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The Search

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by Lorhainne Eckhart




  The Search

  A Friessen Legacy Series ~ Short Story, Book 3

  by

  Lorhainne Eckhart

  The Friessen Legacy Series

  The Forgotten Child

  Outcast

  The Search

  Praise for The Search, A Friessen Legacy Short Story, Book 3...

  Andy Friessen can't get her out of his mind. The one woman he's ever loved is also the one he hurt badly.

  ~ Windigo

  Danger Reunites a Family.

  ~ Nancy Radke

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  Afterword

  Other Works by Lorhainne Eckhart

  About the Author

  Contact Information

  Copyright Information

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  “So what has he gone and done now?”

  Andy Friessen lounged in the deep leather chair, his feet propped on his desk. Pete Jarvis, a short, squat man the same age as Andy, stood in the deep confines of the library. He held a baseball cap in his hands and cleared his throat roughly before responding.

  “Your father has been seeing Jodie, my sister. Andy, we’ve known each other a long time, and I’m grateful for the job of mall administrator, and I work hard for you. But I do not want Jodie driven from town when Todd Friessen decides he’s done with her.” The man was trembling and cleared his throat again, squeezing the brim of his hat until it bent.

  Andy set down the empty crystal glass after swallowing the finger of bourbon. It burned sourly sliding down, and he was irritated: His father still couldn’t keep his pants zipped. He scowled bitterly and groaned, setting his booted feet on the floor and striding to the large mahogany-trimmed window.

  Spring was well under way, and the gardeners and landscapers were busy, mowing, raking, trimming, and pruning—preparing the gardens scattered over the large estate to bloom in a splendor of colors.

  “Jodie’s the older one?” He didn’t turn around. He couldn’t remember how many sisters Pete had. He’d always liked Pete in school; the boy had been a geek, excelling at the top of his class, and he came from a large local family with, Andy remembered, five or six kids. What he did know was that Pete was the only boy.

  “She’s the second oldest, just a year older than me.”

  Andy didn’t look at him, but he didn’t need to. He heard the apprehension in Pete’s voice. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember what the hell Jodie looked like, nor any of the other kids. He wondered if she resembled Pete in any way: short, squat, and overweight, with the face of a bulldog. What alarmed him was not the girl’s age but the fact that his dad had apparently lowered his standards. He generally only played with women who could bring any man within a five-mile radius to heel. Maybe Pete was an anomaly.

  “Are your mom and dad still living, Pete?” Andy was also trying to figure out who Pete’s parents were.

  “Yes, Andy, they are. Dad’s planning on retiring this year, and they’d like to stay. Mom’s part of the local garden club, and this would really hurt her.”

  Then it dawned on him: Pete’s father was a truck driver who was now just making local runs in the state. He was home more. Pete’s mother was a tiny woman, active on the school planning committee. But he still couldn’t remember what Jodie looked like.

  “They don’t know about Jodie and your father. But if my dad ever found out, he’d be out here paying your father a visit. He wouldn’t take kindly to any man twice Jodie’s age messing around with her, and a man with your daddy’s reputation, well... I’m worried about what he might do, and you and I both know no one has ever gone up against your father and walked away. Well, except that Claremont girl who stood up to you and married your cousin, that is.” Pete was sounding a little more confident and irritated.

  “Diana,” Andy grunted, scowling at a teenager in the yard who had stumbled and tipped over a wheelbarrow and was now scurrying to scoop the manure back into it.

  “Pardon?” Pete cleared his throat again, which was beginning to annoy Andy.

  He turned to see Pete staring at him, confused. “Diana was her name. And she was a Fulton, not a Claremont, when she married my cousin.”

  Andy didn’t like it when people talked about Diana as if she were a worthless Claremont, because the fact was that the girl had come back to North Lakewood holding her head high, and she hadn’t let him or his dad push her around or scare her away. She had more backbone than any woman he’d ever met, and he still ached when he thought about how she’d never be his. She belonged to his cousin Jed, now. At one time, he and Jed had been close, until Diana returned. He understood Jed falling hard for her. Hell, half the guys in the county had their tongues hanging half out of their mouths when she walked through town, even now that she was pregnant. She and Jed were expecting their first, and she was the most stunning women he’d ever seen. But she only had eyes for Jed. So as far as being a Claremont, he wanted to punch out anyone who tried to call her that, because Andy knew that Diana wasn’t her mother’s daughter.

  “Oh” was all Pete said before gripping that stupid orange baseball cap and bending the brim back again. “Sorry, I forgot. Nice enough girl. And the way she stood up to you, well, the townsfolk admire her for what she has and how she made something of herself, becoming a lawyer and all.”

  “What is it you want, Pete?” Andy was irritated beyond belief and poured himself another two fingers of bourbon. Although far from drunk, he wanted Pete to hurry up and leave so he could enjoy the smoothness of at least one drink.

  “I want you to talk to your daddy and get him to stay away from my sister.”

  “Why?” Andy said. “Get your sister to stay away from my dad. That seems like a simpler solution, don’t you think?”

  “Well, I tried. But she’s starry eyed and love struck and seems to think your daddy’s going to leave your mama and marry her.” He said it a little too loudly, and a clatter in the hall outside the library had Andy striding out to see who was eavesdropping.

  A startled pretty blonde was staring at him, holding a feather duster in one hand and broken vase in the other. He hair was tied back in a bun, and she wore a black maid’s dress. With her wide green eyes, she looked as if she would love to flee. Her face burned red, and she stammered, “I’m so sorry, sir. The vase slipped…. I’ll replace it…. Please, I need this job….”

  What was it about women that they either cowered from him or jumped into his lap? But only one had ever driven him so insane with need, so heated with desire for her, that he ached. And she was now another man’s wife, all because of what he’d done to her fifteen years before, cleaning up the local trash and sending it packing for his father, Todd. Instead of thanking him, Todd had created one mess after another, leaving a trail of broken hearts and bitter women whom he had used, played with, and tossed away. Andy was getting damn tired of the reputation he had earned. After all, he really wasn’t a monster, but the young blonde chit trembling before him must have thought otherwise, and that was a very sobering thought.

  “Don’t worry about it. I always hated that vase. Just clean it up.” She was tiny and not that old, most likely fresh out of high school. She appeared to breathe more easily, relieved, and she dropped to her knees as if he were a prince as she quickly scooped pieces of the broken shards off the slate floor. She hissed and drew her hand back, blood dripped onto the floor, and instead of dropping the pieces like a sane person would, she stuffed the broken pieces in her apron pocket and closed her hand. She must have known he was standing there watching, as she stammered, “I’m so sorry, sir…. I’ll clean this up.”

  “Jules!” Andy shouted, and he knelt down by the thin waif. The maid’s uniform was about as appealing a
s a grain sack, starched and buttoned right to her throat. “No, give me your hand. Stop worrying about the damn floor.”

  Her hand trembled as she slowly held it out. The cut was deep and oozing blood. Jules, a plump, graying woman who was their head housekeeper, hurried in.

  “Yes, Mr. Friessen?” The housekeeper’s eyes widened right before she frowned, wringing her hands, standing over the startled girl. “My God, Laura, what have you done now? Oh my…. You broke Mrs. Friessen’s Chinese vase! It’s worth more than you make in a year,” she snapped harshly. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Friessen. I’ll see that she’s gone by the end of the day.”

  The blonde, Laura, froze, her hand stiffening and her faced burning crimson.

  “Take off your apron,” Andy barked at Jules.

  Her eyes widened as if she couldn’t understand his request. Then a few seconds passed as she scrambled to untie her white apron, her double chin wobbling. Andy snatched it from her before she could sputter another word, and he wrapped it around Laura’s hand. Jules had been with the Friessens since he was a rascal of five, climbing trees and sneaking in snakes, toads, and spiders, hiding them in her bed or drawers, and he always knew when she had discovered his presents by her shrieks and tears and carrying on. It wasn’t malicious—he had gotten a kick out of turning the house upside down and causing mischief back then. Thankfully, his pranks had eased as he matured, but she was always suspicious. He also knew she cared for him, but right now, her attitude was grating on his nerves. Did she really think this poor girl should be thrown out because she broke a vase? The whole thing was getting out of hand.

  “Jules, you’re not firing anyone today. Get real, would you? It was an accident, and that god-awful vase was an eyesore. I, for one, am glad it’s gone. Laura, that cut’s deep. Jules, take her to the doc and get it stitched up. I’ll get a damn broom myself and clean it up.”

  Both women stared at him as though he’d sprouted a second head. They were most likely thinking that he, a poor millionaire, wouldn’t know how to use a broom. But hell, he had swept up more than his share of messes, generally something crystal and valuable that he had knocked over as a kid while he raced through the mansion, pretending he was a renegade Indian and Custer was hot on his tail to cut him down. Of course, he had learned it was far easier to sweep it up quietly and discard the shattered mess. God forbid his mother, Caroline, find out he’d broken yet another of her precious, frilly ornaments. She had so many that he was sure she would never notice they were gone, and cleaning up was easier than listening to her carry on for hours. He had learned at a young age that his mother, the ice queen, was more attached to her things than to her only son.

  “Go now,” he growled. His head was starting to hurt, and he was getting damn tired of how everyone tiptoed around him and saw him as an enforcer for his dad, a banisher of young women. When he stepped back to go into the kitchen and hunt for a broom, Pete was there, staring with wide eyes and holding that ridiculous hat. “You go, too,” Andy shouted.

  “And my sister?” Pete was determined, and, if anything, Andy admired the hint of backbone this man now showed. Maybe he had some character after all. Andy sighed, facing the short, squat geek who ran his mall—his dad’s mall.

  “I’ll handle it. And no, your sister won’t be run from town,” he growled, and this time he stomped away, aware of three very nervous sets of wide eyes burning in his back.

  Andy stalked into the empty kitchen and stopped. The closet just inside the kitchen, which held all the brooms, mops, and cleaning supplies, wasn’t there. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come in here, but he was sure the room had been outfitted with white cupboards and a slate green floor. This kitchen was filled with solid black appliances and deep, rich oak cupboards, and the closet in the corner was now a walk-in pantry.

  “What the hell?” He glanced around and started yanking open doors when the phone rang. Because he was beside it, he grabbed it. “Andy here.” He looked around behind him, distracted still.

  “Andy, it’s Diana….”

  He froze, and two things happened in that moment. His heart jerked at hearing a voice that had the ability to twist his gut and his sound reasoning, but he also knew that he was the last person Diana would ever call, so he broke out in a cold sweat, anticipating something very bad.

  “Diana, is everything okay?”

  She sighed on the other end, and he didn’t miss the battle she waged with keeping her voice steady. “It’s Jed. He took that new stallion out, and he was supposed to be back before lunch. I’ve called his cell phone and left about a dozen messages. He doesn’t answer, and now it says his mailbox is full.”

  Andy could see the digital clock above the stove blinking 6:40 p.m. “Jed’s one of the best riders out there. Maybe he…”

  She cut him off. “I knew it was a mistake, calling, but I didn’t know who else to call. It doesn’t matter what you think of me, but Jed’s your cousin, and I thought you’d put everything aside for him. Just never mind. I’ll go myself.”

  “Diana, wait. Don’t go. I’m on my way. There’s no way you should be out looking for anyone in your condition. Just wait there!” he shouted into the phone, fearing she might go off to look for Jed. A woman about to give birth had no business traipsing around, worrying and searching for her husband alone. “Diana, give me your word you’ll wait.”

  She sniffed on the other end. “Okay. And …thank you, Andy.”

  She hung up, and Andy felt his knees weaken. Of all the women he knew, Diana was the strongest and most composed, and she would face down the devil himself, but from the sound of her on the phone, she was barely holding it together.

  The broom forgotten, Andy raced to the stables and loaded up Sugar, his five-year-old Quarter Horse, into the trailer. He hooked it up to his full-size pickup and drove as fast as he dared to a cousin who needed him—a cousin with whom he needed to find a way to make it right.

  Chapter 2

  Diana was just as he remembered, with brilliant, rich red hair that shimmered under the setting sun. Just like her mama, she had pale skin, pink cheeks, and deep red lips. Her eyes had always been the killer for him: The deep blue had a way of reaching in and squeezing his last breath out, making it difficult to breathe. But she wasn’t her mama, and that was a mistake he’d made when she came back to town and he made things difficult for her.

  Andy hadn’t spoken to Diana since before she married Jed. He’d seen her in town with her husband, his cousin, and heard through the rumour mill that they were expecting their first, but by the looks of her large and swollen belly, she appeared ready to deliver any day. She was leading a dark mare from the barn, and he was startled to realize that, although she was pregnant, she was still the sexiest woman ever. Wearing those blue jeans and a large pink shirt that draped to her thighs, she was a sight to behold. He still wished she was his, that the baby she carried was his. Hell, he wished for a lot of things.

  “Andy, thanks for coming.” She said it as graciously as ever, head high and shoulders back. Her confidence continued to throw him. She wasn’t like other women—she didn’t fall apart, she wasn’t a drama queen, and she was as stubborn as a mule, but then she had survived hell as a child, including his heartless behavior when he tossed her out of her home and landed her in foster care. In the long run, he had done her a favor, but that still didn’t make right what he’d done.

  “Well, of course I would come. What happened, Diana? Where’s Jed? Did you try calling his cell phone again?” Andy leaned into each step, watching her and all she tried to hide. A tear slipped down her cheek, but she quickly tried to hide it, to wipe it away. He could feel the awkwardness hanging between them like a frayed rope, beyond repair.

  Diana tied the dark horse to the corral fence. “He’s not answering, but it doesn’t say he’s out of range. He could have dropped his phone, for all I know. He’s done it before. He hates cell phones, anyway, and he won’t ever carry one unless I nag him to death. You know
how he is. He’s training that new stallion, Red, that he bought before Christmas at auction. He wants to start taking him on pack trips this summer, so he’s been going out every day since last week, getting him ready. We got a group coming in two days before the baby comes.” Diana stepped away from the horse, rubbing her arms and shivering.

  Andy didn’t think about it: He took off his lined denim jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She stiffened when he touched her, but then something relaxed in her shoulders and she wiped her tears, giving him a forced smile. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she couldn’t hide how tired she was when she looked up at him.

  “Diana, you look so tired. Is Jed treating you okay?”

  Her eyes flashed fire, and she stepped back. “Jed treats me just fine. He respects me, and he loves me. I’m just tired all the time now. It’s called being pregnant.”

  “Well, maybe Jed shouldn’t be leaving you alone right now,” he snapped back, irritated because he realized he was jealous of what Jed had with Diana. He knew that if Diana were carrying his kid, he would be watching over her like a hawk.

  “I’m pregnant, Andy, not an invalid. I told Jed the same thing.” She slid off his coat and handed it back. “I’ll get my coat. If you can help me saddle Scarlett, I want to get started before it’s dark.”

  He took his coat and grabbed her by the arm. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ll go find Jed. You go inside and lie down.” Andy chuckled, but it was from disbelief. “Look at you. You’re about to give birth, and you’re going to climb onto a horse. Are you nuts? No, you’re staying here.” He started walking to his trailer, unlatched the door, and led out Sugar. He tied her beside Scarlett and felt his blood boil when Diana tossed a saddle blanket on Scarlett and strode back inside the barn.

  “What the hell are you doing? I said you’re not going. Now go into the house and wait, put your feet up. You’re not coming.” He was furious and wanted to throttle her, and when she ignored him and pulled on a large sweater and slicker, starting to lift her saddle, he was seething to the point that he was positive his head would blow off.

 

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