Echo Lake

by Carla Neggers

  “Fair enough.”

  “Did Brody tell you he worked for us before he left town? Pop hired him.”

  Heather shook her head, hiding her surprise. “I didn’t know.”

  “Brody lasted two weeks.”

  “What happened?”

  “Ask him.” Justin held up a hand. “I don’t know myself. Pop won’t talk.”

  “Did he quit or was he fired?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Was this before or after the big fight you all had with him?”

  “Before. It seemed like a big fight at the time. Now...” He drank some of his coffee, his blue eyes taking on a warmth that reminded Heather of what a good man her second-eldest brother was. “It doesn’t seem like anything at all.”

  He left without finishing his coffee.

  Heather ordered a breakfast sandwich to go. It turned out to be a good idea since she passed her youngest brothers—Adam and Christopher—as she headed out. She could tell they were in interrogation mode, too.

  Or maybe just curious, she thought, climbing into her truck. Just as she had been when Justin was falling head over heels for Samantha Bennett, a woman no one in Knights Bridge had expected to be the right match for him. But instead of whisking him off to adventures all over the world, treasure-hunter Samantha had found a home in Knights Bridge, a place where she could be herself and feel settled.

  As Heather started her truck, she noticed it was a cloudy, dank, gray morning that fit her mood. Knights Bridge had never been home for Brody. Getting her out of her Glinda dress last night wasn’t going to change that.

  She looked out at the town common and the classic houses that ringed it. Could she ever leave this place to be with him? Had Justin asked himself that same question when he’d fallen in love with Samantha, or hadn’t it occurred to him? Was it a given for her brothers, working for Sloan & Sons, living here in their hometown?

  Brandon appeared out of nowhere and tapped her window. She rolled it down. “You startled me.”

  “Thought you had that glassy-eyed look. Anything on your mind?”

  He’d obviously talked to either Justin or Eric, maybe both. “Breakfast.”

  “Right. Maggie said to tell you she’s trying new recipes tonight and making enough food for an army if you want to come by.” He kept his gaze on her. “You can bring a guest if you want.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see how the day goes and let Maggie know.”

  Brandon stood back, and Heather rolled up her window. As she started out of the village, the sun tried to break through the gray. She smiled, taking it as a sign even if it wasn’t one, and ate her breakfast sandwich as she reviewed her to-do list for the day and focused on her work.

  Eighteen

  It hadn’t been a dream.

  The acres of pink fabric. The magic wand. The frustrating zipper.

  The warm soft skin of Heather’s back as he’d finally slid the zipper down to her waist, knowing he wanted to make love to her.

  Brody hadn’t known they would go that far, but they had.

  He should have guessed she was inexperienced and have gone easy, but he hadn’t. He hadn’t even realized what was going on until she’d dug her fingers into his back. By then it was too late—and not just for him.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said. “Last night wasn’t a dream.”

  He walked up to the main house. Much of the snow and ice had melted with a few warm days while he was away, but he wasn’t fooled. It was early February. The New England winter was still in full swing.

  Vic had arrived from New York. Heather’s truck was there along with several other trucks and vans. Brody noticed the Sloan & Sons logo on a couple of them. He saw her on a side porch with a group of men, including her brothers Justin and Brandon—an indication that they were getting serious about the work on Vic’s house.

  Brody left them to their meeting and went into the kitchen.

  “I couldn’t invite Adrienne to dinner last night,” Vic said from the table. He had War and Peace opened in front of him but didn’t seem to be making much progress.

  “All the things you’ve done your life, Vic, and you chickened out on a simple dinner invitation?”

  “Totally. You’ve never seen such cold feet.” He jumped up, grabbed his jacket. “The place isn’t the same without Rohan. Never thought I’d say that. I’m going down to Elly O’Dunn’s to pick him up.”

  “He needs a home.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, he does. All this bouncing around isn’t good for him. I told Adrienne I would see to him. She’s got enough to worry about, poor kid.”

  Brody saw that Vic had washed out Rohan’s bowls and set them on the counter to dry. “Maybe Elly’s been able to teach Rohan some basics.”

  “Like not chewing my cashmere scarf? I found it in his bed. Little rascal.”

  “He’s not going to stay little.”

  “Good.” Vic shrugged on jacket. “Brody...I know you have a lot on your mind. I just want to say one thing to you, and then I’ll stay out of it. You don’t owe anyone. Not after all you’ve done. You don’t owe your parents, the Sloans, Knights Bridge, the stupid, mixed-up troublemaker you used to be. You don’t owe me.”

  “I appreciate that, Vic.”

  “No, you don’t. You’re gritting your teeth. That’s okay with me, provided you take my words to heart.” He pointed a finger at Brody. “You do not owe anyone. Do you hear me?”

  Brody yawned. “Sure, Ambassador Scarlatti. I hear you.”

  “I had a professor who threw anyone who yawned out of class. He regarded yawning as insolent and rude.” Vic sighed. “When I say no one, Brody, I mean no one—including Greg Rawlings and the entire Diplomatic Security Service. You’ve done your part. There are countless ways you can put your training and experience to good and honorable use if you so choose.”

  “If I quit, you mean.”

  “If you decide to move on, is what I mean. You’re young, but you’ve done more in ten years than a lot of agents do in twice that. Have a life before it’s too late.” Vic snatched his car key off the table. “I know I’m jumping the gun, but I also know you. Give Heather a chance to fit into your life and for you to fit into hers. Don’t assume it’s impossible and push her away.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Vic.”

  Vic frowned. “You two are involved, aren’t you? Good heavens. I hope you’re not unconsciously getting back at the Sloans through her.”

  Brody picked up the dog bowls. “Go fetch Rohan.”

  “You’re an all-in type. I know, because I am, too. You think that will hurt Heather. You think she belongs here in Knights Bridge.”

  “Everyone thinks that, Vic, including you.”

  “I admit I didn’t see the sparks between you two until they were about to burst into flame, but now that I do—” He sighed. “Let her decide where she belongs.”

  “Do you think there’s any doubt?”

  “I don’t think it’s as black-and-white as you obviously do,” Vic said. “She’s not a home-leave fling for you, Brody. I can see it in your eyes when you talk about her. But you’re going to let her believe she doesn’t matter to you, aren’t you?”

  Brody ignored Vic and set the dog bowls on the floor in the mudroom. “I want Heather to focus on renovating this place.”

  Vic had followed him into the mudroom. He nodded thoughtfully. “I see.” He placed a hand on the doorknob. “You can want whatever you want, Brody, but Heather is a Sloan, and she will do as she damn well pleases. You like her independent spirit. Don’t try to tell me you don’t.”

  “I won’t, then.”

  “I thought maybe you and Adrienne since she’s worldly and nomadic.” He opened the door. “She knew she wouldn’t stay here. That’s why s
he pushed me to get puppy training books out of the library.”

  Brody could see the anguish in the older man’s eyes. “What are you going to do, Vic? Immersing yourself in renovations will only take you so far. You need a plan for the next thirty years.”

  “I thought about writing my memoirs, but nobody gives a damn. I’ll do something else. It’ll be fun to train Rohan. I’ve always wanted a dog.”

  “You haven’t always wanted a dog.”

  “You’re leaving. You’ve got that look. When?”

  “As soon as I hear from Greg Rawlings.”

  “I thought he’d been shot.”

  “He’s all better.”

  The Sloan & Sons vehicles departed all at once after an hour, leaving only Heather’s truck. Brody went out to the front porch and found her staring down at the frozen lake. “We’re expecting another storm this weekend,” she said without looking at him. “Could be the biggest of the season.”

  “I saw the forecast.”

  She glanced at him. “Will you be here to see it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is this what your life is like—not knowing where you’ll be day to day?”

  “Not always, no. It is right now because of a particular situation.”

  “The one that led to your friend Greg getting shot.” She inhaled, turning back to the lake. “What really happened that night with my brothers? Did you vandalize a job site?”

  “Depends on your point of view.”

  “Were there mitigating circumstances?”

  “I was eighteen and angry.”

  She shook her head. “It wasn’t that simple.”

  He stood next to her at the rail. He could see shadows on the snow-covered lake. “It was a practical joke that wasn’t really a practical joke, and it got out of hand. I was pissed off at the world.”

  “You didn’t hurt anyone?”

  “Not physically, no. I never knew how much of a mess you can make with a couple dozen pumpkins. I cleaned it up, left town and got my act together.”

  “I didn’t know you worked for Sloan & Sons until this morning. What happened?”

  “I got fired.”

  “My father fired you,” she said, not making it a question.

  “One of those things.”

  “And you come home and discover we’re doing Vic’s renovations.”

  “It made sense. You guys are the best in the area. I never asked or expected Vic to hold grudges on my account.”

  “You never expected to be back here. You could have sold your land without ever stepping foot in Knights Bridge.”

  “That’s true. I wiped the dust of Knights Bridge off my feet when I left. Vic didn’t know your father fired me. I never told him, and I knew Jack wouldn’t. It doesn’t matter, Heather. Not after all this time. Vic helped me in countless ways, but he never called me to task the way your old man did. He said I had potential and was wasting it screwing around.”

  Heather smiled. “Sounds like Pop, except I bet he was more colorful.”

  “I needed a wake-up call. I needed to be held accountable in a way my parents couldn’t and Vic never would. Your father was right to dump my ass, but it was hard to see that at the time.”

  “Vic?”

  “He helped me figure out that I might make a place for myself in the Foreign Service, and I saw that I needed college to do it right. He and your father pointed me in the right direction, but it was up to me to take the steps I needed to take. I got my degree, and I became a DSS agent.”

  “And here you are, back where you started.”

  “My parents were never happy here, but they could have been on a beach in Fort Lauderdale and they wouldn’t have been happy at that time in their lives. Knights Bridge isn’t what made them miserable.”

  “You have nothing to prove to anyone here, Brody.”

  “Neither do you.”

  “To my brothers, you mean?” She grinned. “Damn straight.”

  He could see that her good humor didn’t reach those deep blue eyes of hers, but he heard his phone ding in his pocket. He knew what the message was, but he got out his phone and glanced at the screen, anyway. The message was typical Greg Rawlings.

  Be in Boston in six hours. Bring your toothbrush.

  In his years as a DSS agent, Brody had never had to leave a woman behind. He’d seen to it that was never a possibility. He’d kept an emotional distance that he’d told himself protected any woman who might think she was in love with him, but it also protected him.

  Now here was Heather Sloan, watching him with her eyes narrowed.

  He tucked a finger under her chin and tried to put the distance into place, but instead he kissed her. He didn’t give a damn who walked onto the porch. Vic, Rohan, one of her brothers.

  Finally, he stood back. “I have to go,” he whispered.

  She touched his cheek with her fingertips. “Be safe, Agent Hancock.” She smiled. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

  Nineteen

  Heather drove into town for a few errands and gave Brody enough time to get his things together and leave without her as a distraction. When she returned, he was gone. She had a brother who was a police officer and two brothers who were firefighters. They’d had close calls, but she’d known where they were, what they were doing. Would Brody be able to tell a wife more than he’d told her?

  She shook off the thought and got out of her truck as Vic arrived with Rohan. The puppy bounded to her, jumping, licking her hand. She laughed in spite of her raw emotions. “Hey, Rohan. I saw you just yesterday at Elly’s, remember?”

  “He’s excited to be back on his home turf,” Vic said, grinning as he joined her in the driveway. “He’s grown, hasn’t he? It’s barely been a week, but I swear he’s looking more dog than puppy.”

  “He’s beautiful.”

  Rohan leaped onto the remains of a snowbank and found a rock he’d left behind. As he settled down to chew it, Elly O’Dunn pulled her Subaru in behind Vic’s car and got out, her red hair—dyed at this point in her life—brightening the gray light. “I knew he’d be happy to be back here,” she said, obviously delighted. “He missed you, Vic.”

  “He’s Adrienne’s dog. I said I’d see to him, but I shouldn’t get attached.”

  “You already are attached, and he needs a master. Adrienne pretended to abandon him because she knew you would take him in and provide him a good home. I did what I could, but it’s up to you to train him. You can’t keep spoiling him.”

  “Spoiling him? How do I spoil him?”

  “Let me count the ways,” Elly said with an incredulous laugh. She turned to Heather. “Where’s Brody? I thought I’d say hi. I haven’t seen him since he left town all those years ago.”

  “He had to leave,” Heather said, surprised at the catch in her voice. “Something came up with his work.”

  “Nothing good, I’m sure.” Elly reached down and patted Rohan. “I’m glad we have men and women who can do the work he does. They keep people like Vic safe so they can do their jobs.”

  “They’re indispensable,” Vic said. “Brody’s one of the best.”

  Elly stood straight. “Being called away at the last minute—”

  “He’ll be home before we know it.” Vic didn’t sound as confident as Heather suspected he meant to. He turned to her. “How was the meeting of the Sloans? You all are going to be able to juggle the McCaffrey job with this one?”

  “Absolutely,” Heather said, relieved at the change in subject.

  “The girls and I thought we’d see a wrecking crew out here before you ever got around to renovations, Vic,” Elly said. “It’ll be wonderful having this place fixed up. Did I hear you’re adding a sauna?”

  “I am, indeed. I
added it at the last minute, but our Heather here didn’t bat an eye.”

  Elly laughed. “Don’t forget your neighbors when it’s up and running.”

  “Adrienne...” Vic knelt down and snapped a leash on Rohan. “She hasn’t returned any of my calls or emails.”

  Heather wasn’t surprised when saw that Elly knew that Vic’s house sitter had turned out to be his daughter. He’d have told her. Elly was like that—people told her things. She watched Rohan heel next to Vic. “What a good dog,” Elly said. “Vic...you have to be patient with Adrienne. I can understand her reluctance to talk to you right now. She’s embarrassed, Vic, and she’s confused. She needs time.”

  “She must wish she left well enough alone and never contacted me.”

  Heather had never seen him look so pained, so at a loss. “Vic...”

  Elly didn’t seem to notice Vic’s mood, or wasn’t indulging it if she did. “Adrienne can’t unring that particular bell, can she? Neither can you. She has to decide what to do with what she knows, and how she handled it.” Elly leveled her turquoise eyes on her neighbor of twenty years. “Leave her alone, Vic. Give her the time she needs, and live with whatever she decides.” She smiled, heading for her car. “Ambassador O’Dunn speaks.”

  “You’d have made a damn good Foreign Service officer,” Vic called to her.

  “It’s raising four daughters—not to mention a whole bunch of goats.” She paused at her car, her expression softening. “You know where to find me if you need help with Rohan.” She gave an exaggerated shiver. “I miss Southern California already.”

  Vic watched her climb in behind the wheel, pull the door shut and start down the driveway with a wave. He sighed at Heather. “Elly’s a dynamo. Doesn’t mince words. She and Brody’s mother were friends, before Patrick O’Dunn died and before the Hancocks divorced. I don’t think they’ve stayed in touch. Sometimes...” He inhaled deeply. “Sometimes you have to wonder at the twists and turns in life.”

  Heather smiled. “I know the feeling.”

  “Ah, yes. I’m sure you do.”

  * * *

  Heather arrived at Maggie and Brandon’s “gingerbread” house off the town common in time for what her sister-in-law was calling Mediterranean night. She pointed at the array of foods on her kitchen counter one by one. “Here we have grilled eggplant with lemon juice, spinach with coriander, hummus, three kinds of olives, tabouleh, stuffed grape leaves and sundried tomatoes. You invited Vic and Brody, didn’t you? You got my message?”