“Oh.” Sorry she’d asked, Kristin averted her eyes and moved the conversation away from that hurtful time in his life. “You weren’t the only one who didn’t know about Anna Mae being a volunteer. I didn’t either. In fact, I doubt many people did.”
“That tells me that she valued her privacy. It also tells me she might not want people poking around in her diaries.”
Kristin paused, her hands resting on the carton. “We’re not going to agree on this, are we?”
“No, probably not. Feels like a trend, doesn’t it?” That reminder of their past had him taking in her sleeveless white blouse and beige skirt, and suddenly Kristin wished she hadn’t removed her matching jacket.
Lifting the box, she moved away from the counter and headed for her open stockroom door. Zach intercepted her on the way.
“Here—let me get that,” he said, taking it from her.
Kristin stilled as his fingertips brushed her blouse just below her breasts in the process.
“Where do you want this?”
“Anywhere you can find a space,” she answered, pretending she hadn’t felt the contact. “It’s getting crowded in there.” And it was getting warm out here.
Zach went inside, shuffled some things around, then poked his head out again. “If I rearrange some things, there’ll be room for those cartons I marked, too. Do you want them back here?”
No, she just wanted him out of her shop. He was getting to her again, and she didn’t like the vulnerable feeling it gave her. “Thanks, but I’ll get them in the morning. Let’s just call it a night.”
He sent her a tolerant look. “Are you sure? Some of them have to weigh fifty pounds.”
Kristin nodded and hid a sigh. It was ridiculous to refuse his help. “Thank you. I’ll just get my jacket and the day’s receipts from my office and be right back.”
Moving inside, she pulled on her jacket, stuffed the night deposit bag into her purse and picked up a stack of paperwork she hadn’t completed. Then she returned to the storefront and set everything beside the cash register.
She grew increasingly anxious listening to the sounds of boxes being dragged across the tile floor and being lifted and thumped down, presumably, one on top of the other. The longer they spent together, the more those old memories and feelings came back.
Finally, he emerged, dusting his hands on his jeans. “That about it?”
“Yes,” she answered in relief. “Thanks again. You go on ahead. I just have to turn off the lights and lock up.”
“I’m not in any hurry,” he said, to her chagrin. “I’ll wait and walk you out.”
Sighing, Kristin returned to her office. In a moment, she was back out, having turned off everything except the lights in the bay window and a tiny lamp at the back of the store. Zach was beside the showcase. She slowed her steps as she realized something tense and imminent had gathered in his eyes. Something that made her hold her breath.
“Well,” she said, striding around him to grab her purse, “as Scarlett O’Hara said, tomorrow’s another day.”
Zach caught her hand.
Kristin stopped breathing again as he moved closer, his gray eyes telegraphing his intent, and giving her ample time to refuse the kiss she knew was coming. Her heart banged against her rib cage as he slid his hands inside her open jacket and coaxed her to him.
Why wasn’t she saying no? Why wasn’t she pushing him away? Why wasn’t she telling him that he had no right to touch her anymore?
She had no answers. Because she was suddenly too involved in the texture and feel of him to care. Dear God, it had been so long since she’d felt like this. She’d been sure that a normal physical response was dead to her forever. And yet, here it was…that nervous quiver, that breathless tremble, that downward whoosh of the Ferris wheel.
Zach’s gaze grew heavy lidded as he touched her cheek where makeup hid the bruise from her fall. Then instinct took over, memories took over, and they came together in a hard, hungry kiss that was an explosion of heat and hormones.
They drank wetly from each other, broke the kiss only to claim it again and delve more deeply. His tongue darted into her mouth and she took it greedily, and gave him hers.
Moments passed and that languid feeling of wanting to lie down overpowered her, while her mind floated and a tiny voice whispered that they’d be more comfortable on the floor. She could feel Zach’s hand pressing against her bottom, feel the need to move against him in that slow, sensual dance that always brought back the smell of strawberries and freshly mown hay. And suddenly she was back in that old loft where she’d learned about passion for the very first time…where Zach’s hands and kisses had—
Kristin pulled away in a panicky rush of self-preservation, then skittered back a few paces to give herself room to think. Because she couldn’t think when he was this close. She didn’t know how he did it, but when he was around, her mind shut down and her heart took over.
“We can’t do this.”
“Why not?” he murmured, his eyes still heavy lidded as he reached for her again. “Obviously, we still click.”
Kristin sidestepped him, dismayed by his word choice and her lack of common sense. “I don’t want to ‘click’ with you.” She wanted to click with someone else, someone reliable, someone who wouldn’t betray her when his insecurities flared. Someone who wouldn’t be leaving again.
“It doesn’t appear that either of us has a choice.”
“We’re adults. We always have a choice.” Moving to the glass showcase, she picked up her purse and paperwork and started toward the door, her nerve ends still buzzing.
The hard truth was she’d wanted that kiss to happen since she’d seen him on the runway last Saturday night. Now that it had, it was more than she’d bargained for. She threw open the door to the warm night air. “Let’s just chalk it up to curiosity and forget it.”
“Can we forget it?” he asked, joining her outside and waiting for her to lock up.
“Why not? It’s not as though it meant anything. I suspect that most people with a past like ours would be curious if they found themselves alone in a dimly lit room. But it can’t happen again.”
“Not even if we wanted it to?”
Kristin froze for an instant and looked at him wondering why he’d said that. “Not even.” Then she turned to the right and strode to her van, parked in the tiny lot she shared with the tax office. Zach came with her and opened her door, then waited until she’d put her things on the passenger’s seat before he spoke again.
“Be careful driving home,” he said as she started the van. “It’s a warm night. The deer will be out.”
“I will. Thank you for your help.”
“Thank you for the kiss.”
Kristin sighed and shook her head. “Zach, what do you get out of constantly baiting me? It wasn’t a gift. It was a mistake.” Then shutting the door, she pulled out.
But unsettled as she was, she couldn’t stop herself from watching in her rearview mirror as he walked to his truck and climbed behind the wheel.
Zach tossed and turned in his sleeping bag on the hardwood floor of his aunt’s empty living room, fed up with the chirping of the crickets and peeper frogs beyond the window screens. He’d forgotten about the futon in his truck until he’d stripped to his underwear, and had decided to tough it out one more night. He’d forgotten about nearly everything but Kris. He could still smell her perfume.
He flipped his pillow to the cool side. He’d thought that sleep would erase her from his mind. But she’d been there in his dreams, too, and he’d awakened fully aroused and needy.
What a surprise she was. He’d known a young, naive girl. She was so much more than that now. She was beautiful and confident and strong and sexy. Good God, no wonder he couldn’t sleep.
The cell phone beside him rang.
Zach swung a quick glance at his lighted travel alarm. The only reason for a call at one in the morning was trouble, and the only person he could imagine calli
ng at this hour was his foreman.
He grabbed the phone. “Dan?”
“No, dear, it’s me,” Etta said, obviously worried.
Zach clamped the phone between his cheek and shoulder, and snatched up his socks and jeans from the floor where he’d left them two hours ago. He spoke while he yanked them on. “Aunt Etta, what’s wrong?”
“I’m all right, honey, but Kristin’s in trouble.”
A second jolt of adrenaline hit him. Had there been another break-in? Had the person who’d shoved her down Anna Mae’s attic stairs meant to hurt her? “What happened? Is she all right?”
“As far as I know, she’s not hurt, but it just came over my scanner that her shop is on fire. The sirens are still going full blast.”
Zach thanked heaven for his aunt’s nosy streak. A full quarter of the residents in her senior building had scanners and relentlessly monitored the police channel. “Did they say how many units were dispatched?”
“No, but Lancaster’s answering, too.”
Zach tugged on his boots, then rose to flip on the lights and dig a wrinkled-but-clean black T-shirt from his duffel bag.
“I thought you’d want to know,” Etta went on. “I imagine she’s at the fire.”
“I’m leaving right now. Thanks for calling.”
“Tell her if there’s anything I can do—”
“I will. Love you. Bye.” Then he doused the lights and carried his phone to his truck. He could hear sirens in the distance now, smell the faint, but unmistakable stench of smoke on the air.
Zach’s gut clenched and his heart followed suit as old guilt settled heavily on his shoulders. She’d needed him when her mother was dying, and he hadn’t been there. He’d be there for her now.
Ten minutes later, Zach squealed into the paved lot beside old Eli Elliott’s bookstore and came to a stop next to Kristin’s van. Eli’s store was built on a slight knoll above and across the street from her shop, giving Zach a bird’s-eye view of the blaze. His heart sank at the number of fire trucks, emergency vehicles and utility workers on the scene.
Everyone was moving and yelling, but the fire leapt and roared, creating its own wind, eating everything Kristin had worked so hard to build. She had to be devastated. Smoke and ash billowed from her smashed bay window, and on both sides of her shop, firefighters hosed down the adjacent buildings in an attempt to prevent the fire from spreading.
Searching the scene, he spotted her standing some distance away near a barricade of sawbucks and yellow police tape. Zach hurried down the grassy embankment to the street. Arms hugging herself, she was speaking with councilman Len Rogers, Harlan Greene, Eli and another man he didn’t recognize.
He stopped ten yards away from them to gauge her reaction—to see if he’d be welcomed or run off. When she murmured a few words to her friends and trudged slowly toward him, he had his answer. He could feel the heat of the fire now, see its orange reflection on her face. The pain in her eyes almost crushed him. Then she was walking into his open arms, letting him hold her, and pressing her forehead to his shoulder.
She didn’t stay there long. After a few moments and a deep breath, she pulled herself together and eased away from him. She nodded toward the wrought-iron benches between Eli’s bookstore and the bakery. “Let’s sit.”
When they were seated, she turned to him, her eyes damp and her expression bleak. “How did you know?”
“Etta. She heard it on her scanner. She said to call if there’s anything she can do for you.”
She looked at him wearily. “I can’t think of what that might be right now.”
“Come here,” he murmured and tried to draw her close again.
She eased his hands away. “I can’t.” The glare from the fire flickered over her lined face. “I’m only holding it together by a thread, and if I let you hold me again, you’re going to get wet.”
“I can handle it.”
“But I can’t. If I let myself cry, I won’t be able to stop.”
“Okay,” he answered, needing to do something for her. “Can I hold your hand, at least?”
She blinked several times, then put her hand in his. She squeezed so hard he thought she’d shut off his circulation.
“How did it happen?”
Kristin shook her head. “I don’t know. Len said he thought it started in the rear of the shop. He’s the one who turned in the alarm. He was leaving the Elks’ club and saw the smoke.”
She drew a trembling breath. “Zach, I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to come up with a reason for this, and I just can’t. I’m careful. I don’t keep oily rags or combustible chemicals around. I’m cautious to the point of being compulsive about fire hazards. I never leave the shop or my apartment without making certain everything’s in order.”
But a tiny, contradicting fear had crept in while she was speaking. Yes, usually she was cautious. But last night, she hadn’t been thinking clearly because Zach was in the shop—because of that kiss. Maybe in her haste to lock up, she’d somehow overlooked something. Had she hit a breaker she shouldn’t have touched when she shut off the lights? But, no. Shutting off breakers didn’t start electrical fires.
Another possibility occurred to her, and her spirits sank lower. “I don’t store chemicals in my shop…but Zach, I didn’t open all of the boxes from Anna Mae’s attic. What if there was something combustible in one of them?”
“That’s pretty remote,” he said quietly. “The people who packed up your things wouldn’t have shipped something like that.”
“I didn’t tag Anna Mae’s diaries either, but they showed up, didn’t they?” She massaged the ache over her eyes. “Dammit, why didn’t I take the time to look through all of the cartons?”
“Because you’re not superwoman. There had to be forty or fifty boxes in that delivery and it was after eight o’clock when you got it all inside. No one would have had the time to look.”
She didn’t know if he was right or not, but even if he was paying her lip service, it was comforting.
“Here comes someone,” Zach said, with a nod toward the grass embankment.
Kristin’s heart leapt as Captain Williams trudged toward them, backlit by smoke and flames, his hat and face mask gone, his long yellow slicker hanging open. She stood quickly, and Zach followed suit. Soot blackened the fireman’s cheeks, and his rumpled hair clung damply to his forehead.
Any hope she still had fled because there was none on Williams’s face.
“Ma’am, I’m afraid it looks like a total loss,” he said. “We got here as quick as we could, but we’re a volunteer fire department. By the time we drive to the hall, get the trucks and make it to the scene, the fire’s already got a good start.” He glanced back at her shop. “I’m afraid wood structures go up fast. A few things in the front of your store might’ve withstood the heat, but then you’ve got smoke and water damage to contend with.”
Tears stung her eyes. “Do you have any idea yet what caused it?”
“No, ma’am. That’ll be up to the fire marshal to determine.”
“I see. How soon will he be investigating?” She was aware of Zach behind her, gently massaging her shoulder. She clutched his hand. “Is he down there now?”
“No, I’m sorry. He’s out of town. In Pennsylvania, fire marshals are trained state police officers, and there aren’t that many of them. Ours has a pretty big district to cover. It could be three days to a week ’til he gets here.”
He nodded at the blaze. It was slowly coming under control. “We’ll hang around until we’re sure there are no more hot spots. We’ll also post volunteer fire police outside to make sure no one enters or disturbs the scene ’til the marshal makes his determination.” Williams paused. “I’m afraid that means you, too, Ms. Chase.”
“Of course,” Kristin answered. “Thank you. My—my thanks to all of you.”
Still fighting tears, she watched him leave. Then she turned to Zach and swallowed the lump in her throat. “At least they saved
Harlan’s office and Ben’s shop.”
He nodded grimly. “I know I don’t have to ask this, but you were insured, right?”
“Yes. Probably overinsured. But two-thirds of everything I had in the shop came from another era. They can never be replaced.”
“The land’s still there. You can rebuild and start over.”
“But do I want to? Look how quickly it can all be taken away. In the blink of an eye.”
Gently, Zach drew her back against his chest. “You’ll feel differently later.”
“Maybe.” Yet, what else would she do with her life? She was thirty-one years old, and though she had her accounting degree, the only thing she’d done since college—the only thing she’d wanted since then, other than the boy she’d loved and the parents Fate had taken from her—was to run her shop.
“Come on,” he said, turning her around to face him. “I’m parked beside your van. Let’s drive over to that convenience store on the other end of town and get a cup of coffee or a cold drink. You need to get away from here for a while.”
She shook her head. “I can’t go anywhere. My clothes reek from the fire.”
“So what?” he said, trying to coax a grin from her. “I’m wearing yesterday’s socks. There’s nothing you can do about any of this right now. We’ll just grab something to drink, and when we come back, we’ll check in with the fire chief to see if there’s any more news.”
Kristin pushed out of his arms, giving in to frustration instead of tears. “Then what, since you seem to have all the answers? What will we do then?”
His tone remained unchanged. “Then we’ll sit in my truck for as long as you need to be here. All night, if necessary. In the morning, if you need help contacting your insurance company or anyone else, or if you need to board up the windows, I’m your guy.”
No, he wasn’t. He hadn’t been her guy for a very long time. But tonight…tonight there was no one else to cling to. “Okay,” she said through a sigh. “I’d love a cup of coffee.”
“Good,” he replied with a smile. Draping an arm over her shoulders, he walked her up the grassy hill toward Eli’s lot. “I have a cell phone if you want to call anyone. It’s three hours earlier in Arizona if you’d like to talk to your sister. Or,” he added half-heartedly, “I could call her for you.”
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