In This Together

by Kara Lennox

“But he’s going to want to know the details.”

  “Tell him if he has to know more to call me. I’ll think of something to tell him.” She disconnected before Rosalie could offer up any more arguments.

  She wouldn’t lie to her father. But she prayed he wouldn’t find out about the kidnapping. She couldn’t bear the thought of what might happen.

  “I don’t want to be the cause of you fighting with your parents,” Travis said.

  “It isn’t the first time we’ve argued, and it won’t be the last. Please don’t worry about it.” But she knew he would.

  Travis had pulled his truck through the gated neighborhood entrance; the security guard waved him through. He made a couple more turns and ended up parked at the end of Marigold Circle.

  Elena grabbed the towels she’d brought with her, and they both headed for the front door. A Hispanic man met them before they even got to the porch.

  “Glad you’re here, Travis. It’s worse than I thought.”

  “Worse how? You got the water turned off, right?”

  “Yeah. But after I looked around a little, I realized it wasn’t just a random pipe burst. Someone got in here while we were at lunch. Where the pipes are still exposed in the bedroom—they hit them with a sledgehammer or something. And they left a message.”

  “A message?”

  “Spray-painted on the wall.”

  Elena’s stomach tightened with apprehension as the three of them made their way up the stairs. They entered a large bedroom, where two men were working to sop up water. One had a mop; the other was on his hands and knees with towels. The towels were already soaked, so the ones Elena had brought would be welcome.

  Elena’s eyes were drawn to the hole in the wall. The pipes inside were bent at odd angles, mangled and broken. But Travis wasn’t even looking at that. His gaze was riveted on the wall behind her. She turned to look.

  “I will destroy you,” the two of them read at the same time. A chill ran down Elena’s spine.

  “It’s definitely the same guy,” Travis said. “Same color of paint, and the letters look the same. Although I guess all block letters look the same.”

  “And he’s escalating.”

  “Drew,” Travis said decisively to the guy on the floor. “Get some Kilz and cover that graffiti. Pablo, get a pipe cutter and cut out the damaged portion of the pipe.

  “Travis,” Elena objected, “you have to call the police.”

  “No. If Social Services finds out someone is threatening me, I’ll never get MacKenzie.”

  “But the insurance claims adjuster will be here soon, right?”

  “We’ll say the water got turned on by accident. If they deny the claim, I’ll deal with it. The damage isn’t that bad. I think this floor will be okay once it dries. I might have to sand and refinish it again.”

  “There’s more damage downstairs,” Pablo said.

  Elena and Travis trooped downstairs. Pablo led them to a study, where water pooled in what looked like a newly carpeted floor. It was still dripping down a set of built-in bookcases.

  Elena’s phone was already in her hand. “I know a good company that does water extraction. I’ll—” She froze as Travis shot her a look that hit her like a bowling ball. “Right. I’ll just go sit on the front porch and wait for you.” She dropped the last towel she’d been holding and walked out of the room.

  She didn’t agree with Travis’s decision not to involve the police. The vandal was getting bolder and more destructive. What if his actions escalated? What if he targeted MacKenzie?

  Even if the Stovers weren’t violent, they could do serious damage to Travis’s business.

  But it was Travis’s call. She exited the house and sat down on the front porch steps, intending to stay out of his way. Still, she wondered: at what point did a hot button become too hot?

  A couple of hours later, the problem was under control. The insurance guy came and went. Judging from all the smiling going on as he left, Elena guessed the damage would be covered. Finally Travis grabbed his jacket and joined Elena on the porch.

  “I told you it wouldn’t be that fun coming with me. You ready to go?”

  “Anytime. And it might have been a little bit fun if you’d just let me help.”

  “I hired you as a nanny. You don’t have to help with anything else.”

  “I know I don’t have to. I want to help. That’s what friends do.”

  “But you’re not...um...”

  “Were you getting ready to say I’m not your friend? Really?” She climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door.

  “Of course you’re my friend,” Travis said when he joined her inside the truck.

  “Good. Because if you’ll think back a couple of hours you might remember me doing something that strangers or acquaintances or business associates usually don’t do.”

  “I know. I’m fully aware of everything you’ve done for me, Elena. Believe me. Acutely aware. That’s the problem—you’ve done so much that I don’t deserve—”

  “Why don’t you deserve it?”

  “You know why. I didn’t just kidnap you. I caused a rift between you and your boss. You’re fighting with your parents because of me.... Hell, I came into your life like a hurricane and wrecked it!”

  “Wreck-It Riggs. Maybe I should call you that from now on.”

  “By all rights, you shouldn’t even like me.”

  “But I do. And just because I want to help you handle a problem here and there doesn’t mean I think you’re weak or incompetent. I just like to be useful, okay? So take a deep breath, stop being so suspicious of my motives and let me lend a hand. I know. Tell me what I can do to help you get ready for MacKenzie. That seems like something in a nanny’s job description.”

  Travis took a few deep breaths. Then he nodded. “The social worker is coming on Monday. I still need to address some safety issues at my house. Then I need to go grocery shopping so I have a fridge full of nutritious food—oh, hell. I still need to buy a refrigerator. And I have to be out of my apartment, too. They were pretty nice about me breaking my lease because they have a waiting list, but only if I move out by Monday.”

  “I can do the refrigerator and the grocery shopping. And I can pack boxes and carry them around. Stop looking at me like that. It’s not a big deal. I like being helpful.”

  In truth, she hadn’t felt so alive in a long time. Travis would never admit it, but he needed her. Well, he required someone in his life. No one should have to handle his problems completely on his own. He needed her to help his niece. And he just needed her, period. She’d never met anyone as isolated as he was.

  The way Travis was looking at her, she knew he was trying to think of a reason not to let her pitch in. It obviously went against his grain. He was used to going it alone, the lone warrior. Travis against the world. Finally, though, he nodded. “Okay. But we haven’t discussed your salary. Yes, I’m going to pay you. Nothing like Daniel was paying you, I’m sure, but something approaching fair.”

  She started to argue, but she realized his pride would not budge on the matter of a paycheck. “Whatever you think is fair. I have no clue what nannies earn, but remember, you’re giving me a place to live, as well, so take that into consideration.”

  “I have.” He suggested a weekly salary that was about one-fifth of what she’d earned at Daniel’s. But it was enough to cover her incidentals and keep her gas tank filled.

  “That sounds fine,” she said with a smile. “Now, then. What kind of refrigerator would you like me to buy?”

  He quoted the dimensions he wanted, obviously having measured the space earlier in his new home—their new home, she thought with a little thrill. He’d also apparently committed them to memory. She typed in the figures on her phone.

  “Freakish,” she
murmured.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  WHEN TRAVIS GOT HOME late Sunday night, he could hardly believe everything he and Elena had gotten done over the weekend. He’d gone over the house inch by inch to make sure there was nothing that might be dangerous for a child or adult; he’d checked over the wiring and electrical outlets, even opening a wall or two to peek inside. He’d checked for any nails or splinters in the woodwork that might snag small hands or feet; he’d tested for lead paint and asbestos. He’d put textured decals in the tubs, good locks on all the windows and doors, installed smoke alarms in every bedroom and a couple downstairs.

  He’d bought MacKenzie some new outfits, because he feared she would arrive at his place with only the clothes on her back. An alarm company was scheduled to come first thing in the morning to install a security system just in case the Stovers showed up, although he’d kept his new address unlisted. Of course, the way the Stovers had found him before was to follow him—how else could they have known he was going to Elena’s for Thanksgiving? Or the address of the house he was working on—that wasn’t even written down anywhere.

  So he was being careful not to let anyone tail him, and he’d cautioned Elena to also be aware and to call the police if she suspected someone was following her.

  But maybe the Stovers would give up soon. It was like Elena had said; people who scrawled things with spray paint usually did so because they were too afraid to confront someone directly.

  His crew had repaired the water damage, replacing the carpeting and a few of the hardwood floor slats upstairs. He’d also had to replace some drywall, patch and paint, put new glass in the front door, but it all looked good as new. He’d reported the vandalism to the security gate. The guard there swore he hadn’t let anyone in who didn’t belong. But clearly Stover had observed Travis working on the house, and he had to have gotten in somehow.

  Anyway, the security system was installed and working at that house, and he was now the only one with a key.

  He was bone-tired, but with Elena’s help he’d done everything on his list. He had the last load of stuff in the back—some miscellaneous tools and lumber from his storage unit at his old apartment. He’d turned in his keys. Now he looked forward to coming home to Elena. This was probably their last night alone in the house. One more night to resist temptation.

  There had been no repeat of the stormy passion from Friday. Although he sensed Elena wasn’t completely against the idea, he was trying not to give in. His plate was full, what with his new responsibilities as the guardian of a troubled little girl. But even if the timing hadn’t been bad...for Elena’s own good, he had to discourage the idea of a romance between them.

  It was Judith all over again. Judith, with her classy background and lofty education, who always knew what to wear, what to say and which fork to use. Judith, who’d fallen in love with Travis’s potential but not with the real him. No matter how hard she’d tried to remake him, he had stubbornly remained the same old Travis—a man of simple tastes, basic needs. Good with his hands, hopeless when it came to fine wines, foreign films and schmoozing the “right people.”

  Granted, Elena hadn’t once put him down for his lack of education. Her efforts to help him appeared far less self-serving than Judith’s. But the differences between them couldn’t be swept under the rug.

  He was grateful to Elena for offering to take care of MacKenzie and for all her help documenting the Stovers’ theft, putting him in touch with a family law attorney, refusing to press charges. But gratitude was not a proper foundation for a relationship.

  Relationship. He couldn’t stand that word. Judith had gone on and on about their relationship or lack thereof, and her wonderful relationship with her new lover who was another “diamond in the rough,” but one who was willing to improve himself, according to Judith, anyway. Clearly Travis didn’t know how to have a relationship, and that seemed to be something women wanted.

  All that said, he couldn’t stop the way his heart thumped whenever he thought about coming home to Elena.

  The lights were on, glowing warm and welcoming as he pulled into the driveway. In the dark, the house really looked like something special; he couldn’t see the cracked and peeling paint. He’d done some tree trimming and very basic landscaping that morning so the place wouldn’t look like a jungle. He smiled just remembering Elena pitching in to help, on her hands and knees yanking out weeds that were almost as big as she was. She wasn’t afraid of hard work, that was for sure.

  He grabbed the bag with the few last purchases he’d made on his way home—curtains for Elena’s room, some colorful dish towels for the kitchen, some eco-friendly cleaning products to replace the harsh chemical ones he’d had before.

  As he opened the front door, a delicious smell greeted him. Wait a minute. Elena said she didn’t know how to cook.

  “Hey!” She appeared at the door to the kitchen, smiling. “Welcome home. Have you eaten?”

  “No, but I hope you didn’t wait for me.” It was after nine o’clock. “You don’t have to fix my meals, you know. That’s not your job.”

  “Oh, I didn’t actually cook. It’s frozen enchiladas. They’ll be ready in about five minutes.”

  He joined her in the kitchen, where she was putting a salad together. A half glass of red wine sat on the counter next to a big salad bowl. “Would you like some wine?” she asked when she saw where his gaze had traveled. “Or a cold beer?”

  A streak of alarm rushed up his spine. “Wine? Beer? We can’t have that in the house!”

  “We can’t? Oh. For tomorrow. Actually, I don’t think they mind if you have a little wine or beer around, but if you’re uneasy about it, we can put it in my car trunk tomorrow morning.”

  Travis took a deep breath. “I’m probably being paranoid. But I just want everything to be perfect.”

  “I know. It will be. I washed all the towels and put them back in the bathrooms, and the fridge and pantry are overflowing with more healthy foods than you can shake a stick at. Oh, and I bought a first-aid kit. I thought that might be a good thing to have—bandages, antibiotic cream, children’s aspirin. It’s in the master bathroom.”

  “I never even thought of that.”

  “It’s on the list the social worker gave you.”

  He hadn’t looked at the list—Missy had gone over it with him, and he’d committed it to memory. Or so he thought. “Did I forget anything else?”

  “No, I think everything else is covered.”

  He made himself relax. He had done everything he could. If some uptight state bureaucrat decided he wasn’t a fit guardian after all this... He didn’t even want to consider the possibility.

  “Thank you, Elena. I think I will have that beer.” He opened the door of his brand new fridge. A six-pack of Samuel Adams was nestled among a jungle of fruits and vegetables, milk, cheese, eggs, orange juice, condiments and whole-wheat bread. He pulled one out of the carton, closed the fridge and used a drawer handle to pop off the cap.

  God, how long had it been since someone had prepared a hot meal for him? He could get used to this in a hurry. A very pleasant sensation bloomed inside his chest. It came from the realization that someone cared for him.

  Eric cared about Travis, of course. But the last few years, they’d both been focused solely on Eric and his issues. Eric had often expressed appreciation for all that Travis did, or at least tried to do.

  But this... This was something different.

  “What can I do to help?” he asked. “Set the...” No, the little kitchen table was already set. His old stoneware dishes looked a lot better matched up with place mats and colorful plastic water tumblers. She’d even put a candle on the table, which made him wonder. Was he being seduced?

  “Not a thing. I have it all under control.”

  “You always do,” he said with a grin.
>
  The oven timer went off. Travis served up bubbling, melty-cheesy enchiladas while Elena scooped salad into bowls and added dressing and croutons. Soon they were seated at the intimate table, enjoying their meal and talking about their day like a married couple.

  What a fantasy. Almost more potent than the fantasy of having her naked and in his bed. Almost.

  “I almost bought frozen lasagna,” she said with a teasing smile. “But I knew it wouldn’t be as good as the stuff you served me when I was your hostage.”

  “Please, Elena. I’m trying to forget that ever happened.”

  “Oh, come on. It has to be the cutest meet ever.”

  “What?” She thought it was cute that he went temporarily insane and assaulted her?

  “Just imagine what a great story we’d have to tell our grandchildren. If we ever got married and had children. And grandchildren.”

  What the hell was he supposed to make of that? Then he realized she might be tipsy. “How much of that wine have you had?”

  “Enough to give me stupid-mouth, apparently. Sorry. I was just being silly.”

  He started to agree with her, but he realized she was blushing. He could tell even in the candlelight. She was embarrassed. So he let it pass, even as his traitorous imagination conjured up a picture of him and Elena in their seventies, gray-haired and wrinkled, with toddlers all around them. Toddlers with Elena’s dramatic coloring.

  Elena would still be beautiful when she was old, of that he was sure.

  “So what time is the social worker coming tomorrow?” she asked, thankfully breaking into his reverie.

  “Ten. And if everything is good, she’ll bring MacKenzie over later in the day.”

  “Does MacKenzie know? You talked to her on the phone yesterday, right?”

  “I didn’t mention it. I didn’t want to get her hopes up in case it didn’t work out.”

  “How do you think she’ll take it?”

  He shrugged. “Honestly? No idea. She seems to like me, but she doesn’t express much emotion.”

  “I think she’ll be happy here.”