Alayna saw the tenseness in his shoulders, heard it in his clipped order. Avoidance. She knew the symptoms well. And knew, too, how unhealthy the tactic was.
She crossed to his toolbox, found the scraper he'd requested, then returned, holding it out to him as she studied his profile. "Divorce can be painful," she offered quietly, hoping to draw him back into the conversation. But he didn't bite. The only sign that he'd heard her was an increased tenseness in his jaw. His gaze remained fixed on the wall.
"Was yours a painful divorce?" she asked, angling her head to better see his face, his expression.
Jack flung the paper he'd just torn from the wall to the floor and bent to pick up the paintbrush again. His lips remained stubbornly pressed together as he swiped water over a new section of faded wallpaper with angry strokes.
His refusal to talk about his divorce told Alayna what he refused to admit. His divorce had been painful. From experience, she knew that talking helped. "Jack?" she prodded gently. "Was it painful?"
He tossed his paintbrush back into the can, then looked at her over his shoulder. "Don't try crawling around in my head, Doc. You might not like what you find."
Alayna refused to let him intimidate her. "Sounds as if you've had experience with a psychologist. Judging by your tone, it wasn't a very happy one. Is that true?"
"Bingo," he muttered bitterly and picked up his paintbrush again. "Paid a damn fortune to spill my guts to some tight-assed, sanctimonious stranger who sat in a chair and mumbled 'hmm' all the time. When that didn't work, I paid another wad of money in attorney fees." Slowly he turned to look at Alayna, his mouth thinned in a grim, thin line. "Now there's somebody you might enjoy psychoanalyzing, Doc. My ex's divorce lawyer. Smiled the whole time he was ripping out my heart and draining the blood right out of me. I'll bet you'd get a kick out of digging around in his gray matter."
Unaffected by his bitter tone, Alayna listened, enthralled. Jack was talking. This was good.
"Cats, children, divorce lawyers." She ticked off each on her fingers, as if making a list, then glanced up at him, teasing him with a smile. "Is there anything or anyone else I should add to your list of dislikes?"
His scowled deepened. "Yeah. Angel-faced psychologists. They really get under my skin." He picked up the scraper and tossed it to her. She caught it deftly in one hand. "Now, are you going to yap your jaws all day, or are you going to work?"
"Oddly enough," she replied, unoffended, "I can talk and work at the same time. Can you?"
"Yeah," he replied irritably, "if the topic's interesting." He stooped to pick up his paintbrush again, then turned his back to her. "Unfortunately, this particular one bores me stiff."
* * *
Three
« ^ »
"Maudie tells me that you've hired a new remodeler."
Alayna handed Mandy a glass of iced tea, then shuddered visibly as she sank onto a patio chair opposite her cousin. "Yes, and I can just imagine what all Maudie had to say on that subject."
"Oh, let's see," Mandy replied, tapping a finger against her chin, as if trying to recall the details of the conversation. "Something about Frank scamming you out of thousands of dollars, and what a softhearted little fool you are. Then I believe she mentioned something about this man you hired to replace Frank being a good-looking hunk, and that she is sure you hired him just to satisfy this insatiable need of yours for wild sex and—"
Alayna snorted. "Oh, yeah," she said sarcastically, "that was it, all right."
"—and," Mandy continued pointedly, trying hard not to smile, "this same man—the one, by the way, who was hired strictly for his sexual prowess—will also steal you blind, the same as Frank did." She lifted her glass of tea, and smiled at Alayna from behind it. "I think that's about all she had to say on the subject."
Alayna arched a brow. "Are you sure?" she asked dryly.
Mandy tossed back her head and laughed. "No. But those are the best parts."
Annoyed, Alayna folded her arms beneath her breasts and crossed her legs, her foot pumping like an oil derrick. "I swear. I love Maudie to death, but there are times…"
"I know, I know," Mandy agreed, still laughing. "But she means well."
In spite of her annoyance, Alayna found herself chuckling, too, as she thought of Maudie with her mother-hen-heart and her bossy ways. "Yes. It's her only redeeming quality."
Mandy nodded her agreement, then glanced around. "Where is he, anyway? I thought for sure I would be interrupting something really sordid by dropping by without calling first."
"He went to town to pick up some supplies."
"Oh, well. Maybe next time." As she sipped her tea, Mandy continued to look around, making note of the changes since her last visit. "You've really done a lot with the place."
Alayna followed her cousin's gaze, smiling her pleasure at all she'd managed to accomplish. Frank had completed a lot of the work before he'd run out on her, and after only a week, Jack had done quite a bit more. "Yes, but there's still a lot to be done."
"All in due time."
Alayna's brow creased with worry. "But that's just it. I don't know how much time I have. I want to be ready if they should call and have more children needing a home."
Mandy leaned over and gave Alayna's knee a comforting pat. "You'll be ready." She smiled at the doubt she saw in Alayna's eyes. "Have I told you that I'm proud of you?"
Alayna blushed, uncomfortable with the praise. "About a thousand times."
Mandy settled back in her chair. "Well, I can't say it enough. Few women would consider doing what you are doing, and fewer still would be able to do it well."
Alayna scooted to the edge of her chair, reaching out to clasp her cousin's hand in hers. "Oh, Mandy," she said her voice filled with doubt. "I want to do this well, I really do, but I'm frightened. Billy and Molly seem to be doing well enough, but what if I somehow fail these children and do them more harm than good?"
Mandy set aside her tea glass and leaned forward, taking both of Alayna's hands in hers and squeezing. "You won't let them down. You have years of experience dealing with troubled children, and the sincere desire to help them. That's all that's truly required. That and a whole lot of love, which you seem to have in abundance."
With emotion clogging her throat, Alayna gave Mandy's hands a grateful squeeze. "Thanks, cuz. After the run-in I had with the bus driver and my inability to persuade him or the district's transportation department to rescind his decision, I needed to hear that."
"Don't worry about that old cranky bus driver. Jaime doesn't mind driving the kids to school." Impulsively Mandy leaned and pecked a kiss on Alayna's cheek, then pressed a fingertip to the spot as she leaned back to meet her cousin's gaze. "We're glad you're here," she said softly. "All of us. And we're glad that you've decided to make the Pond House and the Double-Cross Heart Ranch your home."
Alayna looked around, her fingers still clasped tightly around Mandy's. "It feels like home," she said, and at that moment realized the truth in the statement. She cut her gaze back to Mandy's and grinned. "Do you remember when we were younger, and Daddy would bring us here for visits in the summer, and we'd have those wonderful sleepovers, with all the cousins camped out in one room?"
Mandy sighed wistfully, releasing Alayna's hand to settle back in her chair. "Oh, we had some good times, didn't we? Sam was always thinking up daredevil things for us to do. Remember the time we put baby oil and flour in Merideth's hair while she was sleeping?"
Alayna laughed, the sound rich and full in the quiet afternoon. "Do I ever! Merideth was furious. She always hated getting her hair or her clothes messed up."
Mandy chuckled. "And she hasn't changed a bit. She's still as persnickety as ever about her appearance. Just the other day—"
"Excuse me."
Alayna and Mandy both jumped at the unexpected intrusion.
Alayna's breath came out in a rush when she saw Jack standing at the edge of the patio. "Oh, my stars, Jack," she cried, laughing weak
ly. "You nearly scared the life out of me."
Jack cut a glance from Alayna to the woman sitting beside her, then back. "Sorry. I brought the paint samples to show you, but they can wait." He turned to go, but Alayna called out to him, stopping him.
"Jack! Wait!" When he turned, she rose, and Mandy stood as well. Wrapping an arm at her cousin's waist, Alayna drew Mandy with her as she crossed to him. "I want you to meet my cousin, Mandy McCloud Barrister. Mandy, this is Jack Cordell."
Mandy extended her hand in greeting, a smile much like Alayna's warming her eyes as she peered up at him. "Hi, Jack. I've heard a lot about you." She gave Alayna an arched look, one that Jack didn't understand, then returned her gaze to his, adding, "And I have to say that you are all Maudie described and more."
Remembering the sharp-tongued waitress from the café and her comments about his predecessor Frank, Jack frowned, not at all sure what the woman might have said about him. "Pleased to meet you," he mumbled uneasily.
Mandy's smile widened as if at some private joke. "The pleasure is all mine, I assure you." She withdrew her hand and turned to Alayna. "Well, I guess I better get back to the house. Jesse and Jaime will be coming home soon and wanting their dinner." Her eyes brightened. "Why don't y'all have dinner with us? We'd love to have you." She looked at Jack, including him in the invitation. "I know that my husband and son will want to meet you and welcome you to the Double-Cross. How about it?"
Alayna saw the look of alarm slowly spreading across Jack's face, the way his fingers convulsed on the paint samples he still held. But to her way of thinking an evening in the company of a happily married couple might be just what Jack needed, since his own experience in matrimony seemed to have left nothing but negative memories. "Thanks, Mandy," she replied before Jack could respond, "we'd love to."
Jack whipped his head around to frown at her. "You and the kids can go. I'm not much on socializing." He gave his head a quick bob in Mandy's direction. "If you'll excuse me, I've got work to do."
Alayna's heart sank as she watched him stalk away.
"Was it something I said?" Mandy asked uncertainly.
Alayna forced a smile and slung an arm around her cousin's shoulder as she walked with her to her truck. "No. It's Jack. He is—well, I don't know what he is exactly. Sad. Bitter." She stopped at the side of her cousin's truck and gave Mandy a squeeze before withdrawing her arm. "But mainly just stubborn."
"Is he dangerous?"
Alayna started to laugh, but quickly swallowed it when she saw the seriousness in Mandy's expression. "No," she said, shaking her head, instinctively knowing somehow that her claim was true. "He's not dangerous." She glanced toward the barn and watched as Jack heaved a stack of two-by-fours over the side of his truck. The muscles in his arms bulged with the effort. "Angry," she said, recognizing the signs, but unsure of their source. "Mad at the world," she added, noting his dark expression. She looked back at Mandy and smiled reassuringly. "But not dangerous."
"You'll still bring the kids over for dinner, won't you?"
"Of course I will," Alayna assured her. "What time do you want us?"
Jack grabbed another stack of two-by-fours, muscles straining, and tossed them over the side of his truck. Bracing his hands at his hips, he hauled in a deep breath, then slowly blew it out. He glanced toward the drive in time to see Mandy leave.
A son, she'd said. She'd wanted him to have dinner with her husband and her son. Bringing a shaky hand to his forehead, he swiped at the sweat that had popped out on his forehead. Sharing meals with Alayna and her brood of kids was unnerving enough, but the thought of sharing a dinner with a family was worse.
In fact, it sounded a whole lot like hell to Jack.
Dusk had settled over the countryside by the time Alayna returned home from her cousin's and tucked the children into bed for the night. After picking up their clothes from the bathroom floor where they'd left them, she slipped into Molly's room, deciding to check on her little charges one more time before heading downstairs for the night.
She smiled down at the sleeping Molly, then drew the sheet a little closer to the child's chin. Molly sighed in her sleep and hugged the ragged teddy bear she slept with closer to her chest. The teddy bear was all that Molly had arrived with when she'd been delivered to Alayna. That and the clothes on her back.
Molly's story was a sad, if familiar one. Her mother, a drug addict, left her alone for days at a time, with no food, no one to look after her, while she chased the next fix, or the man who could buy it for her. Repeated complaints from neighbors in the apartment complex where Molly and her mother had lived had resulted in the child being taken away from her mother.
And now she was in Alayna's care.
Though physically the child didn't appear to have suffered from her mother's neglect, the emotional scars were there. The child never smiled, rarely spoke and she never let the ragged teddy bear out of her sight or reach.
Smiling wistfully, Alayna smoothed the child's hair from her forehead and placed a light kiss there. Two weeks. Two weeks she'd had Molly with her, and she had already fallen hopelessly in love. She drew a fingertip lightly down the length of the child's freckled nose, wondering why God would see fit to bless Molly's mother with a child, a woman who obviously didn't want the burden, and not herself, who would gladly sacrifice anything for the opportunity to give birth to a baby.
She straightened, shoving the bitter thought aside. She had children, she reminded herself. Two already, and the promise of more to come.
With that positive thought, she crossed the hall to Billy's room.
As usual, she found him sprawled on his stomach and the bed covers tangled at the foot of the bed. An action figure lay beneath his lax fingers. Billy never just went to bed and to sleep, as other children did. He fought sleep as if it were an enemy that would capture him and never let him go. Though Alayna insisted on a strict bedtime schedule, Billy always took a toy to bed with him, a compromise they'd arrived at together. He'd play with the toy until he collapsed from sheer exhaustion.
Alayna knew less about Billy's history than she did about Molly's, and she wondered what events in his life caused him to fear sleep so much. He avoided any questions she asked, and was a master at changing the subject to a less invasive one. She knew that he'd been in another foster home before being assigned to her, but all she'd been told was that the prior situation simply hadn't worked out.
With a regretful shake of her head, she withdrew the toy from beneath his small hand, placed it on the shelf Jack had built on the wall beside the bed, then pulled the sheet up and over him, tucking it around his slender shoulders. In time, she told herself, she'd discover his secrets, what nightmares had shaped his life, and she would help him deal with them.
She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead, just as she had to Molly's, knowing full well he'd never accept the affectionate display if awake. She tiptoed from his room, relieved to know that her little charges were settled peacefully for the night.
That just left Jack to deal with.
Pensively she started down the stairs. Although she'd enjoyed having dinner with Mandy's family, and watching Molly and Billy interact in a family setting, she hadn't been able to keep thoughts of Jack far from her mind. In her estimation, the look of alarm that had come into his eyes when Mandy had offered the dinner invitation signaled more than just an antisocial behavior. A whole lot more. And she was determined to find out what spawned the reaction.
At the kitchen door, she glanced in the direction of the cabin, intending to seek him out, but found the cabin dark. Certain that he wouldn't have gone to bed so early, she glanced toward the pond. In the gathering dusk, she saw him sitting on the edge of the weathered pier that jutted out over the water's mirrorlike surface. She stepped out onto the patio, closing the door softly behind her, then stopped and drew in a deep, shuddering breath, her gaze still fixed on his shadowed form.
He looked so lonely sitting there, staring out at the hori
zon … yet so unbelievably sexy. A dangerous combination to her way of thinking. He sat with one leg raised, an elbow hooked over his knee. His position placed a strain on the back of his black T-shirt, pulling the knit fabric taut across his back. Broad shoulders. Firm pads of muscle. She sighed as she traced the long, bumpy path of his spine with her gaze until it disappeared beneath the waist of his jeans. Maudie was right, she reflected lustfully. He is a good-looking hunk.
And she had about as much business thinking lusty thoughts as she did—well, she didn't have any business thinking such thoughts about Jack Cordell, or any man, for that matter. As a woman, she had nothing to offer Jack. But as a psychologist, she reminded herself, she could possibly help him exorcize the demons that had robbed him of his smile, and left him so bitter and withdrawn.
Knowing full well he probably wouldn't welcome the company, she headed for the pier.
"You missed a good dinner."
His shoulders tensed at the sound of her voice, but he didn't turn around. Nor did he respond. She frowned at his back, but refused to let his indifference warn her off. She started down the planked pier, feeling its slight roll beneath her feet. "I think you would've enjoyed meeting Mandy's husband, Jesse, and their son, Jaime."
He squinted his eyes, staring hard at the sliver of red sun that seemed to have snagged on the peak of the highest hill. "I'm not much on socializing."
She dropped down beside him, drawing up her legs and tucking the long hem of her dress behind them. "So you've said." She angled her head to peer at him. "Still, I think you'd enjoy meeting Jesse and Jaime. Molly and Billy really like them, and they don't accept people easily." When he offered nothing in return, she stifled a sigh of frustration and turned her gaze on the sunset, too.
The sky was streaked with color—vibrant reds, soft purples, seductive blues.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" she said softly, enchanted as always by the dramatic display. His noncommittal grunt won a frown from her—though she received little satisfaction in making the gesture since he stubbornly refused to look at her, or acknowledge her presence. Unwilling to let his indifference chase her away, she turned her attention back to the horizon. Silence stretched between them, broken only by the croaking of frogs along the bank and the musical call of cicadas from the tall clumps of grass growing around it. The sounds brought back a wealth of memories.
That McCloud Woman Page 4