by Geri Krotow
Serena had those qualities as well as a compassionate heart and remarkable level-headedness, especially considering everything she’d been through.
He’d bet she gave her clients superlative legal counsel.
“We don’t need to talk about Texas, or your previous life.” He took the turnoff to Paul’s.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Jonas. It’s not as painful as it was twelve or even six months before. I simply don’t want to bore or burden you. That’s my past, Pepé’s past. We’ve started a new life out here, a life we’ve grown into. I’ve learned that taking this journey one day at a time works best for me.”
“You sound like you’re in a twelve-step program or something.”
She laughed. “No, I’m not, but it’s a good philosophy, isn’t it?”
He didn’t answer as they drew closer to Paul’s house. It lay in the midst of a sprawling meadow, bordered by tall fir trees on one side and more sturdy maples and oaks on the other. Puget Sound and the mainland were to the east of the property.
“This is huge. Was it always here, or did Paul put it in?” Her gaze took in the meandering gardens and thickets of evergreen trees.
“My brother John did it for him.”
“He does landscaping, right?”
“Landscape design. His company is Eagle Scapes.”
“That’s who I paid to come out and level the land for the alpaca barn. They put in some rhododendrons for me, too.”
“You didn’t know it was my family’s business?”
“No, not right away, but then I put it together. Dottie had told me about everyone, and of course she managed to get us together once before she died. After the funeral your family invited Pepé and me to a few things but I felt they were being polite. I didn’t want to put any of us through more grief than we were already experiencing.” She shook her head as if clearing out sad memories. “It seems like your family’s all over the island. What else do they own?”
Jonas laughed. “It’s not that bad. You’ll only run into me at the base hospital, and John if you have more landscaping done. And of course you’re going to be working with Paul. You haven’t needed a therapist or social worker, have you? My sisters-in-law can help you there.”
* * *
SERENA DIDN’T SET Jonas straight on the position with Paul’s firm. She hadn’t decided yet whether she’d take the job, and if she did, how she was going to limit her work hours. She’d never been good at that; once a case piqued her interest she allowed it to consume her until she had it settled.
That was before she’d become a widow, before she became a single mother and had to worry about being away from Pepé for too long.
“Wake up, Pepé.” She twisted in her seat to gently shake his leg as it dangled from his booster seat. Ronald barked and Serena hopped out of the Wrangler as soon as it came to a stop.
“’Kay, Mom.”
She turned back to Jonas. “Ronald needs to go potty. He never barks unless he does.”
“You can let him run here.”
“I’m afraid I’d never get him back. If he spots a deer or rabbit I’m out of luck.” She clipped his leash onto his collar before she undid his doggy seat-belt harness.
“I still can’t believe you have a seat belt for your dog.”
“Anything that isn’t buckled down is a flying missile in a crash.” She ignored the way her hands shook. Her awareness of Jonas as more than Dottie’s stepson or her future neighbor was getting ridiculous. They’d shared that one stupid kiss on the Fords’ back deck and she’d been unable to erase it from her memory.
“Come on, Pepé, I’ll show you around while your Mom takes Ronald to do his business.”
Serena watched them walk away. Jonas was a full-dimensional guy. One minute he appeared as the modern bachelor, complete with all the sexy moves to prove it. The next, he was using a quaint turn of phrase she hadn’t heard since she’d been a girl in Texas and her mother reminded her to take their dog out to do its “business.”
Pepé bounced next to Jonas as they walked up the paved path that wound around several flower beds and up to the front door of a huge cedar-shingled home.
Paul’s firm must be doing very, very well. Not that she cared other than for employment purposes. Observing the house also provided a good distraction from how sweet Pepé looked as he walked with Jonas.
She blinked back all-too-familiar tears. Pepé had unfairly lost his father to war. There was nothing she could do about it, and fantasies of Jonas becoming a father figure to Pepé were poison. They’d destroy both her and Pepé.
Ronald made quick work of his “business” and Serena steeled herself to go into the world of Jonas’s family. She breathed in the Whidbey air and allowed the early-winter pastel hues that streaked across the western sky to calm her heart. Jonas was being nice, and Paul had always been accepting of her.
Serena had met Jonas’s sisters-in-law when she and Pepé had stayed at BTS. Both women volunteered at the nonprofit. She’d met them only briefly, but the setting and purpose of the resort for Gold Star families was so intimate that most of the people there felt more like family. They’d known she was Dottie’s biological niece and had been welcoming.
But Jonas’s brother John and Jackie’s husband, Jim, were unknowns.
A vision of Dottie, laughing at something funny Pepé had done, overwhelmed her. Dottie. That was why she was here. To reinforce the tie of love Dottie had woven around all of them.
If Serena ever lived as long as her aunt had, she hoped she’d have a fraction of Dottie’s grace and sense of purpose.
“Let’s go, Ronald.”
She let herself into a magnificent foyer that was decorated with portraits of Paul’s family. Front and center was one of Paul, Mary and their twins on the beach, all dressed in white tops and blue jeans. Shiny red Christmas garland draped around each frame.
Serena felt a tug of envy. She’d planned to have a family photo done when Phil got back from the war, the three of them in blue denim shirts, jeans and cowboy boots. Against the backdrop of the Texas hills.
With a start she realized her envy was more a regret. Not the overpowering grief it would’ve been a couple of years ago.
Had she reached another level of healing?
She heard laughter and followed the sound into an expansive great room complete with a fancy center island. Black granite flecked with gold specks covered the area around which Paul’s wife, Mary, John’s wife, Jackie, and the twin teenage girls stood. Mounds of dough, bags of flour and sugar and dozens of cookie cutters were scattered across the worktop.
“Mary and Jackie, nice to see you again. I’m not sure if you remember Pepé and me?”
“I’d never forget you two. These are our girls, Megan and Morgan.”
“Hi.” The lanky teens spoke in unison, then giggled.
“Nice to meet you. What grade are you in?”
“We’re freshmen in high school.”
“Fifteen?”
“Not yet—but they think they’re sixteen already.” Mary gave her girls a stern look.
“Mom, we were on our property!”
“Dad taught us how to start the pickup!”
Jackie grinned. “They took Paul’s truck for a bit of a jaunt last night.”
“Aunt Jackie!”
“Jackie!”
Both the twins and Mary expressed their horror.
Serena laughed. “I don’t need to know the details. I grew up on a ranch—I was driving when I was thirteen.”
“Really?” Both girls’ eyes grew wide.
“Well, maybe it was fourteen.” Serena shrugged.
Mary shifted into cookie-baking mode. “Girls, get Pepé started with the cutouts. Pepé, there’s a huge gingerbread boy that you ca
n be in charge of, okay?”
She turned to Serena. “Here’s an apron. We’ll work on making the dough for the peanut-butter cup cookies. Did you go to BTS for Thanksgiving?”
Mary’s smile lit up features that were framed by a chic blond bob. Serena didn’t miss her deliberate change of topic and silently had to give her points for not letting her irritation at her daughters spill over into the rest of the conversation.
“Yes, we did. It was lovely.”
“Was there a good crowd? We were all here.” Jackie poured them each a cup of coffee from Mary’s Christmas-themed thermal carafe.
“Thanks. Yes, there were about twenty people around the table, and it was wonderful to see how much everyone’s changed and moved on. They were happy to see Pepé.”
Serena held the snowflake-patterned mug between both hands and took a deep sip.
“Mmm, is this chocolate mint? Where did you get it?”
Jackie laughed and looked at Mary, who had a definite blush on her cheeks.
“It’s, um, kind of ‘vintage.’ I froze a few packages last year when the drive-through coffee place I liked went out of business. It’s still good, though, isn’t it?”
Serena was a little shocked by that. The coffee drive-through had been owned by the psychopath who’d murdered Dottie. “Yes.” Serena thought for a moment. “By the way, the coffee stand’s open again.”
It was Mary and Jackie’s turn to look shocked.
“No, not that drive-through. Do you really think we’d... Oh, dear.” Mary shook her head. “It’s from a place near here, closer to Langley.”
“Oh, that’s a relief.”
“You really loved Dottie, didn’t you?” Jackie encouraged Serena to talk, but Serena didn’t want to discuss Dottie with Jonas’s family. It came too close to what mattered to her—and to his family. Dottie’s legacy.
Her biological roots, which Jonas no doubt wished had never been disclosed. At least not until after he’d gotten the house.
And then there was the matter of her working with Dottie the day of Dottie’s death....
“Serena, I’m sorry. We’re sorry. We know you didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Dottie. It was such a blow to us at the time, so we probably came off as horribly rude at the funeral. But we never blamed you, not for a minute.”
“Thank you. I know that—you’ve been so kind, and you’ve invited me and Pepé to so many things. I’m sorry I didn’t take you all up on it sooner.”
“We’re glad you’re here today, Serena.” Mary walked over and gave her a hug. Serena hugged Mary back, and for the first time since Dottie had died, she felt like a door had reopened to her new family.
* * *
JONAS WATCHED SERENA working at the counter with his sisters-in-law and had the same feeling he’d had whenever the missile-warning siren went off in Kandahar.
Panic.
He was heading into deep water here, and he had no one to blame but himself.
She looked so natural, as if she and Pepé had been part of his family forever.
In a way, she had. Through Dottie.
Grief clutched at his heart and he zoned out of his brother’s banter about the Seattle Seahawks football game on the oversize flat screen above the fireplace mantel. They’d all been here the past six months; they’d had a chance to get used to Dottie’s not being around. Hell, his stomach still sank any time he pulled up to the house and realized Dottie wasn’t inside baking him some of her trademark oatmeal chocolate-chip cookies.
He couldn’t deny the anticipation of seeing Serena walk through the doorway, however.
“Earth to Jonas.” John stared at him with a combination of annoyance, humor and understanding. “Women troubles on your mind, buddy?”
Jonas shook his head. “I’d need a woman to have those kinds of troubles. Unlike the rest of you boys, I’ve got a life free of encumbrances.”
“Yeah, it looks like it today, pal.” Jim elbowed Paul and cast a meaningful look toward the kitchen.
They were right. He’d brought a woman, her boy and their dog.
To his family’s get-together.
“Hey, you all know the deal here.” He deliberately kept his voice low, not wanting it to carry over to the cookie elves. They were so busy laughing, rolling dough and cutting out cookies that he doubted they’d notice if he jumped up on the coffee table and shouted. It didn’t hurt to be careful, though.
“We know what you think you’re doing, if that’s what you mean.” John kept his face straight, but the glint in his eyes told Jonas that John wasn’t being accusatory. Annoying, yes.
“Don’t make this any more than it is. Dottie knew and loved all of us. And I know she’d be pleased that I brought Serena and Pepé here.”
“Maybe not for the reasons you think.” Paul’s gaze remained on the game, since he was a die-hard football fan, but his quiet comment carried more weight than the others’ teasing.
“What reason do you have in mind, counselor?” Jonas kept his tone light. No sense getting his brothers in a tizzy over what they seemed to think was his overinvolvement with Serena. Or maybe they thought he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting the house.
Or Serena.
Where had that come from? He wasn’t trying to get Serena!
Paul shouted at a fumble before he directed his attention to Jonas.
Jonas was thirty-five and Paul was forty-three, but Jonas still felt like the little brother he’d been whenever Paul had caught him doing something wrong.
Jonas was at once in awe and wary of his brother.
“Dottie was a romantic at heart. Maybe she saw something in Serena she thought would be good for you.”
“Doubtful.” His response was immediate. So was his physical reaction. He clenched his hands, itching to pound the quiet, knowing look off Paul’s face.
“Ooooo, the lady doth protest too much.” Jim could be an annoying ass when he wanted to.
“She’s hot, all right, but isn’t she practically related? I think any relationship between you two would be bad for your offspring.” John never missed a chance for a one-liner.
Jonas fought to keep his jaw from clenching and smiled at his brothers. Judging how stiff his cheeks felt, he was probably sneering. He couldn’t control everything.
“She’s not related to us at all. Dottie wasn’t related to us, except that Dad married her. Not that any of it matters—Serena’s a friend, and I’m trying to be her friend. I’m not going to get the house back with strong-arm tactics, so why shouldn’t I go after it in a nicer way for everyone?”
He expected his brothers to sling more punch lines at him, to ridicule his actions. It was what they did; it was how they handled emotional hot-button issues they didn’t want to talk about openly. It was a childhood position they went back to even as grown men.
Yet Paul, Jim and John remained quiet.
“What, you don’t have an answer to the most sensible way to get what is rightfully mine?”
Paul’s gaze was back on the game, but his lips twitched as if one of the players had turned into Peter from Family Guy. Jim had his stoic “don’t ask me” expression firmly in place. John stared at the floor, not meeting Jonas’s eyes.
The prickle he felt at his nape whenever Serena was around prodded him.
No.
Yes.
“I’m heading out to walk Ronald for a bit. Do you think it’s okay if Pepé hangs out in the house while I go?” Serena stood at the end of the couch, her face calm but her eyes throwing sparks that threatened to ignite Jonas’s humiliation.
Why should he care if she overheard?
Because you sounded like a complete idiot.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SERENA MADE A hasty retreat w
ith Ronald along the path she’d seen from the kitchen window of Paul’s house, leading out to the cliffs. She craved the solace of the woods that lay between the house and the rocky cliffs. Jonas’s family didn’t need to see her come unglued.
Since when had she started thinking of the Scotts as Jonas’s family and not Dottie’s?
She knew all along that Jonas’s niceness stemmed from ulterior motives. He’d made it clear that he wanted “his” house back.
It still hurt every time he confirmed his motives. And in front of his brothers!
A bramble whipped her cheek and she swore at its sting.
Her heart, too, felt as though it’d been flayed by thorns. Jonas wanted the house; he’d never considered it anything less than Dottie’s wish for him to have the place. Even Dottie’s amended will, signed six months before she died, wasn’t enough to convince him.
But Jonas’s desire to get the house he’d dreamed about for the past two deployments wasn’t what angered her. It was her stupid, girlish response to him. She knew full well what he was about. Yet she’d let that little flame of hope stay lit.
“Serena, wait!”
Quick footsteps followed the shout, and when she whipped around she almost crashed into Jonas.
She took a step back.
“Pepé?”
“He’s eating some real food after those cookies. The pizza and wings were delivered right after you ran out.”
“I didn’t ‘run’ out.” Well, it wasn’t actually a run. “I needed to get moving after standing around eating all that sugar.”
“Serena, I’m sorry. What you overheard in there wasn’t anything more than guy talk.”
“Spare me, Jonas. You’ve made it clear from the start that you want Dottie’s house. No matter what.” Anger simmered and mixed with her awareness of him. The tang of Puget Sound hit her, along with the cedar scent of the forest—all ancient, primal, inciting her basest instincts.
“Yes, I have. Before I got to know you and Pepé it was easier, believe me. I thought that buying the land around yours would convince you.”