Just a Whisper Away

In a moment, he’d pulled in beside her, their vehicles pointing east and west, driver’s-side windows parallel to each other’s. Jace lowered his window.

Feeling like the intruder she was, Abbie met his gaze across three feet of cool air.

“You’re twenty-two hours early,” he said.

“I know. I had to take my dad’s fiancée home, and as long as I was out, I thought I’d try to locate your house. I was just turning around.”

His brow lined. “Your dad’s fiancée lives on this road?”

Abbie understood his confusion. She’d only seen three houses on the way, and they were all at the far end of Maxwell. Except for the dilapidated barn she’d passed a quarter mile down the road, Jace’s home was the only building on this stretch of road. “No, she lives in town, but it was a pretty night, and I was at loose ends.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m still on Pacific time. Everyone else’s night is winding down, but it feels like mine’s just beginning.” She paused as the realization that there wasn’t another car, home or person in sight made her feel weightless—made her nerve endings dance. Again, she wondered why she’d never felt this way with Collin.

“Your home’s lovely,” she said when he didn’t move to fill the silence. “Living out this far, I’m surprised that you don’t have a gate or a chain across the drive.”

“Why?” he asked, faintly amused. “To keep nosy people from invading my space? Gates and chains only make thieves think there’s something worth stealing inside.”

“Is there?”

“I don’t know. What do you consider valuable?”

Life without fear, Abbie thought instantly, recalling why she was a continent away from her life and her friends. “I think the things we consider valuable change from day to day.”

“I think you’re right.” Then he smiled a little and nodded toward the house. “Would you like to come inside? It’s a little warmer and more comfortable if we’re going to have a philosophical conversation.”

Abbie shook her head. “Thanks, but I can’t. I told Dad I’d be right back. He’ll start thinking I buried his car in a snowdrift if I’m late.”

The mention of her father made Jace’s smile fade, and suddenly Abbie needed to tell him that she knew about her dad’s financial blackballing. “I asked him what he’d done to you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. The night of the gala, you said there was more between the two of you than the gazebo incident.”

“It wasn’t an incident, Abbie, we had sex.”

“All right, we had sex. I just want you to know that I asked, and he admitted that he’d turned down your application for a loan—and the rest of it.” She felt a sharp twinge. He hadn’t deserved any of the humiliation her father had dished out. “I’m so sorry for that, Jace. But I really don’t understand why you’d go to him for money. You had to know how he’d react.”

“His bank was advertising low interest on business loans, and I assumed he was a businessman first and a father second. I also assumed I wouldn’t be requesting a loan from the bank president, but from a loan officer.”

Abbie filled in the rest. As soon as her father saw the name on the loan application, he’d called Jace in and put him in his place. Again.

“I’m glad he didn’t derail your plans. The changes I saw when I came by the other day were amazing.”

“We’re growing. With the kilns we put in two years ago, we employ thirty-five people now. I oversee the lumber end of it and Ty handles the logging. He’s turned into a savvy businessman.”

“I suspect Ty’s big brother knows what he’s doing, too,” she returned quietly. “I’m happy for both of you.”

“Thanks. We’re happy for us, too.”

Another uneasy silence stretched between them then, and Abbie dropped her father’s Ford Expedition into gear. When conversation deteriorated into stock replies, it was time to go. But, hopefully, addressing a bit of the past tonight would make tomorrow night easier on both of them.

She glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard, then back at him. “See you in twenty-one hours and forty-five minutes.”

“Yeah. See you then.”

Twenty-one hours and forty-five minutes, she thought, following her tracks back up to the road. That was something lovers might say to each other, lovers eager to relive warm, liquid kisses and shivery touches in the dark. Lovers who knew how to smile at each other and never ran out of things to say.

Abbie pressed down harder on the gas pedal as an old longing welled up inside of her, surprising her with its poignancy. Obviously, some lovers were better at those things than others.

Jace unlocked the front door and stepped inside the house, then shrugged out of his leather jacket, kicked off his boots and wandered into his home office. The light on his answering machine was flashing. The first message was from Ty, saying that he was headed to a local watering hole for a beer and a burger and he’d be at Candy’s Bar if Jace wanted to join him. The second was from their foster mom and dad who were wintering in Florida.

Betty Parrish’s musical laughter spilled from his machine. “Hi, Jacey.”

Jace smiled. He’d been Jacey to her ever since he and Ty had gone to live with Betty and Carl after Jillie Rae cut out.

“I just called to give you a weather update,” she went on. “It’s seventy-four and sunny.” She laughed again. “You know, you and Ty could be enjoying some warmer temps, too, if you’d scoot down here for a few days. Now, the campground’s having a luau next Friday night and I need a head count. Call me back if you can make it, but do it before eight o’clock.” Another laugh. “It’s dollar movie night. We’re seeing an old Doris Day film. Love you! Bye.”

Still smiling, he ambled into the kitchen to fix himself a sandwich. His coupon-clipping foster mom loved a good bargain. Always had. One of the first lessons she’d taught him was, don’t squander your money or your talents. At the time, he didn’t have any money and he doubted he had talent, so the words hadn’t sunk in until at least a decade later.

Jace stared at his reflection in the dark window, his vision blurring as the film strip in his mind rolled back ten years, then twenty…then twenty-four. Images appeared. And suddenly he was twelve years old again and watching nervously for his mother to come back, his hands cupped on another dark window.

Jillie Rae had dropped them off early that morning, saying she was going job hunting and she’d see them around lunchtime. But it was nearly ten o’clock when the phone at old Mrs. Conrad’s place finally rang. Scrambling from the glass, he and Ty had stood in the living room of her neat-as-a-pin trailer like proper soldiers, waiting for word that Jillie was on her way.

Mrs. Conrad’s shocked voice cut like a laser through Jace’s consciousness. “What do you mean, you’re not coming back? I can’t take care of these kids! I have a heart condition!” Then she’d become angry. “Jillie Rae, you get back here right now. Just clean up your act and catch the next bus home. You brought these children into the world, and they’re your responsibility. You need to do right by them!”

Then Ty had started to cry, and Jace had held him and told him it would be okay. Jillie’d come for them. But after Ty finally fell asleep, curled against him on Mrs. Conrad’s studio couch, Jace had cried, too, because he was afraid he’d lied. No matter what kind of mother she’d been, no matter that she sometimes passed herself off as their older sister and she wanted them to call her Jillie Rae, she was all they’d had and they’d loved her.

The next day, they’d met a woman from Children’s Services and a few hours after that, they’d moved into the Parrish’s home on Calendar Street. Betty and Carl had opened their arms to them, and in the process, saved their lives.

They’d never seen Jillie again.

The hum of an engine broke his thoughts. Feeling a quick shot of adrenaline, Jace strode to the front door and looked out. But it wasn’t Abbie’s SUV. It was Ty’s dark gray Silverado. Moments later, his brother was stamping snow from his feet and coming inside.

“Hey,” he called.

“Hey, yourself,” Jace answered stepping back. “Thought you were hanging out at Candy’s tonight. I was there for a few minutes around six, but I didn’t see you.”

“Yeah, I know. I got tied up.”

Jace raised a dubious brow. “A little early in the evening for that sort of thing, isn’t it?”

Blue eyes twinkling, Ty slipped off his gray vest and tossed it through the archway to land on Jace’s brown leather sofa. “It’s never too early. Unfortunately, this kind of tie-up wasn’t that much fun.”

“Oh? Where were you?”

“The hospital. I wanted to talk to Arnie.”

The mood in the room sobered. “Think that was wise?” Jace asked.

“You phoned him,” Ty pointed out.

“A phone call’s not a visit. We’re supposed to steer clear of Arnie. The bloodsucking lawyers are doing the talking.”

“I know, but we’ve known Arnie for a long time, and I wanted to hear what he had to say.” Ty inclined his head toward the kitchen. “Got any coffee made?”

Hoping Ty’s visit hadn’t done more harm than good, Jace started walking. “No, but it’ll only take a minute to make some.”

“Good. Because we need to talk, and I think better with a mug in my hand.”

Minutes later they were standing across from each other at the kitchen bar, ignoring the leather stools, and listening to the spit and splash of coffee brewing on the adjacent countertop.

After height, similar facial structure and the requisite jeans and boots, people had to look hard to see that they were related. Ty’s hair was as thick as Jace’s, but it was medium brown, not black, and his eyes were the deep blue women loved. But then, women loved everything about his little brother, and Ty felt the same about them. Short, tall, blond, brunette, he enjoyed them all. But he’d never had a serious relationship in his life.

Then again, neither had he, Jace admitted. Not one that had been totally reciprocated. In that way, he and Ty were like their mother. All flings, no strings.

“I don’t think this lawsuit is Arnie’s idea,” Ty began. “I think it’s his wife’s. Callie’s a nice woman, but they’ve got four kids and I think she’s worried that Arnie’ll never work again.”

Jace nodded gravely. He and Ty understood the need for security more than most people did. Financial and emotional. “She could be right.” The tree that put Arnie in the hospital had done enough damage to his leg that it would be a minor miracle if he was able to walk again without a cane.

“I’ve been giving that some thought, though,” Jace continued. “If he can’t log anymore, we’ll find something else for him.”

“Not the sawmill. Callie’d never go for that, even with all the safeguards.” Leaving the bar, Ty went to the refrigerator to rummage around. When he returned, he was balancing assorted packages of deli cold cuts, cheese and spicy mustard on his arm. “Want a sandwich?”

“No, you go ahead.” He wasn’t hungry anymore. Now, he just wanted this thing with Arnie Flagg settled in a way that benefited all of them, and he wanted Abbie Winslow to get the hell out of his mind. He could still see her staring through that open window, her hair lifting in the wind and her dark eyes serious.

Ty pulled a loaf of sliced rye from the bread drawer. “By the way, I passed a dark-colored Ford Expedition about a half mile up the road. Looked like our favorite banker’s ride.”

Jace shot a glance at him, wondering if Ty was fishing. “It was.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. I’m not.”

Eyes brimming with interest, Ty pulled a plate from the cupboard. “So, what did Morgan want? Another opportunity to toss around a few insults? A pint of your blood?” He grinned suddenly. “Or did he just drop by to tell you to keep your nasty Rogan lips off his daughter?”

“None of the above,” Jace returned dryly. “It wasn’t him. It was her.”

Chapter 4

Several minutes later, Ty narrowed his bewildered gaze on Jace, took a bite from his sandwich then chewed for a moment. “She’s working with you on the project? How did that happen?”

“She came to the meeting. I gave her something to do.”

His brother stared as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. That made them even. Jace couldn’t believe he’d suggested it. Good God, he was mere days away from turning thirty-six. Most men his age had a working brain by now.

“Let me get this straight. You asked and she said yes? With all the bad blood between you, her and her dad?”

“Yep.” But he’d never admit to Ty or anyone else that his reason for doing it was more than a little muddled in his mind.

Feeling a worm turn in his gut, Jace collected Ty’s sandwich fixings and put them away.

“Why would she agree to something like that?”

“Beats me. Maybe because this was the most appropriate job for her if she wanted to help. Obviously, she won’t be dishing out carrots at the dinner. She’ll be back in L.A. before Easter.”

Closing the refrigerator, he crossed to the counter beside the sink where the coffeemaker had finished brewing, and filled two mugs. He slid one over to Ty.

“Is this about sticking it to Morgan again? I thought you’d gotten past that.”

“I have gotten past it.” Raising his mug, Jace took a cautious sip. “I’m just filling a position that needs to be filled.”

“Right. First the dance and the kiss at the country club, now this.” He spoke again before Jace could comment, mild surprise entering his voice. “Or is it payback? She’s the one who served you your nuts on a plate way back when. Don’t tell me you’re thinking about riding that train again.”

Jace sent his perceptive little brother a firm look. “My interest in Abbie starts and ends with the project. All I’m looking for is a warm body to handle some publicity and contact last year’s sponsors for donations. She’s pretty, well-spoken and strong. She’ll get us some money. Now, can we talk about something else?”

“Sure,” Ty replied, sampling his own coffee. “You pick the topic. But we both know your pat answers about her warm body are major crapola. You’re interested again.”

“Ty?” Jace said coolly.

“Yeah?”

“Eat your sandwich.”

An hour later, Jace walked Ty to his truck, then crossed the snow-covered gravel to his workshop and let himself inside. He flicked on the lights and the small electric space heater, then went to his workbench to finish sanding the drawer fronts on the small chest he was building for Betty. Okay, so Ty hadn’t been too far off the mark. Part of him was interested again. But it was only his nocturnal caveman part—the part that wouldn’t sleep again tonight. As for anything beyond that… He wasn’t the same guy who’d let her use him back then.

Sex with him had been the quickest way to send a message to Morgan, and she’d done it. Jace slipped on his earmuffs and safety glasses and plugged in the sander. That night had been all about Abbie’s emancipation. And he’d been the gullible fool who’d made it happen.

The clerk behind the counter motioned that one of the workstations had opened up, and Danny smiled at the too thin, fiftyish woman sitting across from him in the busy mall’s Sweet Bytes Internet Café. Soft pop music played over the low conversation coming from the dozen or so tables. “You’re up, Miss Murphy. Time to surf the information superhighway.”

Smiling broadly, Janice Murphy retrieved her cane from the floor and winced as she got to her feet, a few biscotti crumbs falling from her cheap navy pantsuit. “Time to collect my e-mails, anyway,” she replied.

Just then, the half-dressed brunette who’d been giving Danny the eye since she got there passed by, banging into the older woman and knocking the cane from her hand.

Shooting her a murderous look, Danny leapt up from the tiny table where they’d been sipping mocha lattes, then steadied his new friend and returned her cane. “Sorry about that,” he muttered. “Someone should teach that girl some manners.”

“It’s all right, Anthony,” the graying woman replied, using Danny’s new name. “It’s crowded in here. I’m sure she didn’t realize what she did.”

Danny doubted that. The harlot—that’s what his holier-than-thou father called women who looked like that—was too interested in showing off her boobs and spandex to care about anyone else. Too interested in teasing every guy in the place with a free show so she could steal their cash later.

Miss Murphy tried to put a dollar down on the table, but Danny stopped her. “Uh-uh,” he said, giving it back. “You let me share your table. I’ll get the tip.”

Smiling again, she tucked the bill back into her pocket. But then her pale eyes filled with sympathy. “Anthony, I’d love to let you go ahead of me. I know you’re eager to get busy. But I’m afraid I’ll already have a dark walk to the bus stop.”

“Don’t even suggest it,” Danny replied. Las Vegas was teeming with people who could prey on a woman alone. Men, too, he thought, glancing across the room again at the lipsticked and eye-shadowed harlot. This time, she intercepted his look and waved coyly. Dozens of tinkling silver trinkets waggled to him from her charm bracelet, and Danny wondered if they were like the notches on a gunslinger’s gun. One charm for every man she’d bedded.

Danny brought his gaze back to the angel goodness in Miss Murphy’s eyes. “Don’t worry about me. Another workstation will open up soon, and I’ll find her.” He hid the quick tickle of excitement in his belly and dropped his voice forlornly. “I’ll find her if it’s the last thing I do.”

She squeezed his arm. “I’ll pray that you do, Anthony. I was young and in love once, too.”

Taking his seat again, he watched her cane her way to the open station.

It was eight o’clock on Wednesday night, and as Danny finished his latte, he caught sight of his reflection in the café’s etched glass wall. He looked good. Different. Besides the black dye job and amber glasses, sunless tanning lotion had darkened his skin to a shade more in line with his new name, and the eyebrow pencil had darkened his brows and deepened the creases beside his mouth.

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