Spring Fling Kitty: The Hart Family (Have A Hart Book 3)

by Rachelle Ayala

  “Why is that?” Nadine realized she wasn’t the only person in the world with problems. “Does he not get along with them?”

  “Can’t you tell? We’re like fire and water. He’s quiet, and I’m a busy bee. He’s seen things he doesn’t want to talk about—most firemen have, and I have to respect his privacy.”

  “If you’re married, aren’t you supposed to share everything?”

  “Ideally, yes.” Cait’s eyebrows knit as if she were recalling something painful. “Except sometimes, it’s better not to pry.”

  “You think I should leave Connor alone?” Nadine heard the hurt in Cait’s voice, but she didn’t know her well enough to inquire further.

  “Yes and no.” Cait seemed to perk back up now that the topic was her brother. “Connor hates being helpless, especially if he thinks he can’t fix your problems. Right now, he’s burned and blistered, and he probably doesn’t want you to see how bad it is.”

  “That makes sense. He doesn’t want me to help the nurses change his dressings, but I’ve read the pamphlets. They encourage family members to be on hand to learn how to do it so when he comes home, they can help.”

  “Stop right there.” Cait raised her hand. “That’s not Connor. When he comes home, he’ll change his own dressings and do his own baths and showers even if it kills him.”

  “But his hands are burned.”

  “Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t even want my mother to touch him,” Cait said. “Besides, I’m guessing there are certain places he doesn’t want anyone to see.”

  “I know. He let me help when they were doing his chest and stomach, but when they asked him to go to the toilet, he told me to go away.” Nadine threw her hands up and clutched her head, shaking it. “I was such an idiot, insisting I should watch and learn. Of course he wouldn’t want me to see him down there until he’s healed.”

  “Exactly.” Cait gripped her arm and turned her so they faced each other. “He’s trying to protect you, but then, I’m sure he misses you and depends on you to be there for him. Maybe you should go, but not during dressing and cleaning. Just sit with him and talk, or not talk. He needs you.”

  “I need him, too.” Nadine blinked back tears. “I would never, ever turn my back on him. I was only afraid he didn’t want me anymore.”

  “Don’t be silly. With Connor, the more he pushes you away, the more he really wants you. It’s when he appears to give you what you want that you have problems.”

  Nadine immediately tuned into the nuance of what Cait was saying. “How’s that different from actually giving me what I want, and not just appearing to?”

  “It’s the smoothness. I knew he wasn’t truly into Elaine, no matter what he said, because he agreed with her too easily and went along with her plots. He didn’t mean to be disloyal or end up dumping her. He just wasn’t into her enough to fight her, and then you came along. Kaboomie! His star fell out of her orbit and wrapped itself around you. I’m not excusing it or anything, but Elaine was plain wrong for him—and now we know exactly how wrong she was.”

  “I still can’t believe she’d try to kill us.”

  “Well, believe it.” Cait’s green eyes glinted in the light of the setting sun. “I didn’t want to say anything back at the house, but Brian says Elaine marched into the fire station the night of the fire and took Cinder back.”

  “Took Cinder? How’d she do that?”

  “No one dared challenge her, and Brian wasn’t there. The probies said she had an official document from the kennel she purchased Cinder from, and that she was taking back her dog. Connor doesn’t know yet.”

  “Wait, what time was it when she took the dog? This could be important, because it means she was in the neighborhood and could have set the fire.”

  “Exactly. That’s what I’m thinking too.” Cait huddled with Nadine as the fog descended and obscured the purplish glow tinting the western sky. “We’re going to nail her to the wall like a butterfly in a collector’s case.”

  “If she set the fire, she deserves to pay.” Nadine looked at her watch. Visiting hours were over, and she couldn’t bother Connor about Elaine until she had real proof. Otherwise, he’d think she was being jealous and vindictive. It might be better for her to repair their relationship first before setting off on a witch hunt.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Hey.” Connor heard his wife’s voice behind him, but he kept his face turned toward the wall. Nadine was late today, and she’d skipped the evening before. At least the nurses had him clean and bandaged this morning and he was set for the day.

  He closed his eyes and waited. Maybe she’d believe he was asleep and leave.

  He heard the scrape of a chair, and then her hand was on the back of his shoulder blade, rubbing it. That felt good, but brought tears to his eyes. He couldn’t take affection from her and not give her anything in return. And right now, teetering between the burning pain on his front side, and the calming coolness of his back, he wasn’t in any mood for small talk.

  The hand circled gently over his uninjured shoulder and even though it was painful to move, he turned slightly to his side. Now both hands were on him, one moving up and down his spine and the other one caressing the knot beneath his neck. He let out a tired breath and relaxed into the curving rhythm of her hands—her artist’s hands, brushing him with caring strokes, filling this dreary day with dancing colors, and flooding him with sensations other than the constant nagging pain he was in.

  Still, she was silent. Was she angry at him? She had a right to be. Angry or not, she cared for him. She continued to caress him, and his soul drank it up like water to parched lips.

  Then he remembered. She’d never needed to talk for him to know and feel her love. She didn’t even need to look at him, or to make meaningful faces or clumsy gestures.

  Her tender touch and the air she breathed, the space they shared, the silent electricity that raised the hairs on his neck, the dreams behind her eyelids, and the poems behind her lips—they said more than words ever could.

  He raised a bandaged hand and let her wipe her cheek against it. “I’m sorry, Deeny. I’m glad you’re here.”

  Her reply was the press of her lips against the back of his neck—soft and lingering—a slow, drawn-out kiss which draped over his wounds like the mint-cool mist rising off the foggy banks of the sea.

  He struggled to sit up, despite the screaming of his burns. He wanted to hold her and touch her, but his hands were encased in bandages and his chest and belly throbbed with angry blisters.

  “Connor, it’s okay. Don’t move.” She slid onto the bed sideways, her arm supporting his back. “I’m here.”

  “So am I.” He closed his eyes, imagining her lips on his, cold, refreshing, healing balm, and two hawks soaring together on wind currents high and free from the scarred and burnt sands of his destroyed flesh.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “There’s got to be a clue somewhere,” Cait said, as she and Nadine picked through the charred remains of the Hart family home. “If this were a detective story, Elaine would have dropped something, like a piece of jewelry, or maybe her hair got caught on a nail when she climbed the fence to get into the backyard.”

  “Or she could conveniently drop her name badge or car keys,” Nadine said. “By the way, where does her car say she was? She has some fancy electronic system on her car that can remote lock, disable ignition, as well as report location in case the car was stolen.”

  “Right. But we’d have to get a search warrant to access those records.” Cait poked through a pile of rubble. “Mom and Dad found some of the family silver. But now that I think about it, the fire Jenna started last February was a blessing in disguise because they moved a lot of things to storage to allow for the reconstruction.”

  “Did the neighbor’s video cameras turn up anything?” Nadine pointed to the houses across the street.

  “Dad’s not saying anything, so I suspect something’s there. But you know how the poli
ce are. They won’t say anything because they don’t want to spook the criminal.”

  “They’re just going to let Elaine gallivant around town with Cinder and go on like nothing happened?” Nadine couldn’t stand hanging around the blackened bones of Connor’s house a moment longer, but at the same time, she couldn’t keep from staring. “That’s where the garage opened into the kitchen, or at least I think it is.”

  She stepped over blackened bricks and moved around the gray husks of the washer and dryer. Soot and ashes covered everything, and twisted metal lay mangled in her path. The metal parts of tools: hammer heads, screwdriver shanks, wrenches and cutter blades were scattered across the floor of what was the garage.

  “Here is where I put the metal can,” Nadine said. The spot was empty because the fire investigators had taken it as evidence.

  “It’s hard to tell now where everything was,” Cait said. “Especially after neighborhood kids came tramping in here to collect souvenirs.”

  “I wish there was some evidence to tell us who set the fire,” Nadine said, kicking aside charred rubble. Something bright caught her eye. It was covered with soot, but sparkled when the sunlight caught it. “Hey, look at this.”

  She bent over and picked it up. “Is this a diamond?”

  “You’re kidding me!” Cait came to her side and peered at it. “You found Elaine’s engagement ring?”

  “Actually, there’s no ring attached.” Nadine turned it over. It was encased in a metal setting and had a loop dangling over it.

  “Necklace then,” Cait said. “This might be important. We should take a picture where you found it and call the detective."

  A moment later, Cait said, “He’s on his way. He and his partner were in the area canvassing the neighbors to see if they saw anyone suspicious that night.”

  “Good. I’ll keep looking for clues.” On the one hand, Nadine felt vindicated that she hadn’t caused the fire, but a more chilling thought rattled her. How could her own sister try to kill her?

  While Cait took charge with the detectives, Nadine retired to the background and wandered around the lot, picturing all the happy times Connor and his family had had here. The barbecue grill was still standing, not surprising, and the metallic rims and legs of the outdoor furniture lounged like ghostly reminders of parties and cookouts gone by.

  “Meow,” a tiny voice squeaked behind her.

  “Greyheart?” Nadine’s pulse jumped and she turned toward the sound.

  Greyheart limped through the ashes, dragging his rear leg. His fur was matted and spikey, and one ear was missing.

  Nadine swept him into her arms, and ran toward Cait and the investigators. “Greyheart needs help. He’s burned and he’s been out here for days. That was the diamond or rhinestone from his collar. It means he was in the garage when the fire started. I was right. Someone must have put him in there.”

  “We have to get him to a vet,” Cait said. “Elaine must have taken Greyheart all the way from Reno and planted him here. There’s no way the cat could have traveled here on his own. That means someone started the fire.”

  “Hold it,” one of the men said. “Two weeks is plenty of time for the cat to come home from Reno. He could have hitched a ride.”

  “You don’t get it,” Cait said. “This isn’t Greyheart’s home. He’s never been here before.”

  “Let’s get him to a vet, instead of arguing.” Nadine cuddled the tiny bundle, who was so weak, he barely moved. “You really were here, sweetie. Connor saved your life when he opened that door.”

  “Mom, you won’t believe who I found.” Nadine burst into their apartment after visiting the vet. The little cat would be fine despite having part of his right ear burned off. He also had blisters on his paws and a singed coat, but nothing that couldn’t be cured by tender, loving care.

  “Oh my, it’s Greyheart.” Mom rose from the sofa she was sitting on. “Where’d you find him?”

  Nadine stopped short and stared at her father who straightened his glasses and pressed his hand over his comb-over hair. What had they been doing? Making out?

  “Dad? What are you doing here?” Nadine narrowed her eyes at her parents, who looked as guilty as teenagers caught with their hands in their pants.

  “Nadine, it’s good to see you again,” her father said. “You almost gave me another heart attack when I heard about the fire at Connor’s house.”

  “The last time I spoke to you, you disowned me.” Nadine wasn’t fooled by his false concern one bit. “That was right before Elaine had me arrested. You didn’t even stick up for me. Instead, you corroborated her story.”

  “I didn’t know she was lying.” Her father remained seated. A pained look crossed his face and he put his hand on his chest.

  “Gerald, are you okay?” Mom went to his side. “Is it your heart?”

  Ugh. Her mother was such a doormat. When would she ever learn?

  “Does Emmeline know you’re here?” Nadine asked her father. She was being nasty, but then, it’d been nasty of her father to displace them for Emmeline’s mother. If he hadn’t been in such a hurry to move Nadine’s things out, the Hart family home would still be standing and Connor wouldn’t be hurt.

  “I’m no longer seeing Emmeline,” her father said. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  He gave her that stern father-knows-best glare, as if fooling around with women who weren’t wives qualified him to scold her, the resulting love child.

  “Deeny, be nice to your dad,” Mom entreated. “He’s still recovering from his heart attack. Come here and show us Greyheart. What happened to him? Why does he have those bandages on him?”

  “He was burned in the fire.” Nadine held onto her cat. “The fire Elaine started.”

  Both of her parents gasped and stared at her with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

  “Elaine started the fire?” her mother said at the same time her father exclaimed, “Elaine didn’t start any fire.”

  “How do you know she didn’t?” Nadine plopped herself on the ottoman in front of the sofa. “She could have had the key to the Harts’ house. She hates me and Connor, and she was in the area when she picked up Cinder from the fire station.”

  “I don’t believe it.” Her father shook his head so hard the loose skin under his jaw wobbled. “Elaine would never commit such a heinous crime. She told me she’s forgiven you already. In fact, when she heard about the fire, she was so distraught, she choked on her tea and burned her tongue.”

  “Oh, I’m supposed to feel so sorry for her. She burned her tongue. You know how much of Connor’s body is burned?” Nadine put the cat on the sofa before standing tall to make her point, wiping her hand from her face down to her upper thighs. “He’s been in the burn ward suffering while she’s going around getting people like you to feel sorry for her and think she’s such a wonderful person for forgiving us.”

  “Deeny,” Mom cut in, placing her hand on her arm. “You can’t just go around accusing your sister without evidence.”

  “We found evidence today,” Nadine said. “Greyheart. He was wandering around the ruins of the house, and get this. His rhinestone was found in the garage. That means someone put him in the garage before the fire started. When Connor opened the door leading to the garage, it was Greyheart who rushed out.”

  “Oh, you poor little thing.” Mom picked up the kitty.

  “That still doesn’t prove Elaine did it,” her father said. “Besides, if it did, why isn’t she arrested yet?”

  “But Gerald,” Mom cut in. “What was Elaine doing the night of the fire?”

  “She was with me. I think we went out to dinner or something.” Nadine’s father crossed his arms and blew out his breath. “I can’t believe you two would jump to conclusions against my daughter.”

  “I’m your daughter, too.” Nadine waved her hands in front of his face. “Don’t you care that I could have died? Oh, I forgot, you disowned me on my wedding day.”

  “I was angry at t
he time. Emmeline had been talking to me about disowning you or threatening to disown you so you’d get a job and not think you can mooch off me the rest of your life.”

  “Emmeline? She’s giving you advice about your own children?” Nadine’s mother stared at her father as if he’d grown two heads. “What does Emmeline know about children? If anything, she wants you to toss away everyone you love so she can have you to herself.”

  “I saw through her.” Nadine’s father huffed. “I’m no longer dating her anymore. When I suffered my heart attack, gasping for air, and your mother was there to help me, all I heard from Emmeline was a giggle as she elbowed Michael and said, ‘looks like you might get your wish.’”

  “What a callous thing to say,” Mom exclaimed.

  “Wish for what, Dad? What was Michael wishing for?” Nadine couldn’t believe how conniving her brother and sister were.

  “He says Emmeline was stirring the pot, trying to get him disowned,” her father replied.

  “Seems like a lot of disowning around here.” Mom rubbed her father’s back. “They all want a piece of you. Did you ever wonder if you’d become an artist whether everyone would be after you like you’re some kind of mother lode of gold to be exploited?”

  “Of course they would,” her father said with a sparkle in his eye. “I’d be a famous artist, and you’d be the only one who gets a piece of me.”

  Ugh. Nadine rolled her eyes. Her parents were flirting again. Utterly disgusting.

  “Mom, you shouldn’t settle for a piece when you should get the whole enchilada.” She picked up her cat and stalked to her old room, now empty and devoid of her belongings. Exhausted and drained, she plopped onto the bed she’d slept in since she was a tiny girl. So many nights she’d wished her father would stay. So many days she’d waited for him to come see her. All because her mother never believed in herself enough to show her father the door.

  “Nadine.” Her father shuffled into her room, followed by her mother. He cleared his throat and sat at the edge of her bed.