“You know damn well what you did.”
“You’re wrong. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You left me in jail to rot for a crime I didn’t commit.”
Brenna winced at the harshness of his accusation. “Excuse me?” she squeaked. Surely, she’d misunderstood him.
While looking at her, Ace hit a pot hole that jarred Brenna’s teeth. “Do you know how many days I sat in that rotten jail waiting for you to come forward and tell the sheriff I was innocent?”
She opened her mouth, but the words stuck somewhere between her esophagus and the back of her throat.
“What’s the matter?” he ground out. “No quick lies? Or flip remarks?”
Fighting the seatbelt, she twisted her body toward him. “You’re the liar! I signed an affidavit in front of a notary about what happened. The lawyer said it would be admissible in court.
“The truth is that once you were free, you took off and never looked back. Never once thought about me and our ba…” She clamped her mouth shut and hunched in her seat. She refused to talk about the baby to anyone, especially Ace.
Ace slammed on the brakes. He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to face her, leaning his back against the door. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t yell at me.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
“I have, damn it. My father brought the affidavit—”
“Your father?” Ace laughed. “Now I understand.”
Brenna rubbed her temple. The damn headache had returned. “Understand what?”
“The day before my transfer to Thomaston State Prison to await trial, your father showed up with the affidavit. He didn’t tell me who’d given it. Said it didn’t matter. Since there were only four of us the night Billie fell on his knife, I assumed Clay Brody had a guilt attack and decided to tell the truth about the fight.”
The breath caught in her throat. The man she’d loved more than her own life had spent time in jail? She took a ragged breath and reached to lightly touch his cheek. “If you believed that, no wonder you’re angry.” Tears slipped down her face. “That’s why you left.”
Ace swatted her hand away. “That’s only the tip of the iceberg.”
Fear rushed through her body. “What do you mean?”
“Not tonight, Brenna. I don’t trust myself to talk about it tonight.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. “The night Billie died…right after the authorities took you away, I started bleeding. My parents rushed me to the hospital in Machias. The doctor ordered complete bed rest for the rest of my pregnancy. He said if I didn’t stay in bed, I’d lose the baby. That’s why I couldn’t come to see you.”
She waited—hoped—for Ace to ask about their baby. The child that had been conceived in love. The one who never got the opportunity to live. How could he just sit there and say nothing? A bowling ball of disappointment sat heavy in her chest. Ace started the SUV and never said another word for the rest of the drive.
He finally broke the silence when he turned to drive up the long hill to her farm. “Are you going to see Julienne tomorrow?”
Brenna stared straight ahead. It would hurt too much to look at him. “I’ll call first to see what the procedure is.”
“Procedure for what? To visit?” He braked in front of the rundown farmhouse.
For the first time in a long time, Brenna saw her home through the eyes of a stranger. The paint had peeled off the clapboards. The roof needed to be replaced. Window frames had rotted. “If she has no family who’s willing to take her in, I’d like to adopt her.”
In the lights from the dash, Brenna watched Ace’s facial muscles tighten. “Now what’s wrong?” she demanded. Why should wanting to adopt Julienne make him angry?
“Not a damn thing. Just didn’t see you as the motherly type.”
His coldly spoken words hurt. They also riled her temper. “You don’t know a damn thing about me. I’m beginning to wonder if you ever did.” She opened the door and jumped out. Before she made it to the porch, Ace peeled out, scattering gravel in all directions.
Brenna bent to fish the house key from under the doormat and squinted when the porch light flickered on. Great. As the door opened, she straightened and faced her mother. Oh yeah. No doubt about it. Doris MacKenzie had that wrath-of-God look on her face.
Brenna had fought a losing battle most of her life to get along with her parents.
“Not tonight, Mama.” She hoped to put off until tomorrow her mother’s cross-examination of the day’s events. “I’m tired, my feet hurt, and I have one hell of a headache.”
Doris stepped aside to allow Brenna entrance. Wearing a frayed, pink chenille bathrobe, her hair in curlers and an unlit Camel hanging from the side of her mouth, she resembled a cartoon caricature.
“Who brought you home?” her mother asked in her usual hoarse voice.
“None of your business.”
“As long as you’re living in my house, young lady, it is my bus—”
Brenna cut off the tirade. “Mama, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have this farm to live in. So no threats. Not tonight.” She refused to feel guilty when her mother’s shoulders slumped.
She followed Brenna down the hall. “Anson’s going to be fine. It was just a shoulder wound.”
“Good for Anson. Do they know who shot him?”
“Nathan Cutler from the Bluffs. He was angry because Anson foreclosed on his trailer.”
“Nathan Cutler has five children. Now he’s homeless because of Anson.”
Her mother jumped to Anson’s defense. “Anson’s a business man. He was only doing his job. You’ll have to accept that. Nathan defaulted on his loan—”
Brenna started toward the stairs. “Good night, Mama.”
“Where’s your beautiful wedding dress? We have to reschedule the wedding.”
Brenna faced her mother. “Read my lips. There will be no wedding. I am not marrying Anson Carter. Think of what happened today as a sign from God.”
Her mother’s jaw dropped open. The Camel fell to the floor. “But we’ll lose the farm.”
Brenna climbed the stairs. The whine in her mother’s voice fed her headache. “Things will look better in the morning. At least that’s what you always told me.”
At the moment she wanted to collapse on her bed and sleep for the next twenty-four hours. She flipped the light switch in her room and gasped at the man reclining on her bed.
“We’ve got to talk, Brenna.”
Chapter Five
Brenna’s surprise turned to rage. “How the hell did you get in here?”
A hand touched her shoulder. Brenna whirled to face the woman who’d given birth to her. “I brought him.” I picked him up at the emergency room.”
Brenna had made her decision and nothing Anson could say would change her mind. “Take him somewhere else. He’s not welcome in this house. I told you. There’ll be no wedding.”
Anson rubbed his injured shoulder with his right hand. “I only want a few minutes of your time.” Other than his face being pale, the sling was the only indication he’d been laying face first in a pool of blood a few hours ago. He smiled. “Please, Brenna.”
“It’s the least you can do,” her mother said. “After running off and leaving him at the altar.”
“Doris, if you’d leave us alone…” Anson’s soft voice carried the tone of authority that Brenna had come to hate.
Like a grunt soldier, her mother nodded.
Mr. Control Freak Anson was in for a big surprise. She was through being intimidated. “Leave the door open, Mama.”
“Sit beside me,” Anson coaxed, patting a spot on the mattress. “You look exhausted.”
The pain in Brenna’s head brought a wave of nausea. “Say what you have to say and get out.”
The blue eyes narrowed. “You’ve been with Ace Bear. I can almost smell Indian on your clothes.”
She stiffened at his bigot
ry. “Where I’ve been and who I’ve been with is none of your concern.”
Anson’s gaze wandered up and down her body. “How fortunate for you—to get laid on what was to be our wedding night.”
She wanted to slug him. “You’re an arrogant son-of-a-bitch.”
The faded blue eyes sparkled with satisfaction. “So unladylike. One of the many things about you that turns me on.”
Brenna pointed at the door. “Get out. My mother can take you home.”
Anson fumbled with one hand to rearrange the pillows behind him. “I hope Bear was satisfied. He paid enough to get between your legs.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Confusion, mixed with a hint of dread, trickled through her. “Spit it out, Anson. I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“So he didn’t tell you?” He chuckled. “Bear came by the bank day before yesterday. He not only paid for the months your mortgage was in arrears, he paid off the entire balance. He now owns this farm.”
The roar of the surf sounded in her ears. She stumbled on her way to the Boston rocker and sank onto the hard seat. How many more revelations would she have to hear tonight? Why hadn’t Ace told her? “If this is some sick joke—”
“It’s no joke.” Anson shrugged his good shoulder. “Not that it changes anything between us. The mortgage wasn’t the main reason you agreed to marry me.”
Brenna wasn’t sure what pounded more, her heart or her head. “Listen up, Anson. I’m not going to say it again. There’ll be no wedding. Colin is on his own.”
Other than the jerk of a muscle under his left eye, Anson kept his anger under control. “So Bear comes sniffing around, and you’re willing to desert your family?”
She continued to massage her temple, wishing her headache would vanish along with Anson. “Seeing Ace brought me to my senses.”
Anson swung his feet to the floor. “You’ll change your mind.”
She rocked forward in the chair. “Never. It’s over, Anson. I’m calling the shots from now on.”
“We’ll see.” Anson swayed and grabbed the headboard with his good hand. “I’ll be in touch. Count on it.” He took a few steps and swayed again. “Mind helping me down the stairs? I’m a bit woozy.”
She shivered. No way was she touching him. “I’ll get my mother.”
From the peak of the high knoll, Ace scanned the gray headstones below. He’d always loved this view of the ocean, so he’d made it part of the route for his morning run. The muscles in his back tensed when he spotted the woman kneeling at the base of one of the fanciest stones in the cemetery.
Brenna. She’d been on his mind since he’d dropped her off at the farm last night. Head bent, her long black hair spilled down her back from beneath a navy blue watch cap. Once that hair had flowed like pure silk through his fingers. He couldn’t deny he ached to touch it again.
Why would she pick such a cold day to visit her father’s grave? Hell, why visit the old man’s grave at all? Especially after what he’d told her last night.
Ace relaxed his fisted hands inside his coat pockets. He wasn’t ready to face Brenna today. He needed to purge himself of the anger festering inside.
Granted, discovering Daniel had lied to both of them had been a shock. Still, that didn’t vindicate Brenna. She’d handed their child over to strangers.
Icy fingers spread down his spine. Could Daniel have lied about that, too?
He shook his head. The idea was too preposterous. Brenna was a warrior. If she’d wanted Kayden, she’d have fought tooth and nail to keep her. There were laws to prevent Daniel from taking the child without Brenna’s approval.
Ace pivoted, intending to walk away, took two steps and stopped. He turned back and made his way down the slope with the agility of his ancestors. Not a rock moved or rolled. The years spent with the Cree in Quebec had taught him to incorporate the old ways into a modern world.
Ace lost his stride, along with much of his anger, the closer he got to Brenna. Beneath the heavy wool peacoat, her shoulders shook.
He cocked his head and listened. Crying at Daniel’s grave? How could anyone, even a daughter, shed tears for that bastard? He cursed beneath his breath. As much as he hated the old man, he accepted the truth. If not for Daniel MacKenzie, Ace wouldn’t have his beautiful daughter.
Visions of Kayden laughing, running barefoot with her Cree cousins, hardened the soft feelings for Brenna, trying to worm their way into his heart. Once she had been the love of his life—his sole reason for staying in this bigoted town. Now she was the reason he had to do his job and get out.
As much as the love they’d once shared wouldn’t vacate his mind, he didn’t think he could forgive her giving up Kayden without as much as a peek at the newborn. Red skin brat. Daniel’s words still had the power to raise his fury. Once Ace had made an error in judgment regarding Brenna. He’d not make that same mistake again.
How could she love someone else’s child and not her own? He pushed away the memory of Brenna holding Julienne last night.
He forced one foot in front of the other, stopping several feet away. “Quite a show. I didn’t realize how much you loved your father.”
The sobbing ceased. Hell, it looked like she’d quit breathing. He took a few more steps.
Her mittened hands loosened their grip on the gray granite. She swiped the sleeve of her coat over her face, before turning to sit on the ground. “Are you stalking me, Ace?” she asked, defiance in her voice, as she leaned against the stone.
He laughed. “Hell, no. I happened to see you down here and thought I’d say hello.”
“Why? You can’t stand the sight of me. You made that clear last night.”
Leave it to Brenna to cut to the chase. Never had wasted time with small talk. He almost felt the need to shield himself from the sparks of anger shooting from the icy depths of her eyes. Years of training enabled him to keep his emotions hidden. Yet, her bitterness threw him off balance. Wasn’t he the wronged party here?
“I know that you paid off the mortgage on the farm.”
He smiled. “So that’s why you’re in such a twit? Who told you?”
“Anson. He was waiting in my room last night.”
Jealousy ripped through him. “Really? Showed up for his wedding night, did he?”
Brenna’s intense glare unnerved him. She’d always had the ability to look beneath the surface and penetrate his soul.
“What do you want from me, Ace?”
“Unlike Anson, I don’t want to marry you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
She dropped her gaze, but not quick enough to hide the tear tracking down her cheek. He had to get away before he either killed her or kissed her. Right now he wanted to do both. “See you around. And don’t worry. There’s nothing I want from you. Let’s just say I repaid a debt I owed your father.” Ace turned and forced himself to walk at a slow, steady pace. Hundreds of hours spent mastering the art of controlling his emotions, and each time he saw Brenna, all his knowledge jumped ship.
Once he crested the hill, he broke into a run, waiting for that magic moment when he’d rise above his physical self and gain control over his frantic heartbeat and overactive imagination.
Brenna slumped against the gravestone and gulped air like an asthmatic. She watched Ace until he disappeared. Where had he parked? Chandler Hill Road, at least four miles across the barrens, was the closest place in the direction he headed. Surely, he hadn’t walked all that way. Had he taken her up on the offer to stay at the cabin?
Her mouth tightened. It was none of her concern. She kissed the mitten covering her fingers and brushed it over the gray granite. Rest in peace, little girl.
The humiliation of Ace paying off the farm’s mortgage rode her hard. Owing money didn’t sit well, but how would she repay him? Anson had told her she’d be receiving the deed in the mail. Somehow, she’d find a way to pay Ace back every cent. Even if it took the rest of her life. Once Colin was out of danger, she’d take a fourth jo
b if she had to.
Anson’s determination that she’d change her mind about marrying him had her worried. Did he plan to turn Colin in for using drugs?
She picked up her pace and climbed into the cab of her old pickup. Once behind the wheel, she blasted the heater to chase away the damp cold in her bones.
She shivered, but not from the outside air. The arctic chill radiating from Ace had been colder than what blew off the ocean.
An aura of revenge surrounded him. Almost everyone in this town had wronged him and his mother, Naomi. Had he returned to make people pay? Last night in the cabin, he’d tended to her wounded feet with a gentleness she remembered. The man who’d taken her home last night and the one she’d just seen bore no resemblance to the man tucked safely away in a corner of her heart.
Brenna gunned the engine, so absorbed in her thoughts she forgot about the slick black ice. She steered into the slide and eased her foot off the gas. The old nineteen-seventy truck’s backend swerved a few times then righted itself. She’d best concentrate on her driving.
Like a homing pigeon her mind returned to Ace. How dare he act like he was the only one who’d suffered? He’d skipped town, leaving her and the child she’d carried. The man she’d known and loved would never have done that.
Although she’d never admit it to him, the new Ace scared her. The boy had disappeared to be replaced by a hardened man whose cold features sent shivers down her back. The pain of Ace’s rejection hurt her as much today as it had twelve years ago. Only a fool would ache for a man who’d deserted them. Then I am a fool.
Brenna pulled into the parking lot at the town office and glanced at her watch. Damn. She opened the door and jumped from the cab. Myrtle would be locking the office any second.
“Wondered when you’d be in. Not like you to lobsta illegally.” Myrtle Peasley wagged a pen at Brenna from behind the counter as she entered. “Desperado’s registration expiahs at midnight.”
Brenna smiled at the elderly woman whose hair had been blue-gray for as long as she could remember. She’d been the Spruce Harbor’s clerk for so many years that the townsfolk had concerns about who’d run the town when she passed on. “I know, Myrtle. Sorry I waited until the last day.”
Bed of Lies Page 4