Right after Dottie died, before he’d met Serena.
Paul skimmed a few more paragraphs, his body relaxed in the executive chair behind his large oak desk. The large window behind him overlooked Puget Sound, where the whitecaps were visible.
Jonas felt most at home in a hospital or clinic situation, but even he had to admit his brother had a great office.
There’d been a gale last night, still evident in the roiling water far below.
Jonas had tried to not worry about Serena and Pepé. They weren’t his responsibility.
He’d been called into the hospital to cover the night shift. It didn’t escape him that if he’d been home all night, he might have ended up back at Serena’s. To check on them—make sure the pipes weren’t freezing.
“Are you sure you’re ready to do this? You’ve been so determined to get that house back.” Paul’s gaze was clear, but his expression neutral. Full lawyer-mode.
“It’s their home now. I have a house, and Dottie’s left me a good sum, as you know. In a few years I’ll build a place farther out from town, with a little extra land. It’s not important where.”
Not anymore.
Paul stared at him. Jonas fought the urge to squirm under his scrutiny. Paul didn’t know everything, much as he thought he did.
“What?”
“I got the impression you and Serena had something between you.”
“Nothing that’s going to last.”
“Is it because of Pepé?”
Jonas fought the urge to punch the smug look off Paul’s face.
“I’m not ready for a family, Paul.”
“Why not? You’ve got your dream orders back here. You can finish up your entire career on Whidbey. If you had a family, they wouldn’t have to move.”
“Being a father isn’t in my DNA.” Visions of the children he’d been unable to save flashed in front of him. His body became hot and then cold, and he started to shiver.
“Want to tell me about it?”
“No.”
Paul nodded. “Okay.” Back to lawyer business, Paul shoved the papers across the table toward Jonas.
“Sign them where my paralegal’s put the flags. Initial the bottom of each page. When you’re ready, we’ll place an ad in the local paper.”
“I don’t want an ad in the paper. I want to give the land to Serena.” He shrugged. “I used the money I saved on my last two deployments to buy the land, and it wasn’t a huge expense, since most of it’s unworkable and too uneven to put a house on.” He took the sheaf of papers and the manila folder and got up to leave.
“Jonas.”
He turned back toward his older brother. The boss of their clan. “What?”
“If you won’t talk to me, you should talk to someone. Maybe even Serena. Let her know why you aren’t going for the prize here.”
“Since when did you become an expert in love?”
Paul’s eyes widened at the same moment Jonas realized what he’d said.
Son of a bitch.
“Seems to me you’re earning your own expertise in that area, little bro.”
Jonas stared at Paul for at least a minute before he turned and left. Sometimes his brothers knew him too well.
* * *
SERENA HAD TO push the speed limit the entire way back to the island, but somehow she dropped off Emily and was back at the farmhouse with a half hour to spare before she had to get Pepé.
“Go run off some steam, boy,” she admonished Ronald, who wanted to sniff and inspect every little purchase she hauled into the house.
Back at the SUV she leaned into the back and tugged on a huge bag of dog food. It was Ronald’s favorite—a salmon-and-potato mix that did wonders for his coat, which was prone to skin ailments on lesser-quality food.
“Argh.” She sounded like a darned pirate, but the bag was heavy. As she started to carry it, she heard a familiar gait on the gravel behind her.
“I’ll get it.”
She didn’t need to turn around to know it was Jonas.
Still, her heart pounded and her hands shook in a combination of surprise and relief. Surprise that he was here. And relief, too, that he was here, that she’d immediately known it was Jonas. She hadn’t lied to him or Emily—she felt safe here. During the day. At night, she got a little nervous, but since the sheriff’s department and city police had rounded up the meth ring, the incidents of petty crime on island had dwindled.
“Sorry. I left my truck at the bottom of the drive and walked up.”
“Oh.” She stared at him. He looked too damn good. She knew they’d never make a go of it, not with his aversion to family life and future children. It didn’t stop her from reacting to his sheer sensuality.
You’ll always react to him.
“Here, I’ll get the dog food.” He reached around her and heaved the sack onto his shoulder as though it were a pillow instead of forty pounds.
“Thanks.” She followed him to the front porch where he turned to her.
“Where to?”
“You can set it here. I can get it into the pantry myself.”
He didn’t argue, which should have been her first clue that this wasn’t going to be a pleasant visit.
Nor were they going to jump into bed. Even if they could, she had to leave to pick up Pepé in twenty minutes.
What was wrong with her? Why was she thinking of making love to Jonas when they had no future and he didn’t care enough to bend his rules for her and Pepé.
The bag landed on the porch with a thud. Jonas came back down the three steps and stood in front of her.
“I came to let you know why I can’t be with you, Serena.”
“You’ve already been pretty clear on that, Jonas.”
She felt the heat of embarrassment, then told herself that no, she wasn’t going to feel ashamed for the way she’d been with Jonas. How she felt about him.
“I haven’t been totally honest,” he muttered.
“Do you want to come in? I can make you a quick cup of coffee before I have to get Pepé.”
“No, this won’t take long.”
Oh.
He looked past her, at some point in the canopy of the fir trees that made up most of the woods in front of the house.
“I lost two kids when I was assigned downrange.”
“What do you mean?”
“Two children came in with injuries from a bombing. I’d saved dozens with the same wounds. It’s never easy, or a sure thing, but they should have lived.”
“They didn’t?”
“No.”
“I’m so sorry, Jonas.”
He shrugged. “So am I. PTSD and nightmares is part of the coming-home experience. I know that. Hell, I’m trained to treat it. Now that I’ve been dealing with it myself, I’ve had to come to terms with who I really am inside. I’m a loner, Serena, and family life isn’t in the cards for me.”
She watched him. No way was she going to say something soothing or nice to let him off the hook.
“Hasn’t anyone ever done something nice for you, Jonas?”
“Of course they have. What does that have to do with this?”
“Your lack of trust, not to mention your assumption that I have to be in a relationship that’s headed somewhere permanent, astounds me.”
“You’re not the friends-with-benefits type, Serena.”
“You’re so sure about that?”
They stood toe-to-toe, eyes locked, chests rising and falling as they breathed. Serena felt as if she was gasping for air while Jonas looked angrier than she’d ever seen him—maybe even more than the night she attacked the heroin addict.
The sexual energy between them flared as quickly as a spark on dry kindling.
Do. Not. Make. A. Move.
She ordered herself to hang tight, not to react to the desire that pulsed through her.
Jonas’s eyes flashed a warning and he lowered his head. Serena closed her eyes in anticipation of his lips on hers.
“I can’t do this, Serena.” His hot breath registered on her mouth at the same moment she heard the crunch of gravel under his boots.
She opened her eyes in time to see his retreating back as he walked to his Jeep.
Jonas left her standing at the front door of the farmhouse.
She wanted to scream at him for being such a damned coward. But that wasn’t going to change anything.
Serena knew what she had to do.
* * *
THREE DAYS BEFORE Christmas the Scott law office was decked out with tasteful Northwest-inspired decorations. From the cedar garland around the front entry to the beautiful noble fir in the reception area, the holiday couldn’t be denied.
That merry sentiment wasn’t reflected in the atmosphere in Paul’s office, however. Serena stood at his desk while she tried to explain her logic to him.
“I had to tell you, because you’re my boss, even if I haven’t started coming into the office yet.” Paul had been eager for Serena to begin work, so he’d sent some case files home for her to look at.
She’d taken advantage of the entrée to get some of her personal legal work taken care of.
“I was hoping that if I draw up the papers, you’ll look them over for me, for accuracy. It’s to show my goodwill in all of this, and to protect Jonas.”
Paul Scott was as inscrutable as Jonas. It had to be a family trait.
“Let me get this straight. You want to gift the house to Jonas, yet continue to rent it from him?”
She nodded. “Yes. But only for twelve months. I don’t want to move Pepé too soon. We might stay in the area, at which point I’ll find us a place in town. Something more modern that won’t require so much creativity to maintain.” She smiled, hoping Paul would laugh.
He didn’t. “What if Jonas won’t take it from you?”
“Of course he will, Paul. He wants the house so badly he can taste it.” Just not with her and Pepé in it.
As quickly as the hope that she and Jonas might have a future had flared, it had been doused with their last conversation. And that horrible, awful almost-kiss.
Paul quickly read over her papers. “It’s all okay from a legal standpoint, Serena.”
“But?”
Paul leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk.
“I trust my gut. My gut says there’s something more than friendship between you and Jonas. Dottie wouldn’t have willed the house to you simply because of the biological ties.”
She nodded again. “I know.” It had become so painfully obvious to her these past several weeks. Dottie had known exactly what she was doing. “It hasn’t worked out the way she’d hoped, however.”
How could Serena not have seen it more clearly when she’d walked in on Jonas in the clinic before Thanksgiving?
“Dottie was going to move out and leave you the house, you know.”
Serena’s head jerked back. “What?”
Paul gave a sharp nod. “She came in here and told me that she’d been thinking about moving into town, to a smaller ranch-style town house or condo. When I asked her about the house, she was vague. Of course I assumed she was going to leave it for Jonas. Now I know it was for you—and Pepé. And...ultimately, for Jonas, too.”
“Did Dottie always play the matchmaker in your family?”
Paul laughed. “No, not so obviously. But she didn’t have a problem speaking up when she saw any of us making a mistake. She made it known loud and clear that I’d better get off my high horse and ask Mary to marry me. Dottie was right—if I’d waited, Mary would have taken a position on the east coast and our chances of pulling off a relationship could have died.”
“I’m glad you listened to her.” And she was. Mary and Paul were a wonderful couple. “But Dottie had no way of knowing how Jonas and I would get along. It was presumptuous of her to assume we’d be friends.” Much less lovers.
Saving the ache in her own gut for some time with Ben & Jerry’s later, Serena stood up. “So you’ll help me do this, Paul?”
“I won’t stop you, Serena.”
“And our discussion is private.”
“Attorney-client privilege.” He stood up, as well, ending the serious discussion.
“What are your holiday plans, Serena?”
“Pepé and I are going to have our usual quiet Christmas Eve. Then Santa will come, and Pepé will open his gifts on Christmas morning. My friend Emily is joining us on Christmas Day. You?”
“Oh, the usual Scott craziness. If you think the cookie-baking party was insane, you should see Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Total mayhem. You know we’d love to have you and Pepé out on Christmas Eve, Serena.”
“I appreciate it, Paul, and maybe that will be more feasible in the future. Not this year.”
“I understand.”
“Merry Christmas.” She turned and left his office.
As she sat at her desk in the office the firm had assigned her, she had to admit that her heart felt heavier than it had since Phil’s death. It upset her that she was having a hard time shaking off a man she’d really only known for a month or so.
They’d only made love that one time. Okay, that one day, several times.
The legalese in the document was easy enough and she printed out a copy for Paul, which she left in his in-box on her way out.
Whidbey Island
Two days before Christmas
WHEN SERENA PULLED up to the house with Pepé she tried not to cry. They got out of the car and let Ronald out to romp. As she stepped into the entryway she tried to imagine not living here anymore.
It would soon be reality. By next summer, for sure.
It broke her heart. This had become their home, their destiny.
“Go get your chores done, mi hijo, and I’ll get supper started after a bit. We’ll go down and feed the alpaca later, too.”
“Can I have a cookie first?” Pepé was a bottomless pit.
“Sure thing. I made a batch of Dottie’s oatmeal chocolate-chip.” Her stomach twisted as she uttered her reply. Dottie’s home had become their home, too.
She’d learned that destiny rarely worked out as mere mortals expected. The house belonged to Jonas.
Making a cup of coffee, she looked out the window toward the alpaca barn and the area where Jonas had tenderly held her after she’d fallen from her struggle with the intruder. She’d known security and safety in Jonas’s arms.
It hadn’t been enough. Not for him.
She and Pepé deserved nothing less than 100 percent of any man’s commitment.
She grasped the handle of the small pitcher of half-and-half she kept on the top shelf of the refrigerator and poured it into thecoffee. The ceramic piece was a leftover from Dottie’s many knickknacks and pantry items.
She couldn’t stay in the house with all the memories of Dottie, and Dottie’s romantic dreams for her and Jonas. The house had Jonas’s memories stamped all over it. Dottie was her biological aunt, yes, but more importantly, she’d been a mother to Jonas and his brothers for over thirty years. Dottie would understand her decision.
She sat at the kitchen table and sorted through the mail.
A large official envelope from the Scott legal office was folded in half in the mailbox, along with an assortment of Christmas cards, mostly from her family and friends in Texas. Serena frowned. She didn’t remember having a copy of the lease and house deed sent here; she’d left her copies in her desk at the office.
Probably just Paul being thorough.
She opened the envelope and pulled out the documents. But they didn’t have her address on them. In fact, they weren’t the house deed and her rental agreement.
They were deeds to the land lots that surrounded the farm.
Serena stood up, took the documents to the woodstove and opened the cold iron door. She shoved the legal papers in with the poker, trying to stoke up some grim satisfaction at crushing Jonas’s guilt offering.
It wasn’t working.
* * *
JONAS STARED AT the legal documents the postman had pushed through the mail slot in his front door. When he’d bent down to pick them up after work, he’d thought they were copies of the land deeds he’d sent Serena.
He wished he’d never opened the envelope.
He finally had it. The deed to the house. With an attached rental agreement from Serena.
He’d fought for this for the past six months. Where was the elation, the satisfaction? Where was his enthusiasm for all the renovations he’d hoped to accomplish?
He held the deed in his shaking hands.
Realization dawned. Chagrin, regret and anger at his sheer stupidity raged through him.
He didn’t want the house. It didn’t mean anything to him anymore. Not without the right family in it.
He wanted Serena. Needed her.
Pepé, too.
“Who am I kidding?” He spoke to his empty town house.
He loved her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Whidbey Island
December 1945
“DOTTIE, TAKE THIS milk and toast in to your father.” She stood at the sink as she washed their breakfast dishes.
“Isn’t he ever going to eat with us at the table, Momma?” Sarah agreed with Dottie; she wanted Henry to get out of the bedroom more.
“Shush. He’ll join us when he’s stronger.”
Sarah waited until Dottie was out of the kitchen before she sagged against their small refrigerator.
Since his arrival home two weeks ago, Henry hadn’t said so much as one word about what he’d been through, or what he wanted to do now. He was terribly thin, but her cooking and Dottie’s cheer seemed to improve his appetite. Sarah was relieved to see the color creep back into his skin, too.
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