She smiled and moved around the Bronco with ease. “I had no idea it could be so hot in these mountains. I always picture the redwoods as cool and wet.”
He watched her come closer and tried to ignore the heat in his blood. At least he could ignore her intellectually if not physically. He switched his gaze to his brother, taking note of the wary expression on his face. Vinnie took measured steps toward the cabin. He was shorter and stockier than Zane, but his coloring was the same – dark hair and blue eyes. He looked casual in jeans and a polo shirt, but nothing about his walk was relaxed.
“What happened in Portland?”
“One of the boats ran into some engine problems. We had to decide whether to scrap it or replace the motor.”
Zane didn’t care about the boat. He guessed Vinnie knew that, but his brother continued the idle discussion, probably to buy some time. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the woman approach as she came up beside Vinnie. They stopped at the foot of the steps. Zane schooled his features into a blank expression.
“I got the supplies. You didn’t have to come.” His voice was gruff, annoyed. And at some level he realized it was more because Vinnie was here than because of Margo. Did he subconsciously want to talk to her? Forget it.
“Since you have fresh supplies, then you have enough food to invite us for lunch.” Vinnie patted his stomach. “I’m starving.”
“I don’t need her.”
His staccato tone halted Vinnie’s progress up the steps. He cast Zane an assessing glance. “She’s the best there is.”
“Really good are you?” he asked sarcastically, insolently quirking his brow.
Vinnie cut in. “You said…”
Zane interrupted. “I said maybe, and I said it to shut you up.” What was it with Vinnie? Did he honestly think he’d gone off the deep end? Maybe he had. But he wasn’t going to discuss it with Vinnie or this woman. His business was just that. His business.
Margo mounted the steps ahead of Vinnie. “Don’t make any hasty decisions. Neither one of you.” Her voice commanded their attention.
Zane refused to look at her, although he had to admire her control. She probably dealt with difficult people every day. A twinge of conscience surfaced, but he tamped it down. She was tough. He had a feeling his comments didn’t faze her.
“Let’s just have lunch. Afterward Zane and I will have a talk. Just the two of us. And then we’ll leave.”
Vinnie started to protest, but she spoke before he could. “No sessions. No probing questions. We’ll just have a pleasant conversation. No strings attached.”
Zane didn’t look at her now. Did she think he was dense? She didn’t drive all this way for idle talk, nor had Vinnie. Abruptly he stepped in front of her. He was going to call the shots. “I’m not sick. Not psycho. Not angry – yet. So you stay and eat and then you’re history. Agreed?”
She nodded.
Good. “I’ll grill some hamburgers. Vinnie, you make the salad and set up in here while I go take a quick shower.”
In minutes he was showered and dried, and dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans. He left the bathroom and went into the kitchen. She sat at the counter that separated the kitchen from the rest of the cabin. Staring. Assessing.
He brushed past Vinnie who was gathering lettuce for the salad and stepped in front of the counter. Annoyed and glaring at Margo, he spoke. “Can I get you something to drink?”
She didn’t move but continued to return his stare with those big, brown, unflinching eyes. One cool lady.
“Soda? Iced tea? Wine?”
“Wine please. I’d like it with the meal.”
“Sure.” He remained for several seconds. Her scent mingled with his. Her dark brown hair curved along the line of her jaw. It would be silky to the touch.
Annoyed that she was affecting him, he straightened to nudge his brother aside. He reached into the refrigerator, grabbed the hamburger meat and went outside. Too bad he hadn’t put it in the freezer yet. Then he wouldn’t have had to feed them.
In spite of the cold shower, beads of sweat began to form on his skin. It took great effort to keep his movements smooth and unhurried as he lit the gas grill and placed the patties of meat over the flame. When the burgers were set, he moved to the edge of the porch and stared at the grove of redwoods on the edge of his meadow. Taking deep breaths he focused on the peace and serenity he knew was under the giant trees. His ragged nerves slowly began to settle.
“Vinnie’s done with the salad. Are the hamburgers ready?” Margo asked, coming up behind him.
Her presence startled him, but he didn’t let her see. Instead he reached for the tongs behind the grill and began to turn the sizzling pieces of meat. “Bring me a plate. They’re in the…”
“I found them,” she interrupted. “I checked through the cupboards until I saw what I needed to set places at the counter. I hope you don’t mind.”
He minded. He didn’t like her making herself at home. If Dr. Margo Devaull was getting any ideas about doing that, she’d better think again.
When she joined him on the porch, he thought he was ready for her presence. But as he handed her a plate her fingers accidentally brushed his. He stared.
“I’ve got it,” she told him. “I’ll take them inside.”
Without batting an eye, she’d eased through the moment. He had to hand it to her. She seemed adept at human relations. Maybe he needed to talk to someone. Get involved in a relationship. He’d been up here too long. He watched her leggy walk and shook his head. No way! It wouldn’t be her.
He followed her inside and stopped. The place settings were on the island counter. Instead of sitting side by side as they usually did when his brother came, she’d positioned them so they could all face each other while they ate. He walked over and slid the end plate down the counter. She wasn’t going to stare at him like he was a blasted guinea pig in a science lab. If anyone was going to stare, it would be him. At her.
He eyed her closely as she worked at opening a bottle of wine. She really had made herself at home. Well, enjoy the meal, baby, because that’s all you’ll have of this home.
He wanted to ignore her but couldn’t stop staring. Longings rose; longings he was unprepared for and, he realized, longings he didn’t want to fight.
She was a real stunner, he thought. Margo glanced up and their eyes locked.
Chapter 4
Vinnie came around from the kitchen and sat down at his place. “This looks great.” He spoke too loud, too enthusiastically.
Margo didn’t say a word. It was impossible. She was still trying to sort out the glimpse of turmoil that she’d seen in Zane’s eyes.
She sat down at her end of the counter, refusing to comment on where he sat. He wasn’t going to make this easy. Margo was used to that. “If you’ll pass me your glass, I’ll pour the wine.”
Margo poured the ruby liquid automatically as her mind focused on the tension that hovered around them. She could feel his resentment and anger, but he didn’t show it. He was calm; too calm. Before she could help him, she’d have to break through that wall of steel he’d erected around his emotions.
“So tell me, what do you do up here to pass the time?”
He took a bite of his hamburger and chewed for a few minutes. Would he talk to her at all? Finally, after swallowing, he cast her a steady gaze, yet hid his real thoughts. He didn’t speak.
“He hikes and gardens,” Vinnie broke into the awkward silence.
Margo wrapped her sandaled foot around the leg of the bar stool and took another sip of wine. “There must be more than that. I can’t picture you sitting around doing nothing.”
He’d been in charge of a multimillion dollar business. A person just didn’t drop out of that kind of high-pressure performance to sit on his duff. Maybe for a week or two, but not for this long.
Besides, he was in good physical condition. His mind was too active and alert. No, this man would have to be involved in something.
She considered that for a moment. Vinnie hadn’t mentioned it earlier. “You build things?”
He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but his movement was stiff and strained. He didn’t strike her as the type who minded being talked about. He was anything but modest. So why the uneasiness?
“He built this cabin and the sheds.” Vinnie pointed to the burl table. “He cut and finished that.”
“I wondered how all this luxury ended up in such an isolated place,” Margo commented before she took another bite of salad.
“You can thank me for most of it.” Vinnie gestured around the room at the comfortable but practical furniture. “Zane wanted to keep it simple.”
She smiled. “I must admit I enjoy modern conveniences.”
“The water’s from a well. It’s pumped into a tank on the hill. The electricity’s produced by a generator in the woods. I hate the sound of the ridiculous thing.” Vinnie hadn’t touched a bite of his food. Zane’s silence was obviously making him nervous, which Margo guessed was Zane’s purpose in keeping quiet.
Margo shifted. He wasn’t going to get away with this. Pointedly she directed her gaze to him and spoke. “What are you working on now?”
Zane cast her a look that almost declared she wasn’t going to get a thing out of him. Finally he said, “It’s no concern of yours what I’m working on.” He was good at erasing emotion from his voice as well as his expression.
“He’s working on another burl table,” Vinnie quickly interjected.
Margo ignored the byplay and looked around as if expecting to find the table in the cabin. “I’m interested in seeing it.” She wasn’t going to let him have the satisfaction of seeing her daunted.
“Zane has a workshop out back.”
She caught the look of annoyance Zane cast his brother. So, he didn’t want to discuss his carvings.
“How long have you been coming up here?”
Silence.
Vinnie swallowed his wine and impatiently set his glass on the counter. “Dad used to bring us when we were kids. We’d camp, hunt, and fish. Just the guys. Me and Zane – and Al.”
Margo watched Zane closely. He tensed. Was it mention of his father who’d died shortly after Zane graduated from Stanford, or was it this Al? “Who’s Al?”
The pause was too long. Margo made a mental note of it while observing the odd glances exchanged between the two brothers.
Vinnie shifted, obviously uncomfortable. “He grew up with us. Lived next door. Used to love to hunt.”
The last comment sounded like a dig. Margo was sure of it when she saw the nearly contemptuous look on Vinnie’s face. Hunting was an issue between these two. Was it possible Zane hadn’t cared for it? She thought of the way he’d handled the deer.
Vinnie stopped talking and another awkward silence began. Margo quickly spoke. “Weren’t there any females allowed?”
“Never.” Vinnie laughed. The sound seemed out of place in the tension-filled room. “Ma used to tease us and try to get invited, but I think she secretly enjoyed the time to herself. We were wild.”
“Were you in trouble a lot?”
“No. Just active. Ball games, gymnastics, every sport we could get into. We kept her busy.”
The all-American boys. Vinnie had told her that earlier.
“The sports were okay, but times up here were best. We’d hike all over these mountains, scout the wildlife,” Vinnie continued.
She noticed through his beard a faint trace of a smile on Zane’s lips. Good. Maybe he’d loosen up.
“What’s up here besides deer?” she asked.
“You’d be surprised.” Vinnie began listing a wide variety. “There’s even bears. Why, one time…” He started laughing and had to pause. “…I scared up a bear and I don’t know who was more frightened, me or the bear.”
Vinnie paused and Zane directed his gaze at his brother. To her surprise she saw the dancing lights that she’d seen in the childhood photo, only the impact of the sparks in real life were more dramatic.
“What happened?” she asked. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”
“No – Zane did, though.” Vinnie smiled ruefully. “He heard all the screaming and hollering and went tearing into the woods. I was up one tree and the bear up another. Zane started laughing. I started some serious hollering. He finally got rid of the bear by firing rifle shots, but then came to find out I was stuck in the tree.”
Vinnie went on to explain how Zane had helped his little brother get down. Margo didn’t say a word, watching the play of emotions on Zane’s face. True, Vinnie told the story, but from his reactions she could tell the brothers had been close. They shared memories of a happy past.
Vinnie’s voice broke into her musings. “He cut himself bad on a tree limb. Ended up with a bad scar. Can’t see it now under all that beard.”
A frown formed across Zane’s brow as the story turned from memories to the personal. Margo watched the efficient way he closed off all expression.
“Where’d you stay? This cabin wasn’t here,” she asked, mainly to keep the conversation going.
“We roughed it. Like Daniel Boone. Pretended we were in the wild frontier. Those were the days. No pressures. No cares. Just focus on tracking down your prey. Man against nature.” Vinnie sighed.
Margo understood but didn’t appreciate the Rambo image. Somehow she couldn’t quite picture Zane in it. Vinnie, yes. But Zane, though dangerous in a sense, wouldn’t enjoy the thrill of a kill.
“Playing frontiersman? Is that what this is all about?” It was a dig. She knew that, but she wanted to see his reaction.
Vinnie paused. Zane’s expression hardened. Vinnie spoke carefully, watching his brother. “This place is our retreat. We can relax. Escape the pressures of the business. We come here because of that.”
There it was again. The undercurrent of knowledge the two men shared. Something had happened between them; something that tied into Zane’s dropping out. She’d bet her practice on it.
Zane finished his last bite of hamburger and Margo watched him chew the tender meat. Underlying the memories pooled a loneliness. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice the few times he spoke. He needed to return to mainstream society. She was sure she could help him. If only she could find a way to make him believe it.
The meal continued in a leisurely fashion. The underlying tension eased as they stayed on safe subjects. Zane opened up, but he directed his conversation to his brother. That didn’t bother Margo. It gave her an opportunity to sit back and observe the interaction between the two men.
The similarities between the brothers ended with their builds and hair and eye color. Vinnie’s eyes were warm and alive. Zane’s were guarded and haunted. His features were lined with years of hard experience and sometimes his shoulders slumped, as they were doing now when his family was mentioned.
Vinnie’s smile broadened as he talked about his wife. “Sara’s pregnant again. She’s due this fall.”
Zane took a deep breath, almost wistfully. Did he long for a family, a relationship, children?
“Congratulations,” he murmured. Then he straightened. “What’s it going to be this time? Boy? Girl?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Vinnie shrugged as he finished the last of his hamburger. “If it’s a boy, though, we’re naming him Dominic. After you. Maybe he’ll be like you too.”
“Don’t wish that on a kid,” Zane almost growled.
The bitterness and anger were unmistakable – self-hatred. Most troubled vets hated their circumstances, hated the directions their lives had taken because of the war. But Zane seemed content with his life. It was himself he had difficulty dealing with.
It could be that his problems weren’t related to the war, or only distantly so. She didn’t think it was mid-life crisis. He was too sure of himself for that. Something had happened recently; something triggering a lot of buried wounds.
Vinn
ie didn’t respond to Zane’s remark. It must not be anything new. Instead he continued talking. “Ma’s working now.”
Zane stiffened. “What’s she working for?”
Vinnie lifted his hand to quickly assure him. “Not for money.”
“Why then?”
“It’s not really a job. It’s volunteer work. Keeps her mind occupied. Helps fill in her time. With worries about…”
Vinnie paused, but it was obvious to her and probably to Zane that he preferred not to bring up the fact that Zane’s isolation caused worry in the family.
Zane’s fist clenched so tight around his glass of wine that Margo feared it would shatter in his hand. He set it down with a thud. “Does she like it?” His voice was strained.
Vinnie ignored the tension. “Loves it. She volunteers for Make a Wish. It’s a group that grants wishes to children with terminal illnesses.”
Vinnie went into further detail, but Margo sensed Zane wasn’t listening. He’d retreated within himself again. It appeared he felt guilty about what his actions did to the family. Good. She could use that to convince him to face them.
When the last bite had been eaten, Vinnie slid off his stool and gathered the plates. “How about coffee?” he asked.
Zane said nothing.
“Sounds great to me.” Margo spoke for the first time in the last half hour. Not only did she want a cup, but it would also give them an excuse to remain longer. She had a feeling the meal was going to be the extent of Zane’s hospitality, for today anyway.
“Fix the coffee, Zane, while I go get some stuff out of the Bronco. I have some papers you need to sign.”
Vinnie didn’t wait for Zane to agree but hurried across the room and out through the sliding glass door. Margo shifted, waiting to see what Zane would do, which turned out to be nothing. He sat staring at the empty counter in front of him.
Margo decided to break the ice. “Vinnie’s efficient. Seems to have everything planned to the last detail,” she commented. “He’s handling the business affairs of your family now that you’re here, isn’t he?”
Margo studied Zane’s closed expression. He was the oldest. He should be running the business. Was he resentful? Did he want the reins back? “Do you miss being involved?” she asked.
Love's Miracles Page 5