Just as soon as you admit that you love me."

  That certainly wiped the scowl off his face. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped, and Anna wasn't sure, but the poor man appeared to stop breathing. She buttoned the top button on her pajamas, pulled back the comforter, and crawled into bed, facing the wall so he wouldn't see her smile.

  And when she woke up later that afternoon, she was still wearing her smile— and her pajamas.

  * * *

  Anna padded downstairs, her nose following the smell of frying bacon, and walked into a crowded kitchen.

  "Daddy!" she yelped.

  He stood and swept her into a hug so fierce that she squeaked. "Ah, bébé." He leaned back and looked her straight in the eye, his own gleaming with unshed tears. "You look like hell."

  Anna kissed his cheek and hugged him tightly. "Daddy," she whispered.

  He finally set her on her feet and turned with his arm around her. "Calm your mama," he said, nudging her toward Claire. "You've sent her in a tailspin, asking her to plan your wedding in only three weeks, in America no less."

  Anna stepped into Claire's outstretched arms. "Thank you for everything," she whispered, hugging her tightly.

  Someone cleared their throat, and Anna turned to see Ethan standing by the stove, a spatula in his hand and a towel tucked in his belt as an apron. "Ah… Daddy, Claire, this is Ethan Knight," Anna said, her face prickling with heat.

  "We've met," Claire said with a warm smile to Ethan, taking Anna's hand and grabbing a notebook off the table as she led her into the living room. "Come, we'll start on the guest list and leave the men to cook supper."

  Anna looked helplessly over her shoulder at Ethan.

  "When are your sons arriving?" she heard him ask her father as he turned back to the stove.

  "In the morning," André said as he began rolling up his sleeves. "Jean-Paul and Damon are especially anxious to see you again, they told me."

  "He's beautiful," Claire whispered once they were out of earshot. She settled Anna on the couch and sat down beside her. "So tall and strong and handsome. Now I understand your fascination with him."

  "He didn't look like that eighteen years ago." Anna leaned over to peer into the kitchen.

  Claire pulled her back upright, only to suddenly notice what she was wearing. "Pajamas?" she said, arching one perfectly plucked eyebrow.

  Anna sighed and leaned back against the couch. "It's a long story," she said. "I have three weeks to get him to admit he loves me."

&n

bsp; The other eyebrow also arched. "You told me on the phone that the wedding was his idea."

  "It was. And he definitely wants us to get married. I just don't think he's quite ready to admit why. We're like oil and vinegar most of the time," she said, breaking into a huge grin. "But when you shake us up real good, the combination is heavenly." She shrugged, taking the notepad from Claire. "You taught me subtlety, so I'm trying it."

  "Until you finally lose your patience and smack him with a frying pan?"

  "I've been leaning more toward handcuffs," Anna said with another sigh. "Eighteen years is a long time to be patient."

  Claire gave a laugh and hugged Anna to her. "Don't you worry, bébé, he'll come around. Just the fact that he's still here, despite knowing the boys are arriving tomorrow, means he must love you very, very much."

  Claire still called Anna's brothers boys, though they were grown men rugged enough to worry a small army. "They better not try anything," she warned, "or I'll take a shotgun to all four of them."

  "My, my, such fierceness. You love him very much, no?"

  Anna gave Claire a desperate look. "Yes. And I need him to say the words before I walk down that aisle. It doesn't matter that I know he loves me; I need to hear it from him."

  "You will," Claire said with brisk assurance, taking back the notebook and pulling the pen out of the wire binding. "If the pajamas don't work, I'll give you my wedding present early. That should do the trick. Now, give me the names of his family, and who you want to be in your wedding party."

  "I want Ethan's niece, Delaney, to be my maid of honor," Anna said, leaning forward as Claire began to write. "She's eleven, and she's adorable."

  They spent the rest of the afternoon roughing out a wedding plan, stopping only to eat. After dinner, Ethan took André on a tour of Fox Run and Claire and Anna went back to work, filling most of the pages in Claire's little notebook. And by ten o'clock that evening, Ethan retired to his old cabin across camp, André and Claire took Anna's bedroom, and Anna curled up on the couch with Charlie the chickadee perched on the lamp shade over her head. Despite how aggravating her brothers could be, Anna couldn't wait to be back in the bosom of her entire family.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Two and a half weeks later— a mere three days before her wedding, to be exact— Anna was impressed by how well things were going, especially with her brothers and Ethan. The fact that Loon Cove Lumber had been torched because of her may have had something to do with her family's stellar behavior, but Anna liked to think the Knight and Segee men had more than just her in common as the seven brothers joined forces to get Loon Cove's two saws up and running again.

  Grady and her daddy had instantly hit it off, and were spending their days hitting every trout brook between Oak Grove and the Canadian border. They hadn't, however, been bringing home any fish— which meant either the trout weren't biting yet or the two aging loggers spent more time talking about the old days than paying attention to their fishing lines.

  The Knight and Segee women had certainly come together with a bang, and the wedding plans were moving along at warp speed. Delaney was excited to be Anna's maid of honor, though Anna suspected the young girl wanted to wear nylons and two-inch heels nearly as much as she wanted her uncle Ethan to get married.

  As for her mother, Anna had actually been looking forward to finally seeing her again after all these years, and had gone with Ethan to Penny Bryant's the day Madeline was supposed to arrive. There they had been presented with the news that Madeline— and husband number eight— had suddenly decided a cruise to Brazil was more appealing than visiting Maine during mud season. Anna had been disappointed but not all that surprised, considering Madeline hadn't even made it to Gramps's funeral— thereby adding yet another chapter to her legend.

  By day, Fox Run was overflowing with Segees, but at night two of Anna's brothers, along with their wives and children, stayed at Penny Bryant's bed-and-breakfast. Jean-Paul and his wife, Michelin, along with their four children, had commandeered all the remaining bedrooms upstairs. Damon had insisted on bunking with Ethan in his cabin, and Anna was stretched out on the couch with Charlie— who'd grown quite plump along with his buddies, since everyone had gotten in the habit of carrying birdseed in their pockets.

  So everything was good— except Ethan still hadn't said the words she so desperately needed to hear.

  Was the man really that stubborn? Or that scared?

  Or maybe Ethan wanted to tell her that he loved her but hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise since her family's invasion.

  Anna bolted into a sitting position, causing Charlie to flutter away in surprise. That was it! She just needed to get Ethan alone long enough for him to say that he loved her so much, he couldn't imagine his life without her. And dammit, she wanted him to ask her to marry him.

  Anna rummaged around under the couch for the gaily wrapped little box Claire had given her that morning. Clutching it to her chest, she ran over and grabbed her raincoat hanging by the front door, ran into the bathroom and tore off her flannel pajamas, and slipped into the beautiful wedding present. She covered it up with the raincoat, went into the kitchen and put on her sneakers, then snuck out the back door.

  Now she just had to figure out how to get Ethan out of his cabin without waking his self-appointed watchdog.

  Anna tiptoed off the porch and headed toward Ethan's cabin, coming to an abrupt halt when a movement caught her eye over by the small fleet of trucks parked up near the saw shed.

  Holy smokes, her ghost was back!

  She slowly inched backward along the side of the house, never once taking her eyes off the shadow as it silently moved around her SUV. She suddenly felt the shovel leaning against the house and, gripping it in both hands, ducked down and ran toward the saw shed, going from one large tree to another to cover her progress. By God, if Ronald Briggs was out on bail and looking for revenge, she'd make the bastard wish he'd broken both legs when he'd fallen down that well.

  Darting behind a large tree, Anna momentarily lost sight of her intruder. Using her trick of focusing only on movement, she slowly let her gaze scan the area around the parked vehicles. And there— just in front of her SUV— something dark moved in the shadows.

  Crouching low again, she crept up to the parked trucks, then slowly made her way between her SUV and Jean-Paul's pickup. The shadow fluttered, and she raised the shovel and lunged, swinging it in a low arc to cut him off at the knees.

  Just as the shovel connected with the boneless apparition, Anna realized it was a jacket hanging from a branch. A band of steel suddenly came down over her arms, pinning them to her sides and lifting her off her feet just as a large hand covered her mouth, trapping her scream.

  "You bloodthirsty little witch," Ethan whispered in her ear.

  "Ethmmp!" she muttered, squirming to get free.

  He tossed her over his shoulder, effectively knocking the air from her lungs.

  "You scared the hell out of me!" she hissed once she got her breath back. She grabbed his belt and gave a hard tug. "You set me up with that jacket hanging on a branch. What are you doing out here?"

  There was a soft click of a truck door opening and a light suddenly came on. Ethan bent over and set her down in the rear of her truck. "I might ask you the same question."

  She blinked against the brightness of the interior light, then pulled the bottom edges of her raincoat together and straightened her belt. "I was on my way to your cabin to get you. When I saw someone moving around over here, I thought Ronald Briggs had gotten out on bail and come back."

  Ethan folded his arms over his very broad, very masculine chest. "Why am I not surprised that instead of alerting a camp full of men, you grabbed a shovel and went after him all by yourself? And what were you coming to get me for?"

  "I— I wanted to talk to you," she whispered, looking down so she'd quit noticing how big and strong and beautiful he was.

  "About…?"

  Anna suddenly forgot wh
at she'd wanted to talk about when she foolishly glanced up again and found him looking ready to pounce, his eyes dark with… Lord, she hoped it was lust. He really was big and strong and… and… beautiful. It had been nearly three weeks since she'd felt his naked skin rubbing against her naked skin, or felt him deep… or…

  "Dammit, I love you!" he growled. "Take off your clothes."

  She gaped at him, utterly speechless.

  "Anna, if I don't get you naked beneath me in the next sixty seconds, I swear we're both going for a swim in the lake."

  "I love you, too." She kicked off her sneakers and crawled into the back of her truck, only to find it full of blankets and pillows. "I see you've given this some thought."

 
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