“I read that bears emerging from hibernation are at their most dangerous,” she teased, back to her normal sunny nature. “Come on, grouchy. Let’s get that belly full of something nice.”
“You won’t be finding that in the cafeteria.”
“We’re not going to the cafeteria.”
“I should catch Mom’s doctor when he makes rounds.”
“It’s only six a.m., Micah. He’s not even out of bed yet.” She smiled, showing the dimples that had been a cheerleader’s pride and joy. “But we’ll leave a cell number with the nursing station. Lorena’s is only two blocks away.”
Lorena’s Café, where the biscuits could make a grown man weep. Suddenly, Micah’s stomach caught up with the game plan, rumbling to voice its opinion. He turned to his baby sister and saw her as the woman she’d become. “When did you get so relentless? You used to be just cute.”
Her eyes sparked. “I was always relentless. Any girl with three big brothers has no choice.” She dimpled again. “Cute is how a little sister gets things done.”
Micah found himself chuckling for the second time in twenty-four hours, though the women who’d provoked the laughter couldn’t have been more diverse.
But he didn’t want to think about Jezebel Hart anymore, so he grabbed his sister in a headlock and relished her squeal. “And this is how big brothers fight back.”
A short scuffle ensued, as Lily sought to use her ultimate weapon: Micah’s ticklishness. He released the headlock and tried to dodge, but she was stuck on him like a tick, and those demonic fingers were everywhere. Short of really throwing his size against her, he was helpless, and Marian Smith had taught her boys one cardinal rule: a man never takes advantage of a woman by virtue of being larger.
But his only other defense was to run from a girl he outweighed by a good eighty pounds, and a man had his pride.
Then inspiration hit. “Oh, no. Lily—check out your truck.”
She hesitated just long enough for him to sweep her up and throw her over his shoulder.
“You creep!” Lily shrieked and pummeled his back with her fists while Micah laughed, belly-deep.
“What in blazes are you two doing? I swear I could hear you at the clinic.”
Micah faced Levi, as Lily struggled to right herself.
But both Levi and Noah, who was standing beside him, were grinning.
Finally, Micah released Lily, who shoved an elbow into his belly. She shook her brown hair out of her eyes and huffed, “I was going to treat this big baboon to breakfast at Lorena’s, but I’ve changed my mind.”
Micah sobered. “We should go back inside.”
Noah’s gaze flicked to the hospital entrance. “I just called a few minutes ago. They said Mom’s condition hasn’t changed.”
“Yes, but—”
“Micah was sleeping in the chair beside her bed,” Lily interrupted. “He needs to get away for a few minutes.”
Micah wasn’t so certain. “I’ll just go—”
“To breakfast with us,” Levi said and grabbed his arm. “Great idea, squirt.”
Micah gave one more glance back at the building.
“You’re here, Micah,” Levi said quietly. “That’s all she wanted. She’s going to wake up, and she’ll need help. None of us will be much good if we don’t pace ourselves. You know she’d say the same thing.”
Micah paused, then exhaled. “You’re right.”
“Then it’s settled.” Noah grinned. “Lily’s buying us all breakfast.” He slung an arm around her neck.
“Guess again, fat cat. You’re the one with the hot car. You pay.”
“You’re the one who was brawling in the parking lot in front of God and everybody.”
“You are the most obnoxious—”
Micah and Levi exchanged grins as the traditional bickering of their younger siblings heated up once more.
“Five dollars Lily wins,” Levi observed.
“Sucker bet,” Micah answered. “He hasn’t won an argument with her since she was ten, but okay.” They shook hands. “Someone’s got to prop up his ego.”
They shook hands and followed.
After a lot of catching up and trading insults over coffee, they bent to the task of cleaning their plates once the food was delivered. Micah couldn’t remember enjoying a meal this much in years.
Suddenly, around the table, silence fell, and Micah noticed them exchanging glances and braced himself.
Levi cleared his throat. “Would you two give us a minute?”
Lily glared, and Noah appeared relieved, already beginning to rise.
“Keep your seat,” Micah said. Then to Levi, “This is about the cottage, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready to sell it.”
Levi exhaled sharply. “It’s a good offer, Micah. I promised the buyer an answer.”
“What business do you have making promises about my house? And how can you say the offer’s good when I never gave you a price?”
“Whoa, buddy,” Noah cautioned. “You’re out of line.”
“It’s my place. My sweat and blood that went into it. My decision and mine alone what to do with it and—”
“You ever plan to live there again?” Noah challenged.
“What concern is it of yours?” Micah’s gaze swung around to each of them. “Any of you? If I get it in my head to let it rot to the ground, it’s my own damn decision.”
“Micah.” Lily placed one calming hand on his arm. “Levi’s the one who’s been watching over it more than any of us. You’re not being fair.”
She was right, but it didn’t seem to matter. He shook her off and put his palms on the table’s edge, prepared to depart. “I didn’t ask anyone to do that.”
“Sit down.” Lily’s voice could have been their mother’s then, quiet but resolute. She caught his gaze and wouldn’t let go. “It’s a miserable topic, especially now, but that house deserves to be loved, Micah. You put your heart and soul into it, and I don’t believe you really want to see it crumble. Heaven knows we all understand why you might never feel able to live there again, but you made it a piece of heaven, and Levi has someone who appreciates that. Who loves it precisely because she sees in it what you put there, board by board.”
Micah’s anger deflated with Lily’s words. His shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry. Noah’s right—I was out of line.”
Levi studied Micah. “Sometimes I swear I’d sell my soul to love someone the way you loved Charlotte.” He clapped Micah on the shoulder. “Other times, I’m grateful as hell I don’t. If you aren’t ready to sell, fine, but if you don’t plan to ever live here again, Lily’s right—it’s too great a place to just sit and rot. And Three Pines is hardly a hot spot for real estate. I can’t imagine when you’d get a better offer.”
“Part of me can’t stand to ever set foot in it again. Another part can’t forget—” Micah rubbed his forehead, all at once as weary as he’d been in the middle of the night. “I don’t know what I want to do, but give me the details and I’ll think about it. Who’s the buyer?”
“Her name is Jezebel Hart. She’s managing Skeeter’s Bar, but she says she’s got savings enough for a down payment, and…”
His brother went on, but nothing penetrated the dull echo in Micah’s head.
Jezebel Hart. Oh, man. Last night’s mistake wasn’t over after all. He’d thought when he left in the wee hours that he’d never see her again, that the insanity would remain safely buried because he’d soon be leaving and—
“Micah?”
He finally noticed that all three of his siblings were eyeing him. “What?” He blinked. “I’m sorry. I—” He glanced away, then back. “No.”
Levi frowned at him. “What do you mean, no? It’s a fair price. You can’t expect to do any better if you put it on the market—that is, if there were a real estate market in Three Pines—”
“No,” he interrupted. “I’m not selling Charlotte’s house to some f
loozy cocktail waitress.” Even as he said the words, he winced inwardly, but only for a second. Selling Charlotte’s house to a woman who just last night had fallen into bed with a perfect stranger was out of the question.
“She’s not a waitress, not that it matters. Haven’t you been listening to me? She’s single-handedly saved Skeeter’s bacon, and she’s done some nice things for a number of people. She organized the—”
“I don’t care.” Micah rose. “Tell her no.”
Levi, too, stood. “Do it your own damn self. You explain why her money’s not good enough.” He was always slower to anger than Micah, but when he finally got mad, it was not a sight for the faint of heart. “You’ve always been too saintly to darken Skeeter’s door, but I’m sure you know the way.” He threw down his napkin. “Or better yet, I’ll drive you there myself and drop your haughty New York ass in the dirt.”
“Would you two sit down?” Lily hissed. “People are staring. Maybe you don’t care, but consider Mama.”
The thought of embarrassing their mother drained the hot air out of them faster than anything else could. Micah sat down with a sigh.
Levi didn’t. “I’m done. I’ve got to open the clinic. I’ll stop by the hospital later.” He left without a backward look.
Micah passed one hand over his face and cursed. “I can’t explain.” It was only partly a lie. His insides were a nasty mess of guilt and rage. “I’ll square it with him somehow, but I can’t—I’m not ready—”
“You don’t have to decide just yet,” Lily soothed. “Give it a few days.”
Noah spoke up. “I met Jezebel, Micah. Last time I was here. Don’t assume too much from her name or what she does for a living.”
Vivid images of that voluptuous body entwined with his made Micah snort, even though the night was every bit as much his doing as hers.
“Go with me out there this evening, just to grab a beer. You can take her measure.”
I already have, bro. I can still feel her hips in my hands, her thighs locked around—
He cleared his throat. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not? It isn’t like you to be so close-minded, Micah,” Lily said. “Want me to come along?”
“No!” He was horrified at the mere idea.
“Mom says she’s got a good heart. When she first came to town, people didn’t know what to make of her, but she’s generous with her time and—”
And her body. A sneer was building, but just then, a memory of her stroking his hair as he laid his head on her bosom intervened. The sense of comfort, of peace. He leaped to his feet. “I don’t want to talk about it. I—”
“Hey, Micah,” said a voice from beside him.
He spotted Chappy Martinez and went very still.
“I was going to offer you a ride home last night from Skeeter’s, but you and Jezebel seemed to have some business between you—”
That did it. Micah turned from the gazes of his very interested siblings, threw some money on the table—
And stalked out the door.
Chapter Six
Micah hadn’t bothered asking Noah if he wanted his car back. Sometime today, he’d go to his mom’s nursery and see if that old truck of his dad’s was still around; if not, he’d get someone to drive him to Tyler, where he’d rent a vehicle.
But for now, he needed to be alone.
And he had to face Charlotte’s cottage.
Hell. He slapped his palm against the steering wheel. Jezebel Hart thinks she deserves Charlotte’s house.
Of all the nerve—
An acid taste in the back of his throat was the perfect accompaniment to the tumult in his brain. He was furious. Outraged. Gut-sick with shame. He’d spent last night sitting in a third-rate bar, raking his gaze over that woman’s flagrant curves, getting aroused by the thought of touching her, when Charlotte was dead in the ground and his baby with her. He’d never be able to touch his child’s face or bury his nose in Charlotte’s hair again. Never hold her close and protect her from—
Gravel sprayed, and the car spun as the tires lost purchase. For one tempting second, Micah considered letting go. Allowing the embankment ahead—
He took control and skidded to a stop. His heart thudded as adrenaline rocketed through his blood.
He stared out the windshield and wondered why he’d stopped. Wasn’t this what he’d wanted—to join Charlotte in that paradise she believed was waiting for them both?
He let his forehead fall onto the steering wheel and squeezed his eyes shut.
Paradise was out of his reach, had been ever since the day he’d railed at the sweet, frail woman who’d so fervently longed to bear his child. If there was such a place as heaven, she and the baby were surely there, since no one on earth had a purer heart.
But even if he hadn’t let her die without his forgiveness, even if that grievous sin could somehow be expunged—
The fact that he’d fallen into bed with a bombshell instead of facing the home Charlotte had loved would surely spell his doom. And now he was supposed to hand over the keys of her dream to that same temptress and just… What? Walk away forever? Wipe out that part of his life?
Who would sit in Charlotte’s rocking chair? Who would recall that she treasured her grandmother’s biscuit cutter? Understand how many nights she’d spent embroidering daisies on her kitchen curtains?
No. He couldn’t sell the cottage. However desperate he was to escape the pain, it was his penance, his burden to bear. He had no right to move on, to forget her, though sometimes he wished he could just bash every memory out of his head. Once he’d had everything a man could wish for and had thrown heaven away.
Fantasies, he’d learned, carry a price, one he would never finish paying.
He pulled the car into the road and resumed his journey.
Time for the next installment on his debt.
Jezebel itched for a set of pruning shears. The trumpet vines tangling over this section of fence were about to topple it. She still knew too little about gardening, but beneath the tiny new leaves dusting the outer stalks lay a labyrinth of dead branches leaching once-white paint from the sweetly carved pickets. Surely some thinning out was in order.
If Marian Smith weren’t in the hospital, she’d consult her. Her nursery brought customers from miles around to Three Pines because her stock was of the highest quality.
But Marian was in the hospital.
And she was Micah’s mother.
Under other circumstances, Jezebel thought, as she prowled the grounds of this place she longed to own, she would have joined the vigil, at least to the extent of running errands for Marian’s children and friends or making coffee or snacks to help out.
But that was before last night.
She spotted a weed-choked flowerbed and dropped to her knees to lose herself in something productive.
What on earth would Marian think of her now? Jezebel had been celibate since her arrival, for months before that, as a matter of fact. Then, in one fell swoop, she’d laid eyes on Marian’s grieving son—
And lost not only her mind but every shred of good sense she had.
Now here she was, all in an uproar, terrified that her life was irrevocably changed and—
“What the hell are you doing?” a voice roared.
Jezebel spun toward the intruder, lost her balance and fell smack on her behind in the mud.
Backlit by the rising sun’s rays, a powerful, menacing frame towered over her. “Get off my property.” The man’s voice was guttural and fierce.
She shaded her eyes as she struggled to her feet—
And stared straight into the furious face of the man she most did not want to see.
He advanced on her. “You’re trespassing. Beat it.”
She backed into the rock edging and lost her footing again. She grappled for something, anything, to catch her—
Instead, Micah did.
The touch of this angry stranger had nothing in common with the eager,
bone-melting caresses of last night or the man who’d leaped to her rescue. He gripped her arms so tightly she was sure she’d bruise.
“I’ll give you thirty seconds, then I’m calling the sheriff.” He squeezed harder, his face blazing with contempt. “I’ll never sell this house to you, got that? You’re not fit to wipe your shoes on Charlotte’s mat. Get the hell out of here before I—”
Suddenly, she’d had enough. She used her own considerable strength to shove at his chest. “Take your hands off me, or I’ll file charges for assault.” When he didn’t budge, she stomped her heel on his instep as she’d been taught in self-defense class.
He yelped, and his grip on her faltered. She slipped to the side while he hopped on one foot and cursed.
“Don’t you dare manhandle me,” she said.
If his face had been fury before, it settled into icy disdain now as he straightened. “Then don’t ever let me find you here again. You don’t belong. You never could.”
Her racing heart twisted at the scorn in his tone. “You’re letting this beautiful place fall into ruin. What kind of memorial is that?” The second her words were out, she wished she’d recalled them. She was not a hateful person.
But he’d made her feel worthless. For too long, that had been the story of her life.
“Get out.” Visceral menace. “We’re done.”
She had the urge to laugh. You might be surprised. But she restrained herself, certain now that whether or not she were pregnant, she’d never tell him. She might not be worthy of much, but she merited more than his contempt. Even if she didn’t, her baby did.
And for the sake of that child, she made herself speak up, though she craved to flee. “Tell me why.”
He goggled. “What?”
“Why won’t you sell it to me? You refuse to live in it.”
“Because—” He flung out one hand and indicated the house. “If I were willing to sell Charlotte’s house, it would never be to someone like you.”
She steeled herself against the insult. “There were two people in that bed last night. I didn’t notice any restraints being used.”
Dream House Page 6
