“If she won’t help herself, she’s tied your hands behind your back. Let her go.” Roger put a hand on Jordan’s shoulder to stop his pacing. “Get out while you still can.”
Jordan swallowed, and didn’t care if complete misery was apparent on his face. “What if it’s too late?”
“It’s never too late.”
****
Nicholas waved, and Mel made her way through the lunchtime crowd at The Hungry Belly. He took in the jeans she’d cut off at mid-thigh, her pink t-shirt and flip-flops, but he didn’t say anything. She took the seat across from him and gripped his hand in both of hers.
“Nicholas, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Lines of fatigue etched his face, making him look forty instead of twenty-five. She didn’t have the guts to tell him this was her fault. His dream, his golden career opportunity, lay in ashes because of her. At that moment, she didn’t know who she despised more, Mick or herself.
“What are you going to do now?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Steven’s pulling out. Schuster won’t be coming to Cedar Valley.” They waited while the waitress put sandwiches and glasses of iced tea on the table. “I ordered you a turkey sandwich,” Nicholas said. “Isn’t that what you usually get?”
“Yes, thanks.” She took a bite of her sandwich and looked up when he cleared his throat.
“Who is that?” he asked, nodding toward the door.
Yvonne stood in the door, looking perfect in tight black shorts and high heels. Long, golden hair draped over one shoulder as she sauntered over, and Mel silently thanked Nicholas for choosing a small table.
“I’m Yvonne Quinn.” She held out a hand. “You must be Nicholas Barnett.”
They shook hands. “Sisters?” he asked, looking from one to the other.
Mel shrugged and looked at Yvonne, angry that her sister chose now to make a scene. “What do you want?”
“That was quite a disappearing act yesterday,” Yvonne said with a sultry smile. “One could almost guess you were at a certain man’s house.”
Mel raised her eyebrows.
“I heard you were slinking back to Denver with your tail between your legs.” Yvonne waited for her to confirm the accusation, but Mel didn’t say a word.
“Considering you’re the main topic of town gossip, again, I bet some people will be disappointed when you leave. Who will they have to talk about? Meanwhile, I think a certain man will need a little extra TLC. Good thing I’ll be here.” Yvonne winked, turned on her heel and walked away.
Mel could hear her sister’s laugh over the noise of the crowd.
“What was that about?” Nicholas asked.
Mel shook her head. “You don’t want to know.”
****
Jordan hadn’t invited her to stay, so after lunch Mel picked up Charm. There was a wall between her and Jordan. He knew she was holding out, but what could she do? She stopped at Last Chance to update Sara on the investigation, but Lyle was there when Mel walked in. Seeing them together warmed her heart, then cold reality hit her in the face. Nothing stayed secret in the Valley. Nothing.
Time for her to start packing.
“Watch the counter, will you?” Sara asked. “I want to show you something.” A minute later, she brought a large bag from the back room. “I don’t want anyone to see.”
“Like who?” Mel looked around the store. A few women browsed, and a girl about thirteen-years-old put on a puppet show for a small boy in the play area.
Sara nodded toward the girl. “It’s Carley’s birthday present.” She took out a forensics kit, a magic kit, and a small black box.
“Impressive,” Lyle said.
“It even has night-vision goggles,” Sara said. “I didn’t know what else to get her, and the magic kit didn’t seem like enough. She’s into all those crime shows and stuff. Do you think she’ll like them?”
“Absolutely.” Mel realized she’d forgotten about Carley’s birthday party on Saturday, the one she promised to help with. Would Steven let her stay that long?
Sara studied her with raised eyebrows. “Are you okay?”
“I just realized I haven’t bought Carley a gift. What were you saying?”
“That she’s always into the newest craze. Two nights ago, she was decked out in black from top to bottom, some kind of spy thing, I guess. Last month it was eating bugs.”
“Fear Factor.”
“Right. I told her she’d change her mind before her birthday, but she insisted.”
They both turned as the door chime sounded and an old woman walked in.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Blankenship,” Sara said. “Can I make you some tea?”
“That would be wonderful, dear.” The old woman teetered to the counter. “Did you get the picture frame I wanted?”
“It’s in back. I’ll get it.” Sara folded the bag and headed to the back.
“Sara,” Mel called. “Did you say Carley was here two nights ago?”
“Uh-huh, she got homesick, and the camp sent her home.” Sara disappeared into the storage room. A few minutes later, with Mrs. Blankenship settled at a table with her tea and picture frame, Sara came back.
“You’re still helping with her party, right?”
Mel nodded. Carley would never understand if she left for Denver before the party. If Steven really wanted her back, he could wait a few days. Leaving Sara would be hard. They’d completed her budget, and she would continue to host hiking tours. At least Yvonne was here to help. The feeling of gratitude was so foreign in conjunction Yvonne, it took Mel by surprise, but there it was. “Is Carley home now?”
“No, I talked her into staying the night with a friend. Eric, too.” Sara frowned. “I got a call from my lawyer. We’re meeting Carl and his lawyer this afternoon, and I don’t want the kids to know.”
“What now? Is he trying to squeeze more from the store?”
“Probably,” Lyle, who’d been sitting quietly on stool, spoke up.
“Now he’s saying I’m an unfit mother, and he wants custody of the kids. He acts like they’re not even alive, then he files for custody. Those kids are my life. I can’t let him take them away.”
“Do you think he really wants them, or is he going after something else and using them to get it?”
Sara leaned against the counter and stared at the ceiling. “I wish I knew.”
****
Back at the cabin, Mel wondered if Mick had contacted Carley while Mel had been in Denver. Was he still here, hiding in someone’s trailer or one of those small cabins in the hills?
When her cell phone rang, Steven’s voice was unmistakable. “I just got off the phone with Inspector Newcastle. He doesn’t need you.”
“I really need to stay here,” she said quickly. “Nicholas needs—”
“I don’t give a damn what Nicholas needs. Shirley’s booked you on a flight home tomorrow afternoon.”
“What about the contracts we’ve already signed? We made commitments.”
“I don’t care about the contracts,” he roared. “Get your ass back here tomorrow or you can find another job.”
Stunned by his ultimatum, she considered not catching the flight. Carley wouldn’t be home from her friend’s until tomorrow. And she needed to see Jordan.
On the way to the fire station, Mel alternated between cursing herself for being a dreamer and praying their relationship could work. She pulled into the parking lot and heard the rumble of an engine. The fire truck pulled into the truck bay with Jordan at the wheel. After he parked and shut down the engine, she walked through the open door. Faint shadows rimmed his tired eyes, and his hair was tousled.
“Can I talk to you?” she asked.
Jordan motioned to the back door. “Let’s go outside.” They went out, and he leaned against the concrete block building, hooking his thumbs in his front pockets, watching her without expression.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
; “You’re not here to talk about me.”
She walked away and stuck her hands in her pockets. “Steven, my boss, just called. I’m supposed to go back to Denver tomorrow.”
Jordan’s face remained blank.
“I don’t know what to do. What do you think?”
“It’s not my decision.”
“I’d appreciate your input.” When he remained silent, she kicked at a pebble on the concrete before looking up. “I thought—think—we have something between us. If that’s true, I don’t want to leave.” A long, silent moment passed.
“Melanie.” He spoke softly, but his hard gaze drilled into her. “What do you know about the fire?”
She blinked. “What does that have to do with us?”
“Are you going to tell me what you know?” he asked with a look so pointed she could feel it.
“Jordan, I don’t know anything about the fire,” she said, stressing every syllable. “Only what you’ve told me. Honest.”
“I can accept that.”
Her relief was short-lived.
“Tell me what you suspect. Who were you talking about when you said ‘Why would he do this?’”
She wanted desperately to lie, to tell him she didn’t suspect anyone, but she couldn’t find the words.
“You found your answer.” He walked to the door.
“Wait. What are you talking about? The fire has nothing to do with us.”
“Trust has everything to do with us. You don’t trust me—”
“I do trust you,” she said in a shaky voice. Tears slid down her cheeks. “I trust you with my life, with my heart. I trust you, Jordan.”
“Not enough to level with me.” The door closed behind him.
****
Mel’s tears had nearly done him in, but he’d managed to stand firm. Now he rested his back against the door and simply breathed. He didn’t trust her. She didn’t trust him. Not much to build a relationship on, but he’d known from the beginning they wouldn’t have a relationship. What he hadn’t counted on was feeling so devastated at the loss of it.
The weight room was just down the hall, so he changed into shorts. He loaded the bar and slid under it. The first lift nearly killed him, but by the third, his mind geared up, and he slowed down so he didn’t rip a muscle or drop the damn thing on his chest. She’d be leaving for Denver soon. That’d make things easier. He wouldn’t see her, wouldn’t be tempted to call or stop by.
Yet, she was still in danger. He felt it. The person she was protecting had to be the same someone who was going to do her in. He rested the bar in the brackets. His arms felt like lead, but his head was finally clear.
First, he’d tell her every freakin’ detail about the fire. Somehow, he’d make her realize there was more at stake than losing her dreams. If the arsonist wasn’t caught, not only could she lose her life, others might, too. Once she understood that, she’d tell him everything.
****
Mel ignored the knock on the cabin door as she sat on the back step and tossed a ball for Charm. She’d miss the puppy terribly, but Charm would be happier with Jordan. Tomorrow, she’d leave the puppy at the farmhouse with a note.
“Melanie.”
She jumped at the sound of a male voice and for an irrational second, she thought Jordan was there, but Nicholas came through the back gate. He sat next to her and picked up the tennis ball Charm dropped on his cowboy boot.
“I pounded on your front door for five minutes.” He tossed the ball to the far end of the yard. “What are you doing out here? I thought you’d be packing.”
“I should be.” She picked at a loose thread on her jean shorts. “But I haven’t found the energy. What about you? Are you going back to Denver?”
“Nope.” He gave her that Snake Charmer grin. “I’m currently unemployed. Steven fired me an hour ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I never liked him anyway. Besides, I have a fiancé to think about.”
“You’re engaged?” She sat bolt upright. “You didn’t say anything.”
“I didn’t want to jinx it. She said yes when we were in Oregon.”
“Nicholas, that’s wonderful. Congratulations.” She gave Charm’s ball a good throw and surreptitiously wiped tears from her eyes.
“Mel, we made a good team. The Valley needs the services Schuster would have provided. Three more contracts were ready to be signed before the fire. Why don’t you tell Steven to stick his rules up his ass and stay? We’ll open our own office together. You have the HR expertise. I have the business know-how. Together, we could do it.”
“It’s tempting.” She braced her elbows on her knees. “But, I can’t stay. I don’t know if I’ll stay in Denver, but I won’t come back.” She wouldn’t have to, as long as she found a way to keep Mick away from Carley.
“It would work,” Nicholas insisted. “Together, we could—”
“I know we could. It’s not that. It’s personal. I shouldn’t have come back here.” She ignored the slobber on the ball and hurled it across the yard. Damn Steven and his orders. Damn Jordan and his persistence. Most of all, damn Mick.
“The firefighter?”
“How’d you guess?” It was the easiest answer.
“I thought things were going great.”
“They were, but now it’s over.”
“Because you’re going back to Denver?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it right now.”
“Gotcha.” Nicholas got to his feet. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’ll be here.”
“Thanks. Congratulations.” She watched him go, glad he hadn’t pressed for details.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The next morning, Sara told Mel that Carley would be home at noon. She went to Sara’s house and waited for a white minivan to pull out. Carley, a knapsack slung over her shoulder, stopped to wave.
“Hi, sweetie.” Mel gave her niece a hug and followed her inside. “How are you?”
“What are you doing here?” Carley asked. “Mom said I’m supposed to go to the store.”
“I cleared it. I’ll give you a ride, but first we need to talk.”
Carley’s face turned white, and the hands gripping the knapsacks trembled. “I don’t want to talk about...you know. Not ever.”
“Carley.” She bent slightly so their eyes were level. “It will be okay.”
Carley didn’t say a word, just stared at her with huge, brown eyes full of misery.
“Let’s go make some chocolate milk. That always makes me feel better.” Mel reached for the knapsack. “Let me help you—”
Carley jerked away, lost her balance, and fell. Mel grabbed for her shoulder but missed, and Carley landed on top of her knapsack. The girl sobbed so hard she couldn’t speak.
“Are you hurt?” she asked, taking Carley’s arm to help her up. Mel checked for injuries then gathered Carley in her arms. “Everything will be okay,” she said in a soft voice. “I’m here.”
Carley choked out a sob.
“Let’s get you a tissue.”
When Carley hesitated, Mel led her to the kitchen. “Did Sara ever tell you about our special chocolate secret?” She grinned, but Carley just blew her nose. When Carley was settled on a stool at the counter, Mel took the milk from the fridge.
“I’m going to tell you, but don’t try this on your mom, because she invented it. When we were growing up, our mom bought chocolate for only one reason.” Mel took two glasses from the cupboard and filled them half way with milk. “To make chocolate chip cookies. We went through lots of cookies, but sometimes you just need chocolate.” She put a long-handled spoon in each glass. “Now for the secret.” With a wink, she looked around until she found an unopened bag of chocolate chips. Using a pair of scissors, she snipped the top off with a dramatic flair and poured a quarter of the bag into each glass.
“I can’t drink chocolate chips and they aren’t going to melt.”
“I kn
ow.” With a conspiratorial smile, she picked up her glass. “Can you see them?”
“Barely.”
“That’s the idea.” She dug out a spoonful of chocolate chips and ate them. “There’s nothing better than chocolate and cold milk.”
Carley took a spoonful, but her lip trembled when Mel sat next to her.
“I saw Sara do this when she was nine. She walked right past Mom, with a spoon sticking out of her glass, and went to her room. When Mom got all happy because her kids were drinking milk, I knew Sara got away with swiping chocolate chips.” They sat in silence for a while, eating their chocolate chips.
“Now remember,” Mel said in a serious tone as she put her glass on the counter. “This is a secret, okay?”
“Pinky swear,” Carley said, making a fist with her pinky sticking out. They linked fingers and shook.
“That’s the nice thing about having a niece. I have someone to share my secrets with.” She smiled. “I know you’ll love me, even if I swipe your mom’s chocolate chips.”
Carley didn’t smile back. She just stared at her glass.
“There’s something about secrets,” Mel said softly, “especially the bad ones. When you talk about them with someone you know will be on your side no matter what, they don’t seem so bad anymore.” She smiled, but she could feel tears threaten as she remembered the conversation with Jordan. Saying something was a hell of a lot easier than doing it. God, she was such a hypocrite.
“You,” Carley hesitated, swallowed. “You know I’ve been taking things, but I don’t keep them. Honest.”
“I know, honey. You give them to Grandpa.”
Carley’s head swung around and her eyes shimmered with tears. “How’d you know?”
“Oh, Carley.” Unable to hold back her own tears, Mel wrapped her arms around Carley, and they both cried. Why hadn’t she stopped him years ago? She’d been afraid for herself and that self-centeredness now put Carley in the same situation. To save herself, she’d opened the door for Mick to destroy this precious girl.
“I know how you feel,” Mel said.
“How can you?” Carley jumped off her stool, suddenly livid.
Mel caught her arm before she could run out. “Listen to me.” She gripped Carley’s shoulders, bent slightly so they were eye level. “I know exactly how you feel, because Mick, your Grandpa, made me take things, too. Why else would he come to me when you got stuck in that house? How do you think I learned the skills I needed to get you out? Years of practice, that’s how. When I was your age, he told me people owed him money for work he did and wouldn’t pay. When I figured out he was lying, I confronted him. He threatened to turn me in for all the stuff I’d already taken. So I kept taking things until I was old enough to run away.”
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