Heron's Landing: The Complete Series

by Iris Morland

  “I use computers, enough to know that you’re a smart-ass.”

  She grinned. “You didn’t need a computer to know that.”

  He growled, her hand still on his chest, and he covered it with his own, pressing her hand against his heart. Can you feel how fast it beats for you? he wanted to ask her.

  Her eyes widened at the gesture. “Gavin,” she whispered.

  He wished he’d kissed her earlier? Well, he’d rectify that now. Leaning toward her, he kissed her, and for a moment, she didn’t respond. Anxiety filled him. He was about to pull away and apologize when she finally clutched at his shirtfront and kissed him back, and he groaned. He groaned at how soft her lips were and how she tasted like fruit—strawberries? Cherries? He didn’t know and he didn’t care. The kiss quickly transformed into something desperate, and when he tangled his tongue with hers, she listed toward him, like she couldn’t keep her balance.

  Even though she tasted as sweet as could be, he knew he couldn’t let this happen again. He was too damaged, too messed up from his divorce to enter into a relationship right now. Kat deserved a guy who could be there for her, not just in spurts and starts. He reluctantly broke the kiss, stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

  “I should go,” he murmured.

  She blinked. “Okay.”

  He touched her one last time because he just couldn’t help himself, and then he left, telling himself that was the last time he’d touch Kat Williamson like that ever again.

  4

  When are you coming back to LA?

  Kat stared at the Facebook message in her inbox and sighed. She wished she had an answer to that particular question, but at the moment, she had no idea. Would she go back to LA at all? It would make sense. She had come to Heron’s Landing to care for her grandmother, but now that Lillian had passed away, she was just kind of hanging around, perpetually in limbo.

  I’m not sure. But I’ll let you know, she wrote, hitting enter before she could rethink her response to her ex-boyfriend’s question. She and Marcus had dated for close to three years while she’d attended UCLA and then worked as a computer programmer. Their breakup hadn’t been messy or bitter; in fact, it had been a mutual decision. She was moving to Missouri, he wasn’t, neither wanted to do long distance. So they’d parted ways and that was that.

  Kat sighed again. Was that her life, then? To be logical, practical, but without passion or any real emotion? Her list of boyfriends wasn’t extensive, sure, but none of them had made her feel anything beyond a low-level kind of love. The kind of love that only snagged at your heart; the kind of love that didn’t burn you if it ended. Instead, you were left empty, wondering if you’d been in love in the first place.

  Kat shook herself. Now she was getting ridiculous over a one-off Facebook message. Marcus hadn’t been the love of her life. So what? Maybe she wasn’t cut out for such a thing. Maybe it was a myth.

  Then again, thinking about Gavin Danvers, she had a feeling it wasn’t a myth. The way he’d kissed her had been nothing like any of the kisses she’d received from other men. His kisses had made her yearn. Not just for sex—but that was there, too—but to wrap herself in him. To meld herself to him and never let go.

  It was both strange and terrifying. Getting off the couch, she went to the kitchen to make some tea, mostly for something to do. But even as the kettle boiled and she placed the teabag in her mug, she thought about that kiss. She thought about the look on Gavin’s face, and how he’d looked at her with desire and something like resignation. She had a distinct feeling that any kind of relationship with a man like him wouldn’t be uncomplicated or low-level. It would sear her to her very soul.

  As the evening waned on, Kat found herself looking at the page where she still hosted her contentious video game. The comments rolled in, and for the most part, she avoided reading them now. She’d considered taking the game down, but the very stubborn part of her refused to give in. Why should she be scared of a bunch of Internet trolls who probably lived in their mothers’ basements and hated women simply for existing? She wasn’t going to apologize for posting a game making fun of men like that. At any rate, she was getting enough revenue in ad money that pulling the plug didn’t make sense. She’d collect her money from these guys’ tears and laugh all the way to the bank.

  She was about to close her laptop for the night when an email popped into her inbox. Seeing the subject—READ IMMEDIATELY—she had a feeling it was spam. She was about to delete it, but curiosity got the better of her. It always did.

  To Whom It May Concern:

  Fuck you BITCH. I’ll find out where you live and then you’ll be sorry.

  Kat stared at the email, breathing harder. She read the words over and over again and her heart pounded so hard she felt dizzy. Slapping her laptop shut, she fought tears. It was one thing to get insulting comments via email; it was another entirely to be receiving threats.

  She crawled into bed, but not without getting a knife from the kitchen to hide underneath her pillow for the entirety of the night.

  The weekend dawned bright and gorgeous, with autumn edging the leaves with oranges and yellows. After much deliberation, Kat decided to delete the game, but she had a feeling it was too late. She knew as well as anyone that nothing on the Internet could ever be completely deleted. Hoping that it would deter some of the lazier trolls, though, she heaved a sigh and deleted it, making certain to leave as little a trail as she could manage.

  She refused to let that email ruin her weekend. She walked to Trudy’s, which was the one café in the tiny downtown of Heron’s Landing. Main Street was barely a street, but it hosted Heron’s Landing’s various shops: a general store with apartments above it; Trudy’s café; a hardware store; a craft shop that exploded with Christmas paraphernalia, usually by October 1. Today, there were quite a few tourists wandering the street. Heron’s Landing felt like it was stuck in time, and after touring the vineyard, many tourists came downtown to experience the town’s particular type of charm. Kat smiled as she watched an older couple trying to take a selfie in front of a huge elm tree. As she passed by, they waved at her, and she became their photographer for a few moments.

  “Thank you, miss,” the older man said as she handed back his phone. “Still can’t figure out these new phones. Give me a rotary phone any day of the week, I say.”

  His wife snorted. “You couldn’t dial my number right on any rotary phone, Ernest! Honestly, he’s been useless with technology since he was born.”

  Ernest’s eyes twinkled as he looked at his wife. “And yet you still married me.”

  Kat walked on, hands in her pockets. Seeing that couple reminded her that love could be stronger than what she’d seen personally. Her own parents had divorced when she was a young girl, and Kat had stayed with her mother until she’d passed away from breast cancer. She’d always been a bit of a loner. Maybe it wasn’t love that was the problem: maybe it was her.

  “Kat!” Kat looked up to see Grace Danvers moving toward her, a bright smile on her face. “I haven’t seen you in ages! How are you?”

  Grace was a pretty, young woman, recently turned twenty-four, and her once-long blonde hair was now in a bob that reached right below her chin. Despite her stylish haircut, though, she still wore her usual skirts and peasant tops, a smudge of flour on her cheek.

  Kat hugged her close. “It has been too long,” she admitted as she sat down at a nearby booth. “How are you, though?”

  Grace beamed. She thrust out her hand, and Kat couldn’t help but gasp as she saw the ring sparkling on her finger.

  “Oh, Grace,” she said, gazing at the bright sapphire ring. “It’s gorgeous. When did Jaime ask you?”

  “Just yesterday. I had no idea he was going to do it, the jerk. I was so surprised I couldn’t think of anything to say, and he just about had a heart attack.” Grace handed Kat a menu. “I mean, we’d talked about getting engaged, but I didn’t expect it to happen for a while yet.”

 
; “I’m so happy for you.” And Kat was, although her heart squeezed with a bite of jealousy all the same. She’d seen how Grace and Jaime had almost lost each other, and seeing them happy and in love now made her glad that she’d helped them in a small way. After Jaime had been accused of stealing from the vineyard, Kat had assisted Grace with discovering—and finding real evidence of—the actual culprit. And now the two of them would be getting married.

  “But what about you?” Grace asked, scooting into the seat opposite her. At Kat’s look, Grace waved a hand. “No one’s around, and Trudy’s in the kitchen.”

  Kat hesitated. She couldn’t very well tell Grace about kissing her brother, could she? And she didn’t want to talk about the game or the emails. “Everything’s good. Just been working, you know. The daily grind.”

  “You still like teaching?”

  “For the most part. Sometimes it can be difficult, but the kids are sweet. I think it helps that I’m not teaching middle school or high school. Teenagers are kind of terrifying.”

  Grace smiled. “Seriously. I remember what I was like at thirteen and shudder.”

  “I think we all do.” Kat shrugged, not sure what else to tell Grace. “Otherwise it’s been pretty uneventful.”

  Okay, that was a lie. A big ole fat lie.

  Grace traced something on the table. “I heard about Emma, about what you did,” she said quietly. “I hope you know how grateful we all are. I know Gavin can’t thank you enough.”

  A flush of pleasure filled Kat. “It wasn’t anything, really. I did what anyone else would do.” She bit the inside of her cheek now, wondering if she was overstepping her bounds. But Grace was more…receptive than the other members of the Danvers family. “Is Emma…do you know what’s going on? She’s quiet and shy as usual in my class. Almost too quiet, if I’m being honest.”

  Grace let out a long sigh. “I wish I could tell you, but Gavin is so protective of her, even when it comes to the rest of the family. I saw her yesterday, and she seemed like you described her. But I still worry. About them both. They’ve gone through so much…” She rubbed her forehead, suddenly looking older than twenty-four. “I just hope they can figure things out, you know?”

  Kat did know. She’d thought about Emma ever since she’d discovered her in that closet, and more and more, she wondered if the girl had some kind of illness that couldn’t just be classified as being homesick or missing her mother. Kat wasn’t an expert, and she wasn’t a psychiatrist, but she’d dealt with anxiety and had a panic attack more than once in her life, and she couldn’t help but think Emma was suffering something similar.

  “Has Gavin taken her to anyone?” Kat couldn’t help but ask.

  “Not recently, no. He and Emma had a bad experience with a therapist last year, and I think it’s scared my brother away since.”

  Someone called Grace’s name, and the girl popped up out of the booth like a jack-in-the-box. “Gotta run. But Kat,” she said as she touched her arm, “I feel like if anyone could get through to my brother, it would be you.”

  Kat’s eyebrows rose to her hairline. “Me?”

  “Yes, you. I may be a bit of an airhead, but I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Kat, he’s smiled at you. He doesn’t smile at anyone. Well, except Emma, although not as much recently since he’s been so worried about her.”

  “I don’t think I’m the best person…” Kat trailed off, not sure how to explain.

  “Just, don’t take my brother’s aloofness as him not caring, okay? He’s a hard nut to crack, but I swear, when you do crack it, it’ll be worth it.” Someone called Grace’s name again, and she called back an “I’m coming!” before snagging the menu and running into the back, leaving Kat to try to figure out how she felt about all this.

  In times of emotional distress, Kat generally preferred to lay things out in a logical order. She was a computer programmer; everything in life had its own kind of code, she reasoned. She snagged a piece of paper from her purse and began scribbling on it.

  What I do know, she wrote at the top.

  I’m attracted to Gavin

  Proof: I want(ed) him to kiss me

  He’s attracted to me.

  Proof: He want(ed) to kiss me

  I like him as a person

  Proof: I like talking to him. I want to know more about him. I can’t stop thinking about him, etc.

  He likes me as a person.

  Proof: He likes talking to me (debatable: he doesn’t talk much in general). He wants to know more about me (debatable: he hasn’t said as much but listens when I talk about myself). He can’t stop thinking about me (no idea: he could forget about me most of the time.)

  I would like a relationship with him.

  Proof: see above.

  He would like a relationship with me.

  Proof: ????

  “Hey, I never got your order,” Grace said at her shoulder.

  Kat grabbed the piece of paper and shoved it into her purse, extremely glad that it was difficult to see a blush on her dark skin. Because she was most definitely blushing—and feeling like a complete idiot.

  “Um, coffee is fine,” she finally stammered.

  “Coming right up. You like cream, right?”

  Kat nodded as Grace walked away, trying to steady her breathing. She really shouldn’t list personal things like that in the middle of a busy café. Did she want to be found out?

  She finished her coffee in record speed, suddenly feeling like the walls at Trudy’s were closing in on her. She needed some fresh air. She needed to get Grace’s words out of her head. And she most definitely needed to stop thinking about Gavin Danvers and how he felt about her, because God only knew if the man was capable of any kind of deeper feelings.

  But as luck would have it, she wasn’t going to get to stop thinking about the man of the hour that easily. Just as she was leaving Trudy’s, she saw him and Emma walking in her very direction. When he saw her, he seemed taken aback, like he was surprised to see her in this very town. She almost snorted. Did he really think he wasn’t going to run into her in a town of fewer than three hundred people?

  “Hi, Mr. Danvers, hi, Emma,” she said with a small wave. “How are you?”

  Emma had her hair up in what Kat thought was supposed to be braids, but she wasn’t entirely sure. After Gavin had greeted her in his usual gruff way, Emma opened her mouth like she was about to say something, but then thought better of it.

  “How’s your weekend been, Emma?” Kat asked, ignoring her frustrating father.

  “Okay,” the girl murmured. But then her eyes lit up as she added, “We found some kittens at the back of Mike’s. There are five of them. All black.”

  “Oh my. I love kittens. You’ll have to show me. Is the mom black, too?”

  Emma nodded. “Dad says they’re probably four weeks old. They still have blue eyes, too. Did you know cats’ eyes change as they get older?”

  Kat glanced at Gavin. He shrugged, like he didn’t know who this chatterbox of a girl was in front of them.

  “I think I did know that. I had a black cat when I was a kid. Her name was Snowball.”

  Emma frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “I know, but I didn’t name her. We got her from the pound, and she didn’t respond to any other name.”

  “Come on, Emma. I’m sure Ms. Williamson needs to get home,” Gavin said.

  “No, not really. I’m just taking a walk.” Kat glanced at Gavin, but he was making a studied effort not to look at her. Lovely. Now he’s just going to act like we never kissed? This day keeps getting better.

  Seeing that Gavin didn’t seem all that interested in continuing to chat, Kat added, “I’ll see you later, then. Maybe I’ll come by to see those kittens, okay?”

  She pulled out her phone as Gavin and Emma walked in the direction of the café. It had become a habit, checking her email and her messages if she found herself wandering around alone. Marcus hadn’t replied yet, for which she was rather gratefu
l. But as she perused her email, she noticed that she’d gotten another message from what seemed like the person who’d threatened her the day before, although the email address was different.

  “Son of a bitch,” she muttered under her breath. Then fear congealed in her gut when she saw that this email was accompanied by a drawing that involved a man shooting a woman as she sat at her computer. Everything around her faded away, until all she saw was that stupid drawing, probably made in Paint. But her heart pounded all the same.

  “Everything okay?”

  She whirled to see that Gavin hadn’t gone inside Trudy’s yet. “Why are you still here?” she blurted. She almost laughed at his expression. “Sorry, that was rude. Everything’s fine.” She tried very hard to make her voice even, but she could hear it waver.

  Apparently, so could he. “Really? Because once again I find you swearing at your phone, and you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Is it the same thing you got last time?”

  Kat was about to lie and say it wasn’t, but she knew Gavin could probably see past any pretense. Emma was looking at them both, her forehead crinkled in confusion.

  “Yeah, same thing. It’s just annoying, like I said. Don’t worry about it.” She put her phone back into her purse, but she realized she was shaking so badly that she almost dropped it. Dammit, now was not the time to lose it.

  Gavin stepped closer to her, touching her on the arm. “You don’t look all right,” he said in a quiet voice. “Tell me what’s happened. Let me help you.”

  “What’s happened?” Emma asked. “Are you okay, Ms. Williamson?”

  Kat swallowed back the fear. “I’m okay. Just a little unsettled. I didn’t get some good news.”

  “Emma, why don’t you go inside Trudy’s and find Grace? I’ll be in in a sec.” Gavin watched his daughter enter the café before turning to Kat. “Now tell me what happened.”

  Once again Kat found herself handing over her phone, but this time, she wasn’t embarrassed. For some reason, having Gavin know about what was happening allowed her to calm down somewhat. She could breathe again. And seeing his thunderous expression when he saw the email? She knew he’d do anything in his power to keep her safe.