After her short chat with her mom, she knew there was more to the divorce than she’d believed. Jake had suggested that, but she ignored him. But she’d let it go until Dad was ready.
“I’m sorry about the farmhouse.” In spite of her sore throat and chest, she couldn’t seem to stop. “I nearly had the repairs done except for the plumbing. Jake repaired the banisters. They’re gone. The house is gone. Everything’s gone. Granddad would—”
He shushed her and kissed her forehead. “It was just a house. Granddad would be proud of you as much as I am. I phoned your mother. She’s on her way home.”
She settled back against the pillows again and mopped her eyes. Again. “How did you know to come?”
“Nora phoned my office and informed me what’s been going on.” He eased onto the bed’s edge and affected a stern expression. “More than you told me, I might add.”
She shrugged off the reprimand. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“It doesn’t matter now. I see you’re going to be all right. And Gail’s murderer has at last been punished.” He rubbed his nape. “All those years between you and me wasted.”
Her heart turned over at his genuine remorse and she had to swallow past the hot lump in her raw throat. “If you want to help, I have an idea. Can you get me out of here?”
“Honey, I’d like to, but don’t you think—”
“Just can’t stay out of trouble, can you, Ms. Cameron?” A smiling Dr. Laurenz strode into the room, a stethoscope stuffed in his shirt pocket. Baseball bats frolicked across his necktie.
Lani sank back on the pillows. “Why whatever do you mean, Doctor?”
*****
“Didn’t know you had talent at carpentry, Wescott.” Holt Donovan’s blue gaze perused the bungalow’s exposed studs and wiring, the rolls of insulation. The smell of new maple boards mingled with the dusty scent of sawdust.
“Some talent at demolition,” Jake said, “but none at carpentry. My brother and some other guys helped out earlier today. The rest of this job is waiting for somebody who knows how to swing a hammer. I got a few calls in.” He trailed to the fridge and got both of them a beer.
“Thanks.” Donovan accepted the brew. He sank onto a sawhorse and tipped back his Broncos cap. A brawny man taller than Jake, he looked like he belonged on his Colorado ranch instead of wrangling smugglers in New England.
He withdrew a spiral notepad from his shirt pocket. “Speaking of calls, I got one just now. At dawn, agents took down a compound in Massachusetts and a warehouse outside Portland. Arrested about twelve bad guys, all illegals. Confiscated drugs, crates of weapons. The arrest of David Brandon set us up to end El Águila’s entire northeast operation. You did good here.”
“Thanks. If Lani Cameron’s return to town hadn’t threatened Meagher so he sicced Hector Vargas on her, we might still be chasing our tails.” And Lani wouldn’t have nearly been burned to death.
“Maybe. You sound like a foghorn, Wescott. Better take it easy. Boss says you’re to take a couple more weeks off to heal.”
“I’ll get work squared away on this house and then I’ll be back at work. I got no reason to stick around here anymore.” Except for Ma, and he’d drive up on weekends to see her.
“We’ll need you. Boston’s short handed. Two task-force guys already went to California to round up El Águila himself. I’m leaving tomorrow. They need another agent who speaks Mexican Spanish.”
After the other man left, Jake wandered the empty room with his half-finished beer. He touched an index finger to the age-darkened studs. Modern wallboard would alter the character of the old bungalow, but a guy had to move on. Out with the old, in with the new.
Or was he thinking of himself?
“You’re a damn fool, Wescott.” He downed the rest of the beer. He ought to be happy, celebrating his success. Lani had survived all J.T.’s plots and schemes. But it was no thanks to him. He’d led her right into Vargas and J.T.’s trap. A hell of a Fed he was. He nearly got her killed. She’ll be better off without me.
He stared at the expanse of bare wall—colorless and empty as he felt. He peeled off his shirt—one with buttons because a pullover hurt his burned back like hell—and grabbed the broom. He couldn’t do much work, but he could sweep up the sawdust the guys had left.
The doc had let him leave the hospital only if he promised to return for the nurse to change the dressing on his burned shoulder and to remove the stitches on his jaw. He was hoarse but hadn’t sucked down as much smoke as Lani, who didn’t cover her nose and mouth. After visiting Ma in the nursing home, he returned to his grandmother’s with some supplies—sleeping bag, clothes, food—and found Hank and a crew of drop-ins hard at work finishing the essentials so he could camp out in the house.
One drop-in was Steve Quimby, who confessed his alibi the night of the fire had been his gay lover, who was now his life partner. He was still in the closet. ABC was a conservative family company.
After announcing he and his wife were separated, probably getting divorced, Hank left. Jake wanted to console his brother but couldn’t find the words. Could only pound him on the back and say he’d be there for him and Zack.
“Lani’s good for you,” Hank said. “What are you going to do about that?”
Jake avoided the question. What he was going to do was leave her alone. In the midst of the fire, she’d snapped out of her fog enough to bean J.T. and escape with him. She’d saved him, for God’s sake.
Even Ma asked about her. “Where’s the noisy girl?” When he said she’d gone away, Ma shook her head vehemently. No. She wouldn’t leave you,” Ma had insisted.
But I left her. The words fissured his heart. His hands grew clammy. He set down the bottle and wiped his palms on his jeans. Rubbed his sternum. Shit, he shouldn’t have left the hospital without seeing her. Her belief everyone deserted her had left her defensive and alone. And he’d proved her right.
Coward. I’m a fucking coward. The squeak of the door yanked him from his funk.
When he recognized the footsteps on the new floorboards, his heart revved to third gear. Her face was drawn and pale from her ordeal. His chest grew too tight to breathe.
Chapter 28
Lani nearly turned and ran when she saw the shock on Jake’s face. She’d argued with herself since learning he left the hospital. He’d defended her and tried to stop Vargas and J.T. and paid with searing pain.
“I won’t leave you. You have to trust me.”
He meant what he said—to get her moving—but did he mean more? Could he have meant more?
His jaw was purple and the gauze bandage gave him a rakish air. Stripped to the waistband of new jeans, torso glistening with the sweat of his labor, he looked so strong and handsome she could barely restrain herself from rushing over to throw herself at his chest. But she had words to get off hers first. Don’t wimp out now. Offense, remember?
She cocked her head. “Wescott, I never knew you were a coward. You slunk out of the hospital and came here to hide in your cave.” Talking didn’t hurt as much now but the croak did detract from her snarky act.
His mouth twitched as if he might grin but then he schooled his expression into that wary mask he’d discarded. It twisted her insides to see his defenses up. Against her.
He propped his left foot on a sawhorse, leaned an elbow on his knee and scratched his ear. “And I never knew you could do such a good Kathleen Turner imitation.”
Hell, if he wanted to dance around the elephant in the room, she could do that. For now. But he didn’t deny the cowardice accusation. She’d get back to that. “You have a little Eastwood thing going for you. Or else you’ve been secretly smoking a pack a day. How’re the burns?”
“Sting enough to remind me not to lean against the wall. I’ll live. You okay?”
She nodded. She took another step closer and clasped her hands behind her so he wouldn’t see them shaking. “I see your Cherokee survived the fire.”
“Only some
heat damage to the paint.” He ambled away from the wallboard he’d been installing and toward her. At first she thought he was going to get her off the hook and take her in his arms. But he planted his feet more than a foot away and kept his hands at his sides.
Then she remembered the plastic grocery bag. She held it up. “I have Greek pasta salad and pork chops to cook on the grill. One of your granddad’s old buddies offered me four lobsters right off his boat for free, but—”
“You remembered my aversion.” His bemused expression at her babbling morphed into an unguarded smile. “Thank you.” He took the bag of groceries from her and strode to the kitchen to stow them. He turned to her with a determined look. Her pulse leaped into next week.
He handed her a beer and opened one for himself. “You come here to drop off food or can you stay and eat with me? I can put these on the grill now.”
She tore her gaze from him so he wouldn’t see how desperately eager she was. “Definitely. I mean, I can stay. Thanks.” Grateful for the distraction and the soothing coldness in her throat, she hovered in the kitchen doorway.
New maple strips replaced the last of the holes in the floor, which was cleared of the old lath and plaster. And he’d installed a new sink and faucet in the kitchen. The house smelled of new wood and fresh air, not moldy and dank.
“You’ve come a long way in a day. What happened here? Elves?”
“Close.” He unwrapped the chops and collected a paper plate, then led the way through the back porch and into the yard, where a gas grill awaited. “My brother and some friends. And Kevin’s sister sent over a work crew to finish the demolition and the floors.”
Lani chose one of the plastic deck chairs nearby while Jake started the grill.
“I can’t imagine how bad J.T.’s family must feel,” she said. “Now that Vargas is in the slammer, the town needs a new harbormaster. Maybe you could apply for that job.” If he stayed, maybe she could. She set the beer down and popped the knuckles on her right hand.
Using his thumbnail to pick at the beer label, he shook his head. “Nailing bad guys is my calling, not haranguing spoiled teenagers who speed in the harbor. Funny thing though. ABC delivered a bunch of wood flooring. Steve said it was donated anonymously. You wouldn’t know anything about that?”
Lani felt her cheeks heat. “I think my dad took care of that. He wanted to atone for all his neglect. Since I don’t have a house to fix up anymore, you were elected for his largesse.”
“The one who really needs to atone will have eons of time for that where he went. But I appreciate your dad’s generosity.” He took the next chair, scooted close enough to smell his honest sweat, masculine and salty. When he reached over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she wanted to jump into his lap. “So he’s really Dad again?”
“He came to the hospital to see me. He’s going to handle the land trust deal, and he thinks I can get a better price for the property without a drafty old house. Even if it had new locks.”
He grinned, tugged on that lock of hair. “Won’t there be insurance money?”
“Eventually. We talked for the first time in a long time. You were right about the divorce. He and Mom were having problems anyway, and he couldn’t deal with Gail’s abortion and her emotional implosion. The fire just exacerbated their differences.”
“I’m guessing he felt helpless.”
She nodded. “Then he blamed himself for the fire killing her and burning me. He felt if he’d been able to help her, she wouldn’t have gotten in too deep with—well, at the time, he thought it was you.”
“He’s human. I hope you straightened him out like you’ve done your fix on me.”
Seeing his gaze soften and heat, she longed to lean into his caress. But she had her apology to say first. “I want to atone too. I accused you of being a coward.”
“You were right. I didn’t know what to say. How to say it, but I’ll say it now.” His features seemed to darken with pain. “I failed you. I let those bastards grab us. You almost died. I should’ve known they’d sabotage the boat. I did a damned lousy job of—”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “Just stop the recriminations, Wescott. What happened wasn’t your fault. It was J.T. It was the smuggling gang. I’m alive. We’re alive.” Tears slipped down her cheeks and she let them come, ordering herself to be soft and not defensive.
“Yes, ma’am.” He touched a finger to her wet cheek. “I didn’t know if you’d ever let yourself cry.”
She wanted to step into his arms, let it all go. She managed a wobbly smile. “The dam burst. It was time.”
“Past time.”
Stiffening her shoulders, she launched into her speech. “The fire. It made me remember. Everything. I saw J.T. that night but only through the flames. He was the towering fire monster in my dreams, but I couldn’t have identified him in a line-up. I called for help and he ran away. But I heard you say you wouldn’t leave me, that I could trust you. Was that just about the fire?”
His blue eyes seemed to laser into her soul. “I meant that and more. Much more. I didn’t know the truth of it until the words were out. I love you, Lani.”
Those words swept through her, dizzying her. She was a mess, and that low voice vibrating with intensity nearly undid her. But she forced herself to continue. “I never want to hear you say you can’t be trusted to protect anyone. You saved me.”
“I know better than to argue with you, but we saved each other.”
“The smoke, the flames, they paralyzed me. I couldn’t move. Until I saw the flaming ceiling collapse. Until I saw the man I love on fire.”
“You love me.” He breathed it like a prayer. “Enough to trust me to stay?”
She eased closer, placed her hands on his chest. “You and I have been tested by fire a second time.”
“All these years alone I’m not sure I know how to love.” Then he grinned, deflating her incipient panic. “You’ll have to zing me when I screw up.”
“That’s a given.” She swatted him on the biceps. “You have to know I’m not easy. Not high maintenance, like diamonds or designer shoes, but guys tell me I’m too much work.”
“Nothing I don’t already know. One of the things about you that intrigue me. You challenge me, honey, and I do love that mouth, whether you’re zinging me or turning me on. You like control but so do I. And I know how to get around you.”
His arms came around her and she yielded happily as he pulled her to her feet. She smiled, pressing her cheek against his chest. She sighed as he gathered her in and tipped up her chin with a finger.
“Lani, what I felt for your sister was more lust than love.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Shush, but I do. I want you to never wonder again if I compare you two. Gail was flash and smoke, but there was nothing to hold onto. You’re flame, warm and steady and enduring. A genuine woman with humor and honesty. I want to keep you in my arms if you’ll let me.”
Tears flowed again. Tears of joy. “You’ve thought a lot about this. Us.”
“Since I knew I had feelings for you. Wanted to know what I felt was real. And I had some things to work through.”
“Oh, Jake, I accused you of cowardice, but you’re not. I’m the emotional coward, have been for years. Not trusting anyone. Not letting anyone in.”
“No, you’re the bravest person I know. The barn fire was a defining moment for both of us, but neither of us let it be a dead end. And now we can move ahead together.”
She touched a finger gingerly to the bandage on his cheek. “You’ll have a new scar.”
“Makes us a matching pair.” He swiped a tear from the corner of her eye with his index finger. “The ATF sends me into danger. I work rotten hours and deal with slime.”
She grabbed his finger and kissed it. “After this, piece of cake.”
He crushed her to him but when their lips met, it was the sweetest kiss imaginable. If hadn’t been holding on so tight, she’d have s
lithered into a puddle at his feet. The two of them had survived a past that devastated her entire family and turned both their lives upside down. Coming through the fire a second time annealed them into stronger fiber, made tougher still because they would face the future together.
She smiled at him through her tears. “The Amy Jo is gone. The farmhouse is gone. I have no place to stay. Don’t suppose you have room for me in this house?”
“If you don’t mind camping gear. The bedroom upstairs has a couple of sleeping bags we can put together.” His expression turned serious. “But not for long. I have to return to Boston as soon as I get a crew started finishing the house. My place is north of Boston, but forty-five minutes from Concord is still too far from you.”
“I’ve kinda gotten used to waking up with you in the morning. I’ll bet some school district nearby can use a special ed teacher.”
“I can’t offer you much,” he said against her cheek. “Only my love.”
“That’s all I want.”
Before their lips could meet again, wings flapped and fluttered behind Jake. She peered around him to see a great black-backed seagull perched beside the chops.
“Hey, you thief! Get away from there! Shoo!” Waving her hands, she rushed at the big black-and-white scavenger.
Looking offended, the gull swooped into the air, its beak empty.
“Of all the damn nerve!”
Laughing, Jake swung her around. He planted another kiss on her mouth.
“What?”
*****
TO PURCHASE
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DON’T MISS THESE OTHER TASK FORCE EAGLE BOOKS
BOOK 1 - NEVER SURRENDER (short novel)
When charming DEA Agent Ricardo Cruz, has a lead in Maine to the cartel that killed his brother, his vanished suspect’s loyal sister, Juliana Paris, refuses to cooperate. Threats force her to accept Rick’s protection, and their search leads them into deadly danger and each other’s arms.
Once Burned (Task Force Eagle) Page 24
