A Home For Hannah (Reunion: Hannah, Michael & Kate #1)

by Pat Warren

  “You could use a few pounds, if you ask me,” Marcie answered, joining her at the table. “You’re on the go so much you don’t take the time to eat properly.”

  Swallowing a delicious mouthful, Hannah was glad she’d accepted Marcie’s luncheon invitation. “Got to strike while the iron is hot, or so they say.”

  Through the open doorway, Marcie saw that Joel’s office was empty though it was almost two. “I thought Joel said he’d be in this afternoon.”

  “That Fowler trial is taking longer than he expected, I’m sure. I’m beginning to think that Amanda didn’t do it.” She took another fragrant bite.

  “Did you stop in and watch Joel in action?” Not waiting for a reply, Marcie went on, making an educated guess. “He’s something, isn’t he? That man could sell ice cubes to the Eskimos.”

  “He was doing a great job of establishing reasonable doubt in the minds of the jurors by giving several family members a motive to have killed Mr. Fowler. I wonder who really did do it.”

  “We’ll probably never know. But I’ll bet Joel will get Amanda off.”

  Finishing, Hannah frowned. “Even if she may be guilty?” That still didn’t sit right with her.

  “I suppose that could happen.” Marcie rose and took both paper plates, throwing them in the trash can. “It’s not like in the movies where someone rushes in in the last five minutes and makes a dramatic confession, now is it?”

  “Would that it were so. Where’s Perry Mason when we need him?” Hannah got up and reached into the fridge for the bottled water she kept there. “Thanks for lunch. It was great.”

  “Anytime. Tell me, what do you think of Joel now that you’ve been here a month?”

  Wondering why Marcie wanted to know, Hannah shrugged. “He’s all right. A good attorney.” A good kisser, came the thought, and she felt heat rise into her cheeks.

  Marcie eyed her shrewdly. “He’s very attractive, too.” When Hannah didn’t answer, but instead busied herself pouring a glass of water, she decided to plunge on. “About that double date I mentioned a while back, are you interested? Bob knows this nice CPA, in his thirties, never married, drives a Jag.”

  Shaking her head, Hannah picked up her water. “Thanks, but I’m just too busy getting my practice established right now to date anyone.”

  “Some other time, then,” Marcie offered, loath to give up.

  “Possibly.” Hannah escaped the lunchroom, hurrying upstairs. Marcie was a great secretary, but a persistent matchmaker. Well, if she turned her down often enough, the older women would finally have to get the message. They all would, including Will. Hannah simply wasn’t interested.

  As she reached her office, her thoughts suddenly drifted to the dinner she’d shared with Joel and the stroll around Faneuil Hall. The kisses she’d had trouble forgetting.

  It had felt good, being with someone interesting, talking about the things they had in common. Like the law and a love of seafood and puzzles. It had felt even better being in his arms, feeling the need swell inside her. It had been so long since a man had openly wanted her, since she’d felt like a woman.

  Sitting down, Hannah sighed. But, nice as all that was, none of it was for her. She simply couldn’t put herself through all that turmoil. Temporary pleasures could bring on a lifetime of regrets. She’d been young back then, foolish and eager to taste life. She was older now, hopefully wiser. No man and all he offered were worth the pain he so often left in his wake.

  She would have to keep that firmly in mind, Hannah thought as she opened the file folder on her desk. She had a custody hearing at three and she needed to go over a few facts.

  It had been a tiring day. Tie hanging loose, Joel rubbed the back of his neck as he shut the front door and walked to his office. It was past seven in the evening, and apparently everyone else had gone home hours ago. He’d been in court all day, then had spent a grueling hour and a half going over things with Amanda Fowler in preparation for tomorrow.

  Things were proceeding slowly but nicely. Amanda, unused to court proceedings, was understandably nervous. The outcome was far from a sure thing, but Joel felt they had a good chance. Still, it was her life, and he didn’t blame her for the case of nerves that had her losing both weight and sleep.

  He would have liked to have gone straight home, poured a couple of fingers of Scotch and grilled a steak. But he’d promised Marcie he’d stop in and sign the letters from last evening’s dictation. He flipped on the light in his office, tossed his coat onto a chair and sat down at the desk.

  Efficient as always, she had them lined up for him. He scanned them quickly, signed them all and scribbled Marcie a note of thanks. Turning out the light, he remembered he needed a reference volume. Wearily, he climbed the stairs.

  And stopped halfway up when he heard the sound of glass shattering.

  Taking the steps two at a time, Joel reached the open doorway of Hannah’s office and found her with one arm braced on the mantel, her back to him as she stood facing the fireplace. Cautiously, he walked in, not wanting to alarm her. “Hannah?”

  He’d expected her to swivel about, surprised to find she wasn’t alone. But instead, he saw her spine straighten, but she didn’t turn around. “Hannah, are you all right?”

  When she didn’t respond, he stepped closer and saw the glass shards in the fireplace, scattered over the ashes in the grate. “Hannah, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Go away.”

  The hell he would, not until he learned what had upset her so. No one else was on the premises. She had to have thrown the glass into the fireplace. It seemed so unlike the controlled woman he knew. He touched her shoulder lightly. “Talk to me.”

  She jerked from his touch. “Leave me alone. I…I need to be alone.”

  Joel had had enough. Taking hold of her shoulders, he turned her, his eyes on her face. Her cheeks were drained of color, and her eyes were dark and haunted. Her hair was mussed, as if her angry fingers had combed through it. She didn’t look up at him, just stood with her lips pressed into a thin line.

  “Tell me. It’s okay. You can tell me.”

  “No, it’s not okay.” She struggled out of his hold and moved to stand at the window, her back to him.

  Frustrated and getting angry, he followed her. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me. Obviously, someone hurt you and…”

  “Hurt me?” She whirled about, and now he could see frustration redden her cheeks. “No, no one hurt me. I’m the one who hurt someone. I let her down. Because of me and my inadequacies, she lost her children.” Hannah’s voice ended on a dry sob as her hand went to her throat. “Oh, God, why couldn’t I have won for her?”

  Joel reached to pull her to him, wanting to comfort her, but she shoved away from him.

  “Let me go. I need to leave.” Moving to her desk, Hannah grabbed her shoulder bag and fumbled for her keys.

  Joel took them from her. “You’re not going anywhere until you calm down. You’re in no shape to drive. If you don’t want to talk to me, fine. Then let me hold you, just hold you.” Gently, he eased her into a light embrace.

  She moved aside. “I don’t want you to hold me. I’m not a clinging female who turns for help to a man every time something goes wrong.” She wasn’t going to break down here in front of him. She hated the very thought of it, hated anyone seeing her as weak and ineffectual. She’d been struggling with a myriad of feelings—anger, disappointment, helplessness. So she’d thrown a drinking glass into the fireplace, but even that hadn’t been enough.

  The pressure, the need for release, was still there. It had been bubbling up inside ever since she’d returned from the court hearing. Ever since she’d seen the look of utter devastation on Jenna Nichols’s face and the triumphant smile that Brad Nichols flashed her. She’d wanted so badly to punch him in his perfect nose right there and then.

  “It’s not a weakness to accept comfort when you’re upset,” Joel said, aware she was fighting an inner battle and had thrown the g
lass as a release.

  “I’ll be fine after I drive around awhile and get this out of my system. Driving always distracts me.” Again, she reached for her keys.

  Joel shoved them in his pocket. “I have a better way to distract you.” Bracketing her face with his hands, he took her mouth.

  He’d been prepared for her to fight him, to pull away, but instead, she moaned deep in her throat and wrapped her arms tightly around him, opening her mouth more fully. This wasn’t the gentle kiss they’d shared the night they’d walked back from Cherrystones. Nor was it the hazy, passionate kiss that had followed the first.

  This was raw emotion, turbulence, restless seeking. She wanted to forget whatever had upset her and was using him to empty her mind. He willingly allowed her to, his hunger matching hers. He reveled in her hands bunching in the material of his jacket at his back, glorying in the way she pressed her body to his. Her response was pure instinct, wild need, a storm thrashing and swirling them into the eye.

  He let her lead, mating his tongue with hers, meeting her thrust for thrust, his hands slipping under her blouse and stroking soft skin hot to the touch. He took her under, certain that at the moment, she knew only him, thought only of him, wanted only him.

  When finally he released her, Hannah took a step back, feeling unsteady, her knees weak. Her breath hitched as she fought for the control she’d somehow handed away. He’d made her forget, if only for a short time. The power he held over her had her heart thundering still. What on earth was happening to her?

  Taking her hand, Joel led her over to the settee and sat down opposite her, giving himself a little breathing room. He didn’t want to think about how badly shaken he was, how quickly she could make him forget his own name. “Are you going to tell me what happened, or do you want to go another round with me?”

  She would tell him, if only to get him to leave her alone. “I lost a case today,” she answered, and locked her shaking hands together in her lap.

  There was more, he was certain. “Is it the first you’ve ever lost? Must be to cause such a reaction.”

  “Hardly. It’s just that I failed my client, and now, she’s lost custody of her two little girls. Their father doesn’t really want them. He just wants to get even with Jenna for dragging him into court last year over child support. God, it’s all so unfair.” She drew in a deep, steadying breath. “I usually don’t fall apart so badly. It’s just that, the way Jenna looked at me, I felt so damn helpless.”

  “You and I both know that custody is always temporary, that you can petition the court again for another hearing. If the father’s as bad as you say, he’ll soon tire of those kids and gladly give them back.”

  “Yes, but Jenna feels that even one night without her girls is too much. He’s a playboy, goes out every night, leaves them with sitters.”

  “As long as he doesn’t hurt them, they’ll survive this. Kids are resilient, and their mother will handle it, too.” He reached over to tip up her chin. “As for you, are you aware that the world won’t stop spinning if you personally don’t rescue every woman and child in need?”

  She wasn’t ready to admit that. “That judge made me so damn mad. He absolutely would not listen to all the evidence we had about what a lousy father Brad Nichols is. He has a chauffeur drive the girls to school and back, never taking the time himself. I’ll bet he’s never read to them or played a game with them or…”

  He thought he knew where this was coming from. “I take it he’s got money and she doesn’t. Is this the rich bastard versus the poor underdog female? Is that why you’re so vehement?”

  “No, it certainly is not. Jenna is a referral from Michigan and is far from poor. I wouldn’t care if Brad was a Rockefeller if he’d just pay attention to his children, be a real father, not a vindictive ex-husband who’s using his own kids to hassle their mother.”

  “Give it a few months, then try again. You’ll get them back for her.”

  Hannah drew in a shuddering breath. She was embarrassed that he’d seen her lose control. However, he had found a new way to divert her. Yes, he surely had.

  Remembering the shamefully intimate way she’d kissed him back, she rose with cheeks flaming and walked to the fireplace. “I sure made a mess in here.”

  “I’ll get the janitor to clean it out tomorrow.” He walked over to her. “Maybe we could get a punching bag and hang it in that far corner. Might be easier on the glassware.”

  “Very funny. Tell me you’ve never thrown something in anger.”

  He placed his hands on her arms. “And the next time I get the urge, will you sacrifice yourself and come calm me down as I did with you?”

  She touched her warm cheeks. “At your service, sir.”

  “Maybe we should give that a practice run.” Before she could pull away, his lips were on hers again, his arms drawing her close.

  She could have struggled, could have moved back, now that she was once more in control. Or was she? Hands trapped between their bodies, she could feel the erratic beat of his heart. Hannah felt the sensual pull dragging her under, just like the last time. Just like the first time.

  Hands on his chest, she pushed, extricating herself. Annoyed that her pulse was furiously pounding, she frowned at him. “I don’t think you need further practice, Counselor.” Walking to her desk, she gathered up her things.

  “Want to stop for a bite to eat before going home?” he asked. He was tired yet reluctant to let her go in her present mood.

  Food was the last thing she wanted. And to make matters worse, she felt as if she might be coming down with a cold. “I really am beat tonight, but thanks anyway.”

  A good man knew when to back off. Joel waited for her to lock up, then followed her downstairs. He paused in the foyer. “My car’s out front. I’ll wait until you come around the drive to make sure you’re all right.”

  Why did his hovering annoy her so? She only knew that it did. “There you go again. I’ve been managing to get around on my own for quite a few years now and…”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know. Humor me. You might not always be so lucky. There are a lot of crazies out there.”

  Chagrined at being reminded, Hannah had to agree. “All right. Good night, then.” She went out the back, locking up, checking the deserted parking lot before going to her Volkswagen. After the car warmed up, she drove around and saw Joel waiting for her. As they went their separate ways, he tooted his horn in farewell.

  Hannah hated to admit even to herself how pleasant and brand-new it felt having someone worry about her.

  Chapter Five

  Avicious winter storm with frigid winds hit the Boston area the week before Thanksgiving and had the residents shivering. The snowfall was minimal, but the wind-chill factor took the temperature down into the single digits, unusual for this early in the season. Joel decided to stop for a few items at the small grocery near the office rather than fight the crowds in the large supermarket near his apartment.

  His coat collar turned up, he sprinted to his car, a frown on his face. The Fowler case would soon move to closing arguments, and he was far from confident about the outcome. He had his own theories, the circumstantial evidence and obvious motivation pointing more toward Kent than his stepmother, but Joel hadn’t a clue what the jury was thinking. He’d called Blake’s elderly brother and sister to the stand, as well, but neither seemed a good suspect, although each had a motive of sorts. The younger son, Peter, a high-school dropout with a juvenile record and two divorces behind him, appeared too unfocused to have plotted his father’s death.

  That left Kent as the prime candidate. Unless, of course, Amanda Fowler was lying, which he really didn’t believe.

  Joel pulled into the parking lot of The Bread Basket just as the streetlights popped on. Still pondering his case, he skirted the icy patches and hurried through the swinging doors. He grabbed a cart and started down the dairy aisle. Haphazardly gathering easy-to-prepare fast foods, since he didn’t eat at home all that much, he
found himself distracted enough to have swung down the baby aisle by mistake. Turning around, he nearly ran into another cart.

  Standing behind it was Hannah Richards.

  He hadn’t seen her in several days, not since the incident in her office when he’d tried to comfort her over losing a case. And had wound up kissing her instead. As she met his eyes, he thought by her flushed face that she might be remembering that evening, too. “Haven’t seen you around lately. How are things going?”

  Hannah had known she’d have to face Joel again after behaving so childishly over losing Jenna Nichols’s custody case last week. Trying to dispel his opinion of her as overly emotional, she decided to act as normal as possible. “I’ve been around. You’re the one who’s hardly ever in. How’s Fowler coming?”

  Joel unbuttoned his coat in the warm store. “I wish I knew. The jury’s hard to read. A real stoic bunch.”

  “I’ve never had much luck in figuring out how a jury will go.” She wiped at her nose with a tissue. “Marcie thinks you’ll get her off, one way or another.”

  “I hope it’ll be because she’s not guilty.” He studied her face more closely and realized she hadn’t been blushing, that her cheeks were unnaturally flushed. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’ve got a cold. This weather doesn’t help. Michigan never seemed to get this wintry this early.” She hadn’t taken the necessary precautions, Hannah admitted to herself, dashing to the car with her coat open, not getting enough rest or eating right. She had only herself to blame. But it was just a cold, and she wouldn’t let it get her down.

  “Maybe you should medicate yourself and get to bed.” He glanced down at her basket, then smiled as he took inventory of the contents. “Diapers and baby food? Is there something you haven’t told me?”

  Hannah swiped at her red nose irritably. “They’re for Dawn Carruthers. Her children, actually. One of my clients.”

  “You do her shopping?”

  She was in no mood for these questions, Hannah thought. Just her luck to run into him when she was in a hurry. Yet she knew that Joel wouldn’t give up until he got all the information he wanted. Lord, all she wanted was to drop these things off at Dawn’s place, go home and sleep for the next twelve hours. “Not usually. But her deadbeat husband is so far behind in child support that Dawn can scarcely afford to put food on the table with her minimum-wage job. I’m just helping her out until we can get her ex to court.”