Turnagain Love (Sisters of Spirit #1)

by Nancy Radke

  She’d give him all her love, and if he didn’t love her in return...? The humiliation, the heartache didn’t bear thinking about.

  Once in bed, her sleepy mind replayed the moments at the beach, refusing to leave the delightful haven of his arms, and wove its own fantasy of love and romance... and later of home and children.

  Zack stayed up, reading a mystery novel. Jennel tried to stay awake, savoring the companionship of the moment, but soon drifted off to sleep.

  When she woke late the next morning, Zack was up and dressed. She lay there for a few minutes, unobserved, watching him as he sat at the table, reading.

  Dear Zack. How she loved him.

  Those kisses yesterday had shown her another side of him. Fierce and hard, they had revealed an urgency, a need she hadn’t realized existed in him. He had always seemed so self-restrained. Had that fiery exchange been punishment? Frustration because she had pestered him to death? Or, was he feeling the same emotional attraction she felt towards him?

  How was she to find out, short of asking him?

  At that moment, he raised his head. The quick spread of pleasure across his face as their eyes met made her senses swirl with a soaring happiness.

  “Good morning,” he said. “Sleep well?”

  “Yes. What time is it?”

  “Still early, not quite eight.”

  “Good. I need to get a shower and get dressed before the Van Chattans arrive.” She wanted to look her best when she saw them. Zack’s eyes looked tired. How long had he read last night?

  “Right.” He yawned as he shifted his weight on the bench, rumpling his dark hair in a manner unlike him, changing its neatly combed wave into a tousled look of disarray. “Fog’s gone. It’s a lovely day out. Clyde’ll be here within the hour. So will my crew. My foreman is raring to go.”

  How had he persuaded Clyde to come? She almost asked, but caught herself. Zack still didn’t know about their arrangement.

  “That soon? I’ve got to get dressed!”

  “Good. You’ll want to pack, so you’ll be ready to leave with Clyde.”

  “But if the Van Chattans approve my plans...”

  “You can work in Seattle. You can’t stay here.”

  The brief words landed like a hatchet blow, destroying Jennel’s happiness. They gave her the answer she sought, but not the one she longed to hear. Zack didn’t want her. His telling her to leave was as good as if he had made an out and out declaration against her. She was spared voicing the love she felt. It would have embarrassed them both. He didn’t want her. He wanted her designing skills.

  “You didn’t tell me what you decided about my offer,” he said. “Or have you come to any decision?”

  “I’ve decided not to take you up on it. Thanks anyway. If I have to do this job from afar, I’ll return to Boston.”

  His mouth hardened. She could almost feel the chill in the air as he turned away for a moment.

  “That’s fine with me,” he said, but it didn’t sound like it. “Leave your address and phone number so I can contact you.” He turned, picked up pen and paper from the table and prepared to write. “Address?”

  “Ah—” She didn’t have one, actually. All her mail was being forwarded here. If Zack wrote to her apartment, the post office would send his letter right back.

  Quickly she explained, adding, “I’ll write when I get a place.”

  He frowned, visibly upset. “You don’t have anywhere to go?”

  “No, but that’s okay.” Why should it bother him? He was getting rid of her like he wanted. She wouldn’t be around as a distraction. It wasn’t his problem.

  “No one expects you back in Boston?”

  “No.” Her parents thought she was successful, with her own apartment and a soaring career. She wasn’t going back to them like this. “No one. But I have friends there. I’ll find a place and write you. It’s just that I figured this job would last several months.”

  “Of course. You were planning to work here.” He stood up, silently, dark head lowered in thought, his powerful square- tipped fingers tapping rhythmically against the tabletop. He wore his work clothes, sturdy cotton twill trousers, blue plaid shirt, and heavy construction worker’s boots. A pair of leather work gloves lay on the floor near the doorway. The outfit accentuated his strength and capabilities, sending a new wave of love through her, making her acknowledge to herself that she cared for him for many reasons.

  He raised his head as he came to a decision. “If you don’t like working so far from your job, stay at one of the inns in Friday Harbor. Clyde can run you over whenever you need to view the site.”

  “Won’t that be expensive?”

  “There are bed and breakfast inns. It’s the off-season. You should find a place right away. Put it on your account.”

  “I can’t, Zack. Not even for the day or two until the Van Chattans come.” She finally voiced her deepest fear. “What if Mr. Van Chattan refuses to pay his wife’s bills?” The tremendous worry showed in her halting voice, and he stepped down into the sleeping area and knelt next to her on one knee, his injured leg held straight. He put his right arm around behind her, hugging her to him, gently supporting her.

  “Are you operating that close to the line?” His voice was a deep bass, quietly concerned. Gone was the arrogance she had rebelled against. He was suddenly sympathetic, as he must have been many times to his younger sister. He was so close, so intense, so caring, that all thought of refusing to share her worries fled.

  Instead she had to fight back the treacherous tears his warm compassion brought forth. “Uh-huh.”

  “You should’ve told me.

  “It’s my problem. This job would’ve made a big difference.”

  “How big?” he demanded. His lips so close they brushed her forehead, making her very aware of him: the scent, the sight, the sound of him that she held so dear.

  Having no desire to argue, she shrugged. “Big enough.”

  “I see. You’ve got a one man—excuse me, one-woman—operation just starting, unable to absorb business losses and not much backing. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “I know how that feels. It doesn’t have to be that way. You should let someone help you, Jennel. That’s what makes the world go round.”

  “Huh! I bet nobody ever helped you—” His finger, laid steadily across her lips, stopped her. This time the sizzling jolt that accompanied it vibrated clear down to her toes. Her emotions had become more passionate, more sensitive, more responsive. Vulnerable. Never had she looked at a man and felt the desire rise in her as she felt it do right now with Zack. The power of her love frightened her. Would she ever get over him?

  “You’re wrong, you know.”

  “Who?” She wasn’t referring to his scholarship.

  “Clyde, for one.”

  “Clyde?”

  “Yes. He’s brought me lots of clients. Just little jobs at first, you know, but hey, they were a start. He helped a lot. Same with my dad.”

  “I thought you said he wouldn’t help.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it before. He helped me float a loan to start my business. And John Van Chattan bailed me out of a couple of rough spots.”

  “Okay. So you had help sometimes.” But Zack never had to fight for his independence. She bet his help came with no strings attached!

  “Yes, and I wasn’t too proud to accept. If you’d let people help you, you wouldn’t be in such a fix. People can’t get by in this world if they don’t get some help. I help you, and you help me.”

  “But you’re more used to giving than to getting,” she observed.

  “True. Lately. But there was a time when I needed help. When I was young, I needed a lot. And...”

  “And what?”

  He straightened, rubbing his eyes. “And I bet if you think about it, you’ll realize you’ve had plenty. You and your family. More than you’re willing to admit.”

  She considered it, seriously, for the first tim
e. “Well, yes. I guess so. When the men are away at sea, the families left home all pull together and help each other. So I guess you’re right. It is sort of foolish to deny all offers.”

  “Very foolish. Now are you going to let me help you? I could make you a loan, if you needed it.”

  “Not really.” That would just increase her debt.

  “Something else then?”

  “I’ll think about it.” A lot depended upon what he wanted to do. She wasn’t willing to have him take control of her company. So much depended upon the decision made by the Van Chattans! Only then she could start arranging her life. “Right now, I’d like a shower.”

  “You can use this one here.”

  “No. My clothes are in my duffel bag up at the house, so I need to go up there anyway.”

  “Wear my robe.” He reached down to the foot of his bag and pulled out a royal blue terry cloth robe from a stack of clothes. “Here.”

  Jennel pulled on the robe, knotting the long belt in front. The robe reached almost to her ankles, and the sleeves, even when rolled, hung to her fingertips.

  Zack smiled at the sight, eyes glinting with humor, before nodding at her and stepping outdoors.

  She loved him. She loved him! There was no question remaining in her mind, and she hugged his robe around her as if to capture some of him. She felt like shouting the words aloud, but didn’t dare. She loved him when he was yelling at her and when he was being tender. She loved how exasperated she could make him, and how happy. She loved his quick temper and crooked smile.

  If only she knew he loved her in return. The thought tore at her happiness. The fact that he wanted her off the island was a constant and crippling ache.

  The gusty wind, blowing onshore, hit Zack hard as soon as he stepped past the protective canopy. He needed the jolt it gave him. Seeing Jennel in his robe had tried his control, hard. He untied Brutus and petted him, stroking his soft silky coat, but the long black hair reminded Zack of Jennel. He couldn’t keep his thoughts off her. But any girl who would refuse his help and run back to Boston the first excuse she got was not for him.

  She stepped outside to join him, hastily grabbing the front of the robe as a strong gust of wind whipped the edges apart. She still wore the T-shirt she had slept in, but no bra, and the wind flattened the fabric revealingly against her. She gave the squirming dog a few pats, but had to stop, needing both hands to keep the robe closed.

  “It’s windy!” she exclaimed. “I thought you said it was a lovely day out.”

  “It is. No fog. A fine day to work.” They were almost shouting to make themselves heard. He helped her onto the float, but stopped her when he saw her bare feet.

  “But Zack, my tennies were soaked.”

  “Be quiet, Boston. The only way I trust you to get safely from here to there is if I take you.” Grinning, he lifted her in his arms. Finally, he had her where he wanted her.

  He turned to start up the ramp, then stopped at the sight of Clyde grinning at them from beside his boat. Zack’s crew was tying up behind him. Their approach had been muffled by the noise of the wind.

  “Hey, Zack!” Clyde yelled. “I made it!”

  “Whatcha doin’?”

  “How ya been?”

  “Who ya got there?” his crew called out as they climbed onto the float, all eyes on Zack and Jennel.

  Jennel frantically clasped the wind-whipped robe closer while Zack tried to explain. “I’ll be right back. Jennel’s barefoot, so I’m taking her up to shower...”

  “Looks like it,” said one.

  “Where’s her clothes?” asked another, innocently.

  “In the house,” Zack said. He saw the red sweep across Jennel’s face and realized he was making things worse.

  “Oh, yeah?” There was a wealth of meaning intoned with that statement, and Jennel’s flush deepened.

  “She left them there,” Zack tried again, determined to straighten things out.

  “Zack!” Jennel whispered loudly in his ear. “Shut up! Either put me down or get me out of here.”

  “I’ll be right back,” he told the men, turning away.

  “Take your time.”

  “We got all day.” They were joking among themselves and the last thing Zack heard was someone saying, “I bet Zack didn’t mind the fog.”

  “They’ll be okay,” he tried to assure her as he walked rapidly across the dock and started the climb to the house. “I’ll let them know about—”

  “Zachery Waylan, don’t you dare go back and try to explain anything to that bunch!”

  “But, Jennel—”

  “Forget it. You’re only making things worse.”

  They reached the house, and he carried her cautiously over the weak veranda, taking extra care because of the added weight. The boards creaked ominously beneath them, but held. Awkwardly pulling open the door, he set her down inside. “Can you make it from here?”

  “Of course. Thanks.”

  “I’m sorry. Those fellows like their joke.”

  “It’s all right.” A corner of her mouth kicked up in a slightly embarrassed grin. “It did look a little compromising.”

  He shuffle-kicked a dry leaf aside, his eyes not meeting hers. “I’m not too sharp this morning. I couldn’t sleep.”

  “I wondered if you even tried. I woke up once, and you were still reading.”

  He smiled, shrugging it off. “I had a lot of things to think about. Did the light bother you?”

  “No. Brutus did. He was barking, probably at some raccoons...” She stopped, bit her lip and shook her head, covering her face in chagrin. “Oh, Zack!” It was almost a wail of anguish.

  “What?” Her change of mood puzzled him.

  “I don’t know how to say this—you’ll never believe I’m not a jinx...”

  “I know you’re not, Boston,” he assured her. “I was just joking.”

  Jennel smiled contritely at him, then announced, “I forgot the window after I washed the dishes the other night.”

  Puzzled, Zack turned. The window was open. Flour was scattered everywhere...as was dried cereal and tin cans, spilled sugar and salt, bread and cookie wrappers, empty cracker boxes...all covered with little white raccoon tracks.

  He stared in open-mouthed amazement, then swung back to her. He felt like something had hit him, an unexpected, non-threatening assault from a direction he hadn’t guarded against. He couldn’t believe the mess.

  “Raccoons!” No wonder she had that sheepish smile on her face. “You left the window open?”

  “Looks like it.”

  She gave him a dazzling smile of what looked like hopeful innocence. What was she expecting him to do? Blow his top?

  He looked upward, rocking back on his heels. “Go take your shower, Boston.” Each word was ground out between clenched teeth as he tried to hold back the laughter. It could only happen to her. Even the raccoons were against her.

  “But shouldn’t I...?” she hedged just a little, looking wary.

  Zack couldn’t stop himself. He burst out laughing. “Go take your shower. And don’t you dare drown or bust a pipe or...or anything!”

  She snatched her duffel bag from where she’d left it and made a quick retreat to the bathroom. From the top of the stairs she paused, looking back at him. “Sorry.”

  Zack glanced at her, gave a resigned shrug, threw up his hands in the universal gesture of helpless surrender and left.

  Raccoons. They were easier to handle than Jennel.

  The porch sagged under his weight, and he remembered just in time to walk around the rotten area. He had to get some planks nailed across it, right away. He would have done it the day of the fog, if Jennel hadn’t distracted him from his tasks. He hadn’t wanted to leave the boat...or her.

  That girl! She wouldn’t take his offer of a loan. She wouldn’t take his offer of a job. All she wanted to do was go back to Boston. She’d hardly been out here at all. It was a good lesson for him. The fact that she was returning to Bos
ton tore him apart. She didn’t love him after all.

  He had somehow misread the look in her eyes, the melody in her voice, the kiss they had shared. Was it possible for a woman to kiss a man with such astonishing effect and not feel anything for him? It must be so.

  She hadn’t lasted away from Boston very long. Just as he was falling in love with her, just as he thought she was different from Tony’s wife, she announced she was going back east. It saved him from the heartache that devastated Tony.

  He hoped he had made some sort of impression on her, but it didn’t look like it. He might as well give up.

  Zack met Jeff, his Australian-born foreman, halfway down the trail, and stopped to point out the trees that needed to be cleared. “Stack the wood well out of the way, Jeff.”

  “Fine. How about the sheila? She staying?”

  “No. Go ahead and move in.”

  He strolled down to the boats, wondering what had brought Clyde so early, and spotted John Van Chattan standing on the float. “Hello!” he called.

  Although he never left the dinner table early, John Van Chattan still carried his weight well on his large frame. “Hi, Zack. We figured we’d best shoot through and see what all the phone calls were about.”

  “You’ve been impossible to reach.”

  “Vacation. We’ve been visiting family we haven’t seen for ages.”

  “Your timing was bad. Jennel arrived to an empty house, not even knowing I was coming. What happened? Why the mix-up? You hired me to do the entire house, then your wife hires Jennel to do the interiors.”

  “We mis-communicated. We’ll straighten things out before we leave. How did Jennel do? Elenora was sold on her.”

  “I’ll get her work, and you can judge for yourself. She’s done a complete study of all the interiors. If you don’t like them, fine, but tell her you’ll pay her for her work.”

  “Even if I don’t use them?” John asked, casting a look of speculation at Zack.

  “Yes.”

  “I guess that’s fair. It was our mix-up.”

  “I still don’t see how it happened.”

  “I’ll tell you some day. Let me see her designs.”

  Zack got Jennel’s designs and spread them out with a flourish on Clyde’s table. “I think you’ll like them. Whether you do or not, I won’t charge you for my designs.”