by Neesa Hart
“Are you as good at being mayor as you are at being a veterinarian and keeper of the mob?”
“I’m not sure I’m particularly good at any of it.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
“Then somebody told you wrong.”
“I heard you do it all, and do it really well.”
“I think it’s more like I do a lot of it and, most of the time, some of it comes out more or less all right.”
Zack laughed, and the slightly tense atmosphere instantly dissipated. “So what if I’m still willing to risk that food fight?”
“Be at my house at ten-thirty Saturday morning. We’ll walk into town.”
“Thanks,” he told her. She would have moved away from him then, but his hand came up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. “I will.”
His face was so close to hers, she felt his breath fan across her cheek in a moist breeze. His hand lingered on her cheek as his gaze held hers for several tense seconds. With the barest hint of a sigh, his thumb dropped to trace the full curve of her lower lip, and the breath drained from her lungs.
His lips parted just as a red convertible turned into the driveway of his house. From her vantage point, August saw the car before he did, and felt an unwanted thread of suspicion weave its way into her contentment. Quickly she slid away from him, surging to her feet. At his confused look, she pointed at his house. “You have company.”
Zack hesitated, then glanced at the driveway. When he saw the car, he frowned. August felt heartened by the frown. Zack stood, pausing to brush the dirt from his jeans. “What the hell does she want?” he said.
“Who knows?” August said, certain that whatever Betsy May Keegan, Odelia’s niece and Keegan’s Bend’s resident blond bombshell, wanted with Zack Adriano, it would be a hell of a lot more appealing than lunch with a neurotic veterinarian and her foster kids. “Thanks again for your help, Zack. I’ve really got to get ready now.”
He grabbed her hand when she would have fled to the house. “Do you want me to bring anything for Saturday?” She paused, then nodded. “You can bring the drinks.” “I’ll be there,” he assured her. “Drinks in hand.” Betsy May had reached the fence and was enthusiastically waving at Zack. August glanced at her, then back at Zack. “If you say so,” she said, then walked away.
Zack snatched up the phone on the fifth ring. “Hello?”
“Well, it’s about time you got there. Where you been, boy?”
He dropped his keys on the kitchen table. “Hello, Jansen.”
“I’ve been trying to call you all night.”
“You have?” Zack wasn’t about to tell Jansen he’d been grilling Betsy May for information about August Trent. Jansen would want answers Zack didn’t have. “Sorry,” he told Jansen. “I was out.”
“You gonna tell me where?”
“Nope.”
“Has this got something to do with your next-door neighbor?”
“Maybe.”
Jansen grunted. “So, you found anything out yet? What’s that old bat Keegan doing?”
“I’m not sure. I had a long talk with her niece today. She seems to think that Odelia’s got an investment scheme going.”
“The Continental Motors deal?”
“Yeah. Odelia’s got a lot of time and money invested in trying to get the plant to locate here.”
“What’s August Trent got to do with Odelia’s financial problems?”
“Don’t know that, either.”
“Well, hell, kid, what have you been doing down there? I’m paying you to take care of this.”
“I’ve only been here two weeks, Jansen. It takes time.”
Another grunt. “How’s your leg?”
Zack’s hand automatically moved to the ever-present throb in his thigh. “All right.” Quickly he changed the subject. He wasn’t ready to discuss his weakness. “Listen, Jansen, are you sure you gave me everything you know about August Trent?”
“Sure, why?”
“And you have no idea why Enid Keegan left her the house?”
“None. Enid was always a kindhearted lady—a little wacky mind you, but a generous soul. I think she got all the decency in that family. Her will said something about the Keegans owing August’s family a debt, but nobody knows what it is. Knowing Enid, some Trent probably helped her cross the street one afternoon. She left August the house just to defy Odelia.”
Zack exhaled a long breath. He knew from the file Jansen had given him that August had been orphaned as a young child, had grown up in the foster system, moving from place to place. The more he learned, the more convinced he became that the pieces of this very convoluted puzzle didn’t fit. Given August’s transitory history, how could Enid possibly have known her family? Even state records didn’t indicate August’s paternity. Why would Enid have had access to that information, and if she did, why hadn’t she done something for August earlier? “I’m going to drive into Hampton Roads tomorrow and search the records” he told Jansen. “There has to be a simple answer to this.”
“Maybe. I just know that if Odelia wants that poor young woman run out of town, it’s worth our while to save her.”
Across the yard, Zack heard the squeals and laughter of young voices, accompanied by a lower, richer, feminine laugh that he found alarmingly attractive. “Sure, Jansen. Don’t worry. I’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“I know you will. And stay off that leg.”
“Got it.”
“Call me when you know something.”
Zack promised he would, then replaced the phone in its cradle. Through the curtained window, he saw the shadows moving about in August’s house. A distinctly feminine form wielded a pillow as four small bodies rushed her from behind.
The scene made a slow ache spread through his chest. August, he knew, wasn’t the type of woman who dealt in artifice and innuendo. With her, everything was the genuine article. He’d have to be a first-class bastard to deceive her.
His fingers tightened on the window frame as he listened to the sounds of laughter mingling with the night song of the crickets and cicadas. In the shadows, her voluptuous form all but begged for a man’s hands—his hands. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d reacted to a woman the way he reacted to August. One look from her bourboncolored eyes and his insides went into meltdown. With no effort at all, he pictured her with her lips slightly swollen and damp, a delicate, peach-tinted flush staining her face beneath the enchanting line of freckles that swept the bridge of her nose. Zack felt something clench like a fist in his gut as he remembered her wary I’m-not-sure-I-trust- you expression.
Don’t, he’d wanted to tell her. Whatever you do, don’t trust me. You’re the kind of woman who wants roots, who makes roots. I could never give you that.
Already he was torn between his sense of responsibility to Jansen and his attraction to August. As he watched the bedtime ritual unfold in her home, he remembered similar nights, when bedtime hadn’t meant a lonely house. In his briefcase sat the files Jansen had given him to study. Some lingering casework for his firm also awaited his attention, but somehow, the thought of falling asleep amid a stack of legal briefs and paperwork didn’t hold the appeal it once had.
Without pausing to think, he punched out a number on the phone, then sank into a chair. He’d never thought he’d miss the sound of children playing, but tonight he felt oddly lonely, on the far side of the fence from the joy in the Trent household. Tonight, he’d tell his nieces a bed- time story over the phone. There’d be time enough to worry about Jansen Riley in the morning.
August leaned back against the pillows in her fourposter bed as she thoughtfully contemplated using the coffee-can telephone line between her house and Zack’s. She’d deliberately delayed the boys’ bedtime tonight, for her sake and theirs.
August had needed the evening’s playtime to regain control of her jumbled emotions. The boy’s casual affection softened her anxiety. They seemed content. If they sensed her growing frustratio
n with Odelia, they didn’t show it. Even Lucas had indulged in the pillow fight. Once, she’d caught him deliberately missing a blow to Chip’s midsection. With a smile, she remembered the Idare-you-to-mention-it look he’d given her when he saw her watching him.
To any casual observer, the raucous play would have seemed natural enough. Only August sensed the threads of tension that lay beneath the laughter. As hard as she’d worked to make her boys feel secure, she still sensed their fear. She shared it. They’d needed tonight. All of them. The security and warmth had been as necessary as oxygen.
But during the all-too-short moments of childish joy, she’d been unable to forget the strangely haunted look she’d seen in Zack’s eyes that evening. Betsy May had dropped him off just as August was calling the boys in for the night. From her spot on the porch, she’d watched his labored progress toward Jansen’s house. As if he sensed her scrutiny, he’d paused to meet her gaze. For the barest hint of a second, she’d seen an aching loneliness in his expression. She might have missed it, had she not seen that particular look staring back at her from the mirror most of her adolescent life. Across the yard, his gaze had found hers, and she’d seen the vulnerable spark, an instant before his lazy smile chased it away.
He’d said good-night with a detachment that left her feeling strangely hollow. As she watched him limp away, something in the too-straight line of his shoulders, the slight tilt of his head, had begged her to soothe away his ache—an ache she was willing to bet owed little to the physical pain of his injury.
If there was one human ailment August knew how to treat, it was loneliness. She’d cured herself out of it enough times to be America’s leading expert on the subject. Instinct told her that Zack Adriano was going to be trouble. The way she reacted to him gave her proof enough of that. A tiny voice warned her that he was a grown man, not a little boy in need of comfort. Zack could take care of himself. But she couldn’t put that look from her mind. He might, almost certainly would, hurt her later, but she couldn’t make herself turn away from him.
Now, as she studied the coffee can, she weighed the consequences of “calling” Zack, and found them outmatched by her wish to chase away the darkness in his gaze.
Her hand was halfway to the can when it rattled.
A tingle of anticipation raced through her. She pulled the can to her ear. “Hello?”
“August?”
Zack’s voice skittered along her skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake. “Hello.”
“Did I wake you?”
“No, I was going to call you.”
“You were?”
She smiled at the surprise in his voice. “What’s the matter, Counselor? Aren’t you used to having strange women rattle your coffee can in the middle of the night?”
His laugh warmed her like a buttered rum on a winter night. “There’s nothing strange about you.”
“You haven’t known me long enough.”
“Are you kidding? I live in New York. I know all about strange people.”
August burrowed deeper beneath the covers. There was something strangely erotic and forbidden about talking to him in quiet whispers through the mouthpiece of the coffee can. To use the connection in his room, he’d have to be seated on his bed. The thought of his big, bronzed body, partially clad, stretched full-length across white sheets, had her pushing the covers back from her suddenly heated flesh. “You, uh, looked tired tonight. I wondered if you were hurting a lot.”
“Would I get that rubdown if I said yes?”
“No, but I could give you Jack Rutherford’s number. He’s the doctor in town. Maybe you might want to have him take a look at your injury.”
“I think I just walked too much. If it gets bad, I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t put it off too long.”
“Yes, ma’am”
The quip embarrassed her. She should have known better than to interfere. Zack was way out of her league, and the sooner she realized it, the better. If he wanted her advice, he’d have asked for it. “Well, I was just concerned. Glad to hear you’re all right. I won’t bother you again.”
“August” His abrupt tone kept her from hanging up.
She wet the corner of her mouth. “Hmm?”
“Don’t you want to know why I called?”
“I know why you called.”
“You do?”
“Sure. You called to complain about the noise over here tonight.”
“You think so?”
“Why else?” she asked. “Bedtime was a tittle more rambunctious than normal. I wanted to give the guys some time to let off steam.”
“As a matter of fact, I didn’t even notice the noise.”
“Liar. I saw you watching us.”
He paused. “Okay, maybe I noticed, but I didn’t call to complain.”
Her fingers tightened on the can. She had the distinct feeling that the conversation was about to veer out of control. Zack was going to say the kind of thing that normal adult men told normal adult women when they called them in the middle of the night. “You didn’t?” She couldn’t keep herself from asking the question, despite the warning bells clanging in her head.
“No. I called to tell you I just spoke with Jansen Riley.”
Her limbs felt suddenly weak. She couldn’t define whether the sensation was relief or disappointment. “Riley?”
“Hmm. He’s concerned about what’s going on in Keegan’s Bend.”
August felt her nerve endings tingle. She knew very little about Jansen Riley—had, in fact, only met him once. His antagonism toward the Keegans, however, was legendary. Though August didn’t know what had started the feud, the last thing she needed was another adversary in Keegan’s Bend. Thus far, Jansen had remained steadfastly absent. And she hoped it stayed that way. “What does Jansen Riley have to do with this?”
“I’m not sure, but I’m going to find out. I just wanted you to know that up front.” She wondered if she imagined the soft whisper of his exhaled breath. “Jansen asked me to come to Keegan’s Bend and look into this.”
“I see.”
“I’m not sure you do. I’m here to help you, August. I’m not the enemy.”
“I’m not sure why Jansen cares or why he thought you needed to spy on me. I’m not hurting him.”
“Odelia is trying to buy his property, too.”
“She wants to cash in on Continental Motors. That’s not exactly a big secret. If he wants to sell, that’s up to him.”
“I think there’s more to Odelia’s plan than that.”
“You do?” She clamped down on the swirling fear in her belly.
“Yeah. And I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”
“Because Jansen’s paying you to watch me?”
“No. It’s not like that. I want to help you. I just wanted to deal off the top of the deck with you. Jansen Riley asked me to come here, but that’s not the only reason I stayed. I’d feel like I was lying to you if I didn’t tell you that.”
She squashed an angry retort. “Look, this is all very interesting, but I’m sure by now you have nothing to tell Jansen except that he owns the building next door to a nuthouse.”
“I wish you would stop thinking I’m spying on you. I respect you. And I frankly don’t think Odelia has the right, legally or morally, to do what she’s doing to you. That’s why I’m involved. The only thing I’m doing for Jansen is protecting his investment.”
She hesitated. Jansen had a right to protect his property. It seemed absurd to resent him for it. “Do you really think you can do anything?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re welcome to try. I think I should warn you, though, that I’ve already had a lawyer look into this. Odelia is determined to prove I’ve no right to the house. She’ll stop at nothing to have her sister’s will reversed.”
“You’ve had a small-town attorney. You haven’t had me,” he said, with a calm assurance that made her heart skip a beat.”
“No, I
haven’t.”
He seemed to sense the sudden tension in her. She practically heard his fingers tightening on the can, his body shifting on the big bed. “But you could,” he drawled. “You know that, don’t you?”
Her mouth went dry. For the first time in a long time, she was left completely speechless.
“August? You still there?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded like a frog’s croak.
“Sooner or later, we’re going to have to talk about this. But for now, I just think we should go into it with our eyes open.”
“Zack, I—”
Before she could finish the protest, he gave the can a slight jerk. It tugged against her hands. “Just think about it,” he told her. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
“What if—”
“Good night, August.”
Her eyes fluttered shut. “Good night, Zack.” She replaced the coffee can on its peg. Sinking back against the pillows, she lay awake, shivering despite the heated breeze of the warm summer night.
Chapter Three
She must have been out of her mind, August thought on Saturday morning as she dumped three packages of onionsoup mix and two cartons of sour cream into a bowl. She gave the mixture a hard stir. What in the world could she have been thinking, to ask Zack Adriano to share the day with them? Even on their best behavior, the boys were a handful. From her office window, the afternoon he helped her with the goats, she’d seen him walking through town with Betsy May clinging to him like white on rice. She felt quite certain he wasn’t ready to experience the boisterous atmosphere of a day with the Trents, when he’d no doubt had the opportunity for a quiet afternoon with the Keegans.
At the thought, August smiled. She could just imagine what the Fourth of July with Odelia Keegan was like. She didn’t even know enough swearwords to describe that kind of hell on earth. Still, with Zack living next door for the rest of the summer, life would be easier if he didn’t think of her boys as an uncontrollable horde. When a loud crash sounded upstairs, August rolled her eyes. At times, they certainly gave every impression of being a horde, uncontrollable or not.