Behind Closed Doors

by Debbi Rawlins

  The bus stopped and the door whooshed open.

  Beth sighed. “Okay. Go.” She hoped she wasn’t being foolish. “We’re going to talk more about this later,” she called after Liberty, who wasted no time getting on the bus and out of earshot.

  The air was chilly and scented with the crisp smell of autumn. Wearing short-sleeved T-shirts was fine during the day, especially to work around the boardinghouse, but she’d have to buy some sweatshirts for the mornings. Goose bumps covered her arms and she rubbed them, trying to get warm, as she stood in the tall grass, watching the bus turn onto the highway.

  How different her life was these days. She hadn’t even owned a T-shirt until two months ago. Armani suits and Dolce & Gabbana dresses had hung in her closet. And her collection of shoes? Just thinking about her Jimmy Choos and Christian Louboutins languishing in a storage unit gave her another chill.

  She stared down at her ugly work boots. God, she really missed high heels—mostly because she liked the way they made her legs look. But that was stupid, since all she ever wore anymore was jeans. Even once the inn was open for business, her attire wouldn’t change much. Around Blackfoot Falls people only dressed up for church, weddings and funerals. And for some, that simply meant a clean shirt or wearing something other than jeans.

  When she’d made the decision to quit her job and move close to Candace and Liberty, she hadn’t considered the little things that would change in her day-to-day life. Her decision had been both emotional and hasty, but this was still the right choice. Although she wasn’t anyone’s idea of a perfect role model, her influence might be Liberty’s only shot at a healthy future.

  She turned and started back toward the small turquoise house with its peeling white trim. What an eyesore. Which really said something, considering the condition of the other three homes with their torn screens and ramshackle porches. She couldn’t wait until a room was ready at the boardinghouse. Nathan was right—her efforts should be concentrated on fixing the outside, especially with winter coming. But she needed her own space. She needed to be away from this sad little neighborhood that reminded her of her unstable childhood.

  Her aversion had nothing to do with being a snob. While working as an event planner, the fat paychecks had been well earned, not handed to her just for being pretty. She’d gotten her hands dirty plenty of times, making sure every event went smoothly. As much as she loved her designer shoes, she hadn’t forgotten how often she’d had to literally run around, bribing and cajoling, fixing last-minute snafus and liberally cursing both Mr. Choo and Mr. Louboutin.

  No, the real problem with living here was that it pushed her buttons. Thrust her back in time to feeling like that scared, helpless child, convinced she’d never be safe, never know the security of a home that couldn’t be pulled out from under her. As clear as it was that she’d made the right choice to move to Blackfoot Falls, she was equally certain that she couldn’t live in this house much longer. Beth needed her own space.

  And the other unsettling thing? She suspected the rent was being paid by one of her sister’s lovers. Or maybe the guy owned the house and was taking payment in trade. When Beth had offered to cover the rent and utility bills, Candace had eagerly requested cash instead of a check made out to the mysterious landlord. Beth had bought Liberty school clothes and a computer instead.

  Candace was standing at the open door puffing on her cigarette. “I told you before you came that girl was a handful,” she said, the corners of her mouth curling up as if the warning gave her reason to be smug.

  “Is it any wonder?” Beth pushed past her. “She doesn’t have adequate parental supervision.”

  Candace put the cigarette out on the side of the house and joined Beth in the kitchen. “You talking about me or her father?”

  “Oh, God, really?”

  “Hey, at least I’m here. I didn’t get myself locked up for breaking and entering.”

  Beth sighed. “She shouldn’t be hanging around Spike. He’s too old for her.”

  “I agree. I even had a sit-down with Liberty.”

  Beth had picked up the keys she’d left on the table, but surprised, she was no longer in a hurry to go. “And?”

  “I told her to wake up, that she’s wasting her time. He’s eighteen and still a junior in high school. She doesn’t need a loser like him. He’s never gonna be able to buy her something nice or take her anywhere. I told her straight up. I said, baby girl, you can do so much better than that clown.”

  Her mouth hanging open, Beth stared at her sister. The woman was completely clueless. Even after all the heart-to-heart talks they’d had in the past two months.

  Candace took the tomato juice out of the fridge and fixed herself a Bloody Mary. After taking a sip, she glanced at Beth. “You want one before you go?”

  Instead of answering, she saved her energy to keep from exploding. “Liberty is a bright girl. She doesn’t need a man buying her things or—” Beth’s control slipped a notch. “Or paying her rent.”

  With a chilly glare, Candace picked up her drink, leaving everything else on the counter, and walked to the door while reaching into her pocket.

  “Look, I’m sorry.” Beth briefly closed her eyes. “I’m not here to judge you, I’m not...but come on, this is about Liberty. You don’t want to see her go down the same road as—”

  “Me?” Candace paused to look at her and shrugged. “Go ahead and say it.”

  “I mostly blame Mom, not you. She was a horrible influence on both of us.” Beth had to be careful to keep her voice neutral. No one appreciated condescension, and she wanted to provide motivation, not ammunition for another fight. “The example you set for Liberty matters.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Bethany, kinda late for that, don’t you think?”

  “No. No, I don’t.”

  “Well, that’s your job, isn’t it, Little Miss Perfect? Being the shining example for your niece,” Candace said, and slammed out the screen door.

  Holding on to her temper by her fingernails, Beth followed her to the stoop. “Look, you called me, remember?”

  Candace lit her cigarette and drew in deeply. “You heard from her recently?”

  “Who?”

  “Mom.”

  Beth shook her head. Candace’s mercurial moods alone drove her crazy. “I haven’t talked to her in two years. She could’ve changed her number or moved for all I know.”

  “I’m pretty sure she’s still living with Bobby in Vegas,” Candace said, absently staring off toward the Belt Mountains where most of the aspens had turned golden. The only decent thing about the house and flat tract of land was the view.

  “Can we get back to Liberty? I think Spike is the one getting her into trouble.”

  “As long as he’s not chasing off other boys who are interested in her, I’m not going to interfere.”

  Watching her gulp down half her drink, Beth sighed. Once again, it wasn’t the time to have a worthwhile discussion. But then it never was with Candace. Beth glanced at the clock. She had to get to town and be at the boardinghouse before her workers arrived.

  Thinking about them reminded her of the lumber order, which led her to Nathan. Yesterday he’d been a shining beacon of hope that life in Blackfoot Falls might be looking up. That had lasted for an hour. After he figured out she was related to the little graffiti artist who’d defaced his water sheds, he’d probably never want to see Beth again.

  Not bothering to say anything to her sister, Beth left through the living room, grabbing her phone and wallet off the teak end table. The garage-sale purchase was the nicest piece of furniture in the house and even made the green plaid couch look better. As far as the brown corduroy recliner went, Beth saw no hope for it. Maybe she’d get lucky again at another garage sale.

  She climbed into her truck just as her phone buzzed. She smiled when she saw it was a text from Fritz. He sent the same one every week, asking if she’d had enough and was ready to return to work. Her former boss had never said,
but she had a feeling he hadn’t expected her to last this long. He’d been good to her, grooming her to be a savvy, confident woman, and she owed him. It was time to make him understand he should hire another assistant.

  Wondering where he was, her fingers hovered over the keypad. He could be in Paris or Hong Kong or New York. It didn’t matter since he’d just texted. She wouldn’t be disturbing him. Allowing herself a brief wistful memory of autumn in Paris, she stared at the sad three-bedroom house that was in desperate need of a new roof. She really had to move out. It wasn’t that she needed pretty things. Arguing with Candace and getting nowhere was sucking the soul out of her. Still, she was committed to staying in Blackfoot Falls. Liberty needed her and, to some degree, so did Candace.

  Beth dropped the phone on the seat beside her and turned the key in the ignition. She would have that talk with Fritz. Absolutely, she would. Just not right now.

  5

  NATHAN LEFT HIS office through the French doors that opened to the garden. He didn’t know why he hadn’t taken his normal route through the house and out the kitchen. It felt odd following the flagstone path. Generally he forgot the flower beds and whimsical-shaped shrubs were there.

  Anne had designed the garden and wanted the impractical French doors so they’d match the other three in the den, living room and master bedroom. If she’d been disappointed that he tended to keep the drapes closed, she hadn’t mentioned it and he hadn’t noticed. But apparently, a lot of things in their marriage had gone unnoticed.

  If he’d had his way, his office would’ve had a view of the stables and the grassy field that turned to pasture before climbing the foothills. It was all there, beyond the privacy hedge that prevented him from seeing anything but blue sky and the Rockies in the distance. But Anne had asked for so little.

  Every now and again he considered cutting down the hedges, but hadn’t followed through. He’d just left them, the way he had the roses. The gesture was a tribute to her, he supposed, though it was Kitty who took care of the flowers, along with the house. They’d hired her to help with the housework a year after he and Anne had married, and she’d been coming twice a week ever since. The woman had adored Anne. And he reckoned Kitty was fond of him, too, but if he ever got serious about getting rid of the garden she’d probably serve him his balls for breakfast.

  Woody was leading the new mare toward the east corral when Nathan walked out from between the hedges. Big John and Troy were loading fence posts onto one of the trucks, and all three men did double takes. Hell, it wasn’t that big a deal. A man had a right to walk through his own garden.

  He cringed...even the thought sounded weird. Hoping to avoid Woody’s meddlesome observations, Nathan veered toward the stables.

  If he heard Beth’s name one more time, Nathan was going to gag the old man. Better yet, call his bluff and force him to go on the vacation he’d been threatening to take for eight years. The minute Nathan had returned from town yesterday, Woody had started with the questions and making noises about it being time Nathan got back in the saddle before certain body parts stopped working. It would’ve been funny if the old man wasn’t serious.

  Even if Nathan was considering dipping his toe in the water, Bethany wasn’t the woman for him. Not for the long haul anyway. She was pretty and outgoing, but she wouldn’t last long in Blackfoot Falls. He’d bet she’d bought the old boardinghouse on a whim and hadn’t given enough thought to the renovation. She should’ve been going full speed, getting the outside work finished before the first snow, then moving to the inside on wintry days. And not installing new shutters that would have to come down again, just to make the place look nice. That dilapidated old building needed a lot more than shutters to look anywhere near decent.

  She had a lot of energy and enthusiasm, he’d give her that. And looking at the glass as half-full wasn’t a bad attitude. That same sort of optimism had helped him get the Lucky 7 off the ground. But it only worked with a healthy dose of common sense. No, Bethany wasn’t the type for him. He’d already had one idealistic woman in his life, and that had ended tragically. For everyone.

  Nearing the stable, he saw Craig brushing Romeo outside the tack room up front. Anne had named the stallion. He was a handsome chestnut, and the lousy name had stuck in Nathan’s craw, but again he’d allowed her that small win.

  He never made decisions—especially ones that mattered—based solely on emotions. He didn’t understand whimsical thinking. Maybe that was why he hadn’t known his own wife. Though she’d apparently understood him well enough to hide certain things from him. Fanciful things. Like her dreams of being on the stage, in the spotlight. She knew he would’ve been confused or assumed she was joking. He might’ve blamed her friend Bella for filling Anne’s head with nonsense and dragging her to those crazy auditions. But it was more likely that he’d have dismissed the whole thing.

  He just wished he’d had a clue. Then maybe Anne wouldn’t have ended up on the highway headed for Kalispell that night. Maybe she wouldn’t have died.

  Craig looked up from brushing Romeo, but Nathan wasn’t in the mood to talk so he skirted the stables and kept walking toward the equipment shed.

  Dammit, he didn’t need all this crap surfacing again. He’d rehashed everything a thousand times already. He would never know how their lives might’ve turned out if they’d been more honest with each other. If he’d realized she had a dream of her own. One that hadn’t necessarily included him.

  If he wanted to feel guilty, he had plenty of other reasons. The strained ties with his family were all on him. He’d shut everyone out. The worst part was, he’d isolated himself for so long he wasn’t having an easy time letting people back in. Not even his brothers. And Clint and Seth had always been his best friends.

  Yet spending time with Bethany had been surprisingly easy. If she knew anything about him, or about Anne, which wasn’t farfetched in a place like Blackfoot Falls, Bethany hadn’t let on. Yesterday had felt like a clean slate. Just two people who were attracted to each other having a little fun.

  He knew she’d felt the same physical pull. He’d seen it in those sexy hazel eyes. What he didn’t know was whether the burning need for release had kept her awake last night, too. He’d taken care of himself once in the shower and then later in bed so he could finally get some shut-eye.

  His venture into breeding Arabians had taken him out of town twice last month. He’d had the opportunity to hook up. He’d refrained, mostly because he wasn’t ready. But it reminded him that he’d become the subject of rumor and uncharitable gossip after Anne had died, which was yet another reason Bethany wasn’t right for him, whether she stayed or not. All he wanted was sex with no strings, period. If last names weren’t involved, all the better. He’d grown up loving his small town, but that love had vanished with the truth about Anne.

  That left Bethany out. And yet, something about her drew him like a bear to honey.

  He’d honestly thought that, after some sleep and distance, the feeling would go away. He wished to hell he’d been right.

  * * *

  “NATHAN? IT’S BETH. Beth Wilson.” She plugged her free ear and hurried out of her office so she could hear. Of course, the hammering on the other side of the wall had started the second she’d made the call. “We met yesterday.”

  “I remember,” he drawled in a mildly mocking tone. “What can I do for you now? You need nails? Hammers? Lunch?”

  She grinned. “Really? Lunch? Dinner would be better so I wouldn’t have to come back to work, but sure, I’ll go to lunch.” At the expected silence, she pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Until she couldn’t hold it anymore. “Relax, I know you were being sarcastic.”

  He sighed, then after another pause, he asked, “Have you eaten?”

  It was her turn to be shocked speechless. Her heart did a little two-step before she got it. Okay, he was teasing her back. Evidently he hadn’t made the connection between her and Liberty. But Beth wasn’t out of the wood
s yet. “Seriously, I do have a question. I’m horrified that I didn’t bring it up yesterday, but how do you want to handle payment for the lumber?”

  “I thought we were doing a swap?”

  “We can.” She glanced over her shoulder when the hammering grew louder, then took the porch steps and planted herself on the grassy area under the elm. “I’ve already paid Mr. Jorgenson, so that works for me. But if you have another order coming in Friday, I didn’t want the accounting to get complicated.”

  She held her breath, hoping he’d take her explanation at face value. Even with all the craziness the day had hurled at her, she couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday. About him. About the possibility of them getting together. So she’d called to hear his voice, see if there was anything between them worth salvaging before she got ahead of herself. Before the subject of Liberty came up.

  So far so good. Beth had teased him, he’d teased her back, so maybe...

  “Since you’ve already paid him, I’ll let Jorgenson figure it out. I trust him.”

  “Sure. He likes you.”

  Nathan’s gravelly chuckle made her skin prickle. “Still paranoid.”

  “I just don’t like having my hands tied.”

  “No?”

  The deepening of his voice made the word sound suggestive. Okay, this was promising. If only she could think of a quick comeback...dammit.

  “Your workers showed up,” he said, his tone shifting back to normal. “That has to be a relief.”

  “You can still hear them hammering?” It was probably her heart.

  “Nope. Not now.”

  “I think I’ll have them for the rest of the week. Unless one of them stubs his toe.”

  “And here I thought you were the glass-half-full type.”

  Sighing, she leaned against the huge ancient tree trunk, thumping her head back a couple of times. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m not usually such a grouch. It’s been a really bad day. Bad week. And it just started.” She straightened. “Except for you. You were terrific yesterday.” Grinning, she said, “I bet you’re still terrific today, too.”