by Vella Day
Damn. He and James looked nothing alike. James' hair was jet black, whereas his was a medium brown. Not to mention James was a good three inches shorter and at least thirty pounds heavier. “No, I'm Peter.” He wrapped an arm around Maria's waist and pulled her closer to him. “And I brought Maria with me as you asked.”
Now she smiled. “Oh, yes. Please sit down. I do so enjoy company.”
Maria took the chair across from Sophia while Peter sat on the made bed.
“Has Joseph stopped by lately?” he asked.
“Joseph? You know better than that. My brother and I haven't spoken in years.”
He wanted to make sure. Alzheimer's distorted the mind. “You sound good today.” She knew who Joseph was, which was a positive sign. “What did you need to talk to us about?” He might as well get to point before Sophia forgot why she wanted to see them.
She dropped her gaze and twisted her fingers together. “I'm getting worse.”
“No. You're fine.” He saw no harm in keeping the illusion going a little longer.
Her eyes watered and she waved away the assurance. “I know I have my good days and my bad days, and I wanted you both to know something before I forgot my own name.” She laughed, but her eyes lacked their usual sparkle.
Peter glanced at Maria whose gaze was locked onto Sophia. “We're listening,” he said.
“This is very hard for me to tell you, but do you remember that your mom and I had been good friends?”
“Yes. You two played bridge together. I heard all the stories.” Or as many as he could remember.
She smiled. “Your mom was a great card partner, but she refused to follow the conventions.”
The number one reason why his dad refused to play with her. “She did like her cards.” He hoped Sophia hadn't called them over to reminisce.
Sophia pulled the blanket higher onto her lap. “Did you realize how much she loved your father?”
His parents fought like most married couples, but he assumed they loved each other. “I guess. She never talked about it. It's not something mothers share with their sons. She died when I was only nine.”
“I know. Did you know she also loved my brother?”
He jerked as if she'd slapped him. Maria rose, raced next to him, and sat, hip to hip, her eyes wide with fear.
“Aunt Sophia, what are you saying?”
A sweet smile crossed her face. She turned to Maria. “Do you know why I never talk to your father anymore?”
Maria squeezed Peter's hand. “No. Tell me.”
“Your father fell in love with my best friend.”
The blood drained from his brain to his fast beating heart. He guessed her best friend had been his mom. He didn't want to think how they expressed this love, if indeed Sophia was in her right mind at the moment.
“Aunt Sophia, what are you talking about?” She glanced up at Peter, her brows pinched together.
“I might as well just say it. Maria, your father had an affair with Peter's mother before either of you were born.”
Maria slapped a hand over her mouth.
Peter sat up straighter. “How can you be sure? James always told me Mom preached sex after marriage. According to dad, she was a good Catholic. She'd never have an affair.”
Sophia reached for a cup next to her and took a sip. “I know it's hard for both of you to believe. We don't want to think of our parents as sinners, but sometimes circumstances bring us together, and we can't help ourselves.”
Peter watched for the usual signs of her Alzheimer's but found none. She wasn't staring off into space, and she wasn't rocking in her chair. He wasn't sure what to say. “Did my dad know about this supposed affair?”
She grasped the cup as if it were a lifeline. “Not until John and I married. Your mother made me promise not to tell him either. I didn't for the longest time, but when your father decided he really didn't love me, I wanted to hurt him. So I told him about his perfect wife and how she'd slept with my brother.”
He nearly jumped off the bed. “Did he believe you?”
Tears streamed down Maria's cheek. He dragged a knuckle across her cheek. “It's okay.”
Maria shook her head.
“How could he not,” Sophia said. “Your father had been away on business for a few months setting up one of his restaurants. When he got back home, your mom was pregnant.”
His mind raced, but the ramifications were too horrific. Maria slipped her hand from his. “And you know for sure that Maria's father got my mom pregnant?”
“Yes. I'm sorry. But I thought you should know.”
“You said it was before I was born. You're not telling me Maria and I have the same father are you?”
Sophia's eyes glazed over. “Do you remember when we went on our honeymoon and you took me out on a sailboat, only you forgot to mention you didn't know how to sail?”
Peter moved over to the window. “Sophia. It's me, Peter.”
“I'm sorry I couldn't make you happier. I never did want your money like you always thought.”
He wanted to shake her. “We're going, Sophia. Goodbye.”
When he turned back to Maria, she was trembling.
Dear God, now what were they going to do?
15
In the daytime, this place is charming,” Susan said, not wanting to spoil Jake's excitement. At night, the woods would be a different story. Dark, creepy, hidden.
A large gust of winter wind swooshed past, and she shivered. Jake stepped behind her and ran his hands up and down her jacketed arms. She inched backwards to bridge the gap between them. If he tilted his head down, she bet his chin would have skimmed the top of her head, and their closeness warmed her.
“Tom and I came up here every summer. It was the best time of my life.” Jake dropped his arms and stepped back.
Because of way his voice trailed off, she debated turning around to drink in his expression but decided not to intrude on his privacy.
Instead, she studied Jake's childhood castle. A big picture window took up most of the left side of the single story log cabin. Underneath the window were two rectangular, wooded boxes that contained only dirt and some unidentifiable dead flowers. When the weather warmed, the flowers would come to life and dress the cabin in color.
She looked up. “It has a chimney!” she said, more excited than she had been in days. “I could use a glowing fire right now.”
She'd been in such a rush when they'd gone shopping, she hadn't purchased warm enough clothes for February, and Florida's selection of down jackets was close to zero. To think she had a closet full of ski clothes at her house. What she wouldn't give to sneak back in and grab some warmer gear. Jake had said they'd stop in Brevard and pick up some winter appropriate clothing, but once they found Gary Cho, all thoughts of shopping went out the window.
As Jake searched for the key, she looked down the gravel drive leading to the cabin. Driving on the pebbles had made lots of crunching noises. If someone came up to the cabin, Jake and she were sure to hear him. It was kind of like their own alarm system. She liked that.
“I got it.” He waved the key.
Mr. Traynor had hidden it under the lip of a bird feeder. Clever man.
Jake took their suitcases from the trunk and showed her inside.
The fireplace was the centerpiece of the room. “Nice.” She could have done without the rifles underneath the mounted deer head though, but refugees couldn't be picky.
He set down their suitcases. “It's small, but the cabin has all the comforts of home.”
She liked how the light streamed in through the kitchen window. The view of the forest would be amazing once spring came and the mountain laurels bloomed, though she hoped she wouldn't be here that long. Right now, patches of snow were tucked under some rocks, and only dots of green shot up from the ground. Except for the pines, the trees were stripped bare.
Once the FBI caught the maniac who was killing the jurors, she'd be free to go home and practice law
again. A rush of excitement grabbed her until she realized Jake would be off on another assignment, protecting someone else, and she'd never seen him again.
The intense prospective loneliness nearly took her breath away. Strange. When had he turned from being the enemy to a man she wanted to help and care for her?
She kept her back to him as she pretended to study the view, not wanting him to see her chin quiver.
“Pretty nice, here, huh?” he said.
Jake seemed excited to be back in a place that elicited good memories.
“It's much nicer than I imagined.” She forced cheeriness into her tone.
Trying to live in the here and now, she passed the kitchen table and checked out the small cooking area. Susan trailed her fingers along the worn countertop. The stove needed a good cleaning, but Tom's dad seemed to have equipped the cabin nicely.
She faced him. “Tom's dad doesn't mind if we stay here?”
“He'll be in Washington for the next week or so. When he comes back, we'll have to find someplace else to stay.”
“Too bad. This house is nice.” She wrinkled her nose. “Do you think we could open a window for a few minutes? It smells kind of musty.”
“Hank probably took a vacation before he visited Tom, but I like the smell. Reminds me of the delicious aroma of those cinnamon buns Mrs. Traynor used to make. Her sour dough bread was amazing. Man could she cook.” His eyes shone as he proceeded over to the window behind the kitchen table. “I know this one opens.” He lifted the sash.
Cold air rushed in, carrying with it the sweet smell of pine. “Thanks.” She waited until he faced her. “I'm feeling a lot better and can manage on my own. If you want to go back to Washington to straighten out this mess about the FBI thinking you harmed Cho, I'm okay with that.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “You can't get rid of me that easily. I will not leave you until the bastard is caught. We have no idea where he is.” He smiled and her insides turned to mush.
Jake tilted her chin upward, and from the dreamy look in his eyes, she knew he was finally going to kiss her. She closed her lids, her heart racing, body waiting. He placed a kiss on her forehead and her stomach caved. Damn.
Her eyes sprang open as she took a step back. “You're right. Absolutely right. The moment you leave here, the guy could find me.” Babble, babble. God, this was more embarrassing than when she made the same error of judgment with Timmy. At least she was only ten then and had a good excuse.
Being Jake's friend wasn't what she wanted, but apparently that's how he saw their relationship. Jake was hired to protect her. Nothing more.
She tapped his chest. “I wasn't trying to get rid of you. I didn't want you to feel obligated to stay by my side.” Giving him a way out would ease her conscience.
“In case I didn't mention it before, I have a price on my head. I'd like to stay hidden for a little while longer. The Bureau will catch this guy, and then you can move back to Washington and resume your life.”
What if I don't want to resume my stressful life? “Great.”
“Come on. Let's unpack. We need to discuss what we're going to do for money.”
“Money?” Any joy she'd experienced being alone in a cozy cabin with Jake evaporated.
He tapped her nose. “Think about it. I can't use the FBI credit card anymore since the Bureau will know where we are. I only have enough cash to buy about three days worth of groceries.”
She hadn't realized their situation was so dire. “What are we going to do?” Her legs suddenly weakened.
“I'll have to get a job.”
She wasn't going to let him support her. “I can wait tables. I got through law school at a diner next to the college.”
He picked up her suitcase. “Sounds good. Go pick a bedroom.”
For a split second, she wished the place only had one bedroom. She liked knowing Jake was nearby, but she wasn't going to tell him that.
“You said you and Tom came up here every summer. Which room did you stay in?” He'd probably feel more comfortable there.
“Tom and I shared the one on the left.”
Sight unseen, she chose the one on the right.
He put her bag in her new room. “Why don't you take a shower, change, and then we can go for a winter stroll,” Jake said.
He had to be kidding. “It might get dark before we get back.”
“We won't go far. Besides, we have another two hours of light.”
Suddenly, she liked the idea of holding his hand, talking freely, and sharing her thoughts. “I'll hurry.”
When she emerged from cleaning up, Jake had placed a light blue down jacket, a pretty navy scarf, and matching gloves on her bed.
“Where did these come from?” Her gear wouldn't have kept her warm for long.
“The Traynors are big hikers and hunters. There's a large hidden basement where they keep all sorts of camping gear. I pilfered them from the closet. Tom's mom passed away a few years ago. I guess his dad never got rid of her things.”
His gaze slipped to the ground. Not wanting him to dwell on the loss, Susan hurried but struggled to dress. “I’m ready.”
The trail heading west behind the house took them past two waterfalls, separated by a large gap.
“I never expected the woods to be so magical. This is really beautiful.” Shoulder to shoulder, she looked up at him and smiled.
Jake took her gloved hands in his and pulled her around to face him. “I find there's more beauty right in front of me.”
If he hadn't been holding her hands, she would have covered her face. Surely the scars on her cheek made her ugly. He was probably saying nice things to help her relax and forget about being in the woods. Before she could tell him he was out of his mind, Jake leaned over and kissed her, his warm breath fanning her lips. Her eyes seemed to automatically close and her chest move closer. And from the pressure, she'd say friendship wasn't on his mind.
She wanted to open her mouth and invite him in, but she wasn't sure of his intention. Her head swam with possibilities, and the cold air turned warm as her body melted against him. She wanted to take off her gloves and run her hands down his face and under his jacket, but she was too busy tasting his lips. Before she finished exploring the wonders of Jake Yarnell, FBI agent, his hands cupped her face, and then he pulled away.
Bereft of contact, she sagged. He didn't seem to notice she wanted more.
He angled his body toward the waterfall. “Maybe we should get back.”
What happened to, Wow, Susan, that was an amazing kiss; let's not stop?
When he didn't address what they just shared, she could only mumble, “Sure.”
Get real. What had she expected him to say given it was forty degrees outside? That he'd want to strip naked and make mad passionate love on the ground?
If he'd asked, she might have agreed. Oh, well. At least she wouldn't be cold on the walk back to the cabin. His kisses had thoroughly heated her.
**
Jake yawned and fought the urge to turn the Jeep around and head back to the cabin. He'd had absolutely no sleep last night. What had he been thinking kissing Susan?
Call it fatigue, call it fear he'd be falsely accused, call it whatever you wanted, bottom line was, he shouldn't have dropped his defenses.
If she'd slapped him or pulled back, he would have been happy. When she leaned into him and slightly parted her mouth, he nearly died. He wanted to devour her right then and there.
Now he'd have to live with the fact he desired her. He glanced over at Susan. Her head was back against the headrest, her eyes closed. Maybe she too hadn't slept.
He pulled to the curb at the town center and cut the engine.
She yawned and unhooked her seatbelt. “You really think the hardware store will hire you just like that?”
“I'm not planning on working there. I’m looking for some references. Working small jobs makes me more flexible. Besides, I don't want to stay at any one job for long.”
>
“Makes sense.”
If he could have worked under an assumed name, he would have, but the town folk of Shepherd Hills knew him as a friend of Hank Traynor's boy. Hiding his identity in this town was impossible.
He had told a small fib to Susan. He did have money to last a week, but staying around the house with nothing to do might have led him to do something stupid. The kiss in the forest had ignited his blood, proving without a shadow of a doubt that he wanted her. Too bad, he understood that no good could come of their relationship.
Asking Susan to come along while he job searched only added to his desires, but there was no way he would leave her alone.
“Look.” She pointed to the Shepherd's diner. “They have a Help Wanted sign.”
“We'll check it out as soon as I talk to Mr. Wilkerson, assuming he's still alive. The old coot was a hundred years old the last time I was here.”
He and Susan walked side by side to the hardware store. The street hadn't changed much since the last time he was there. He spotted the same antique table and stool set in Art's Collectibles storefront, the same bookstore with the faded posters in the window, and the same empty storefront at the end of the street.
He pushed open the front door of Wilkerson's store, and the familiar ring of the bell sounded. A young man with way too many piercings was behind the counter. Jake scanned the aisles. An old man was placing bags of salt on the shelves, and Jake made a beeline to him.
“Mr. Wilkerson?”
The bent over man in the green apron twisted around and ran his gaze down the length of Jake. “Yes?”
“Do you remember me?” Jake helped Wilkerson to his feet. He hadn't been back in Shepherd Hills in at least five years, but for two summers, he'd worked at the store.
Wilkerson blinked a few times and pushed up his glasses. “Well, I'll be. Jake Yarnell. I hear you and Tom are working together in D.C.”
News travelled fast. “Yes, sir. Or at least I was. I quit the force to settle down. This here is my fiancée, Taylor.” Before Susan could protest, he wrapped an arm around her waist and squeezed.
“You pregnant?” the old man asked, one brow raised. Jake knew the coot was teasing, but from the way Susan's mouth had dropped, she didn't.