Harmony Cabins

by Regina Hart

  Audra’s eyes widened. “It’s a wonderful bookstore. I can understand why it’s so popular.”

  Megan grinned. “Thank you. What do you do?”

  Audra tensed. “I’m a musician.”

  Darius leaned forward. “What instrument do you play?”

  Ramona lowered her coffee mug. “You should talk with Vaughn Brooks. He’s Trinity Falls University’s band director.”

  Doreen reappeared with Audra’s breakfast. “I doubt Penny wants to talk shop on her vacation.”

  Audra sighed with relief—for both the food and the interruption. She hated lying to these nice people.

  Megan crossed her arms. “The books Jack ordered came in. Would you mind taking them to him when you return to the rental cabins?”

  “No, not at all.” Audra sipped her coffee.

  Megan nodded. “Thank you.”

  Doreen topped off Audra’s coffee. “How long will you be with us?”

  “About a month.” Audra bit into the wheat toast. The bread tasted homemade. “Delicious.”

  Doreen flushed with pleasure.

  “A month?” Ramona’s eyebrows rose. “That’s some vacation.”

  “Ramona, are you prying into someone else’s personal life?” Another tall, dark, and handsome stranger materialized.

  Ramona gasped. “Hardly. That’s Darius’s job.”

  The new arrival walked to the counter and leaned forward. Megan met him halfway. They exchanged a quick kiss over the salt-and-pepper shakers, sugar packets, and napkin holders.

  He then stepped behind the counter to kiss Doreen’s cheek. “Hi, Mom.”

  Doreen cupped his jaw. “Would you like some breakfast?”

  He shook his head. “Just coffee, please. I’ve already eaten.”

  Was she watching a Saturday-morning tradition? The camaraderie among these friends was so natural. They were more like an extended family. In contrast, the people in Los Angeles she considered friends were more like well-acquainted strangers. Was this what small-town living was like? If so, she envied them.

  Megan took Ean’s hand as he started past her and nodded toward Audra. “Ean Fever, this is Penny Lane.”

  Ean shook her hand. “Welcome to Trinity Falls. I’m glad Jack’s finally renting out his cabins.”

  Audra frowned. “Jack? Do you mean the desk clerk?”

  Doreen laughed. “And handyman, janitor, and whatever else. Jack owns Harmony Cabins.”

  Audra’s jaw dropped. “I thought he was an employee.”

  Quincy shook his head. “We shouldn’t be surprised that Jack didn’t introduce himself.”

  “He probably didn’t see a reason to.” Megan poured herself a mug of coffee.

  “That’s no excuse.” Ramona turned to Audra. “He didn’t tell you who he is?”

  Audra frowned. “He just said his name was Jack.”

  Quincy put his hand on Ramona’s shoulder. “Ramona, Jack probably didn’t want to make a big deal about it.”

  Ean sat on the other side of Quincy. “It’s not like Jack to call attention to himself.”

  “In what way?” Audra’s curiosity had ballooned.

  “You have to tell her now.” Darius shook his head. “You’ve made it worse by bringing it up.”

  Ramona grinned like the cat that swallowed the canary. “Jack is Jackson Elijah Sansbury.” She paused, drawing out the suspense. “He’s the great-great-grandson and sole descendent of Trinity Falls’ founding family.”

  Audra nearly choked on her coffee. The man she’d thought of as the rental cabins’ front-desk clerk was actually a member of the town’s founding family?

  “Wow.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Who was knocking on his private cabin’s front door? Jack pushed himself from his armchair. He tossed the book he’d been reading onto the coffee table and padded barefoot across his great room.

  He eased his frustration by yanking open his front door. Then he froze. His cabin guest stood on his porch. She wore the same green top and orange capris from this morning. He missed the trash bag.

  Her presence on his property was putting him through a range of emotions he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in almost two years. Amusement when she’d strutted to his registration counter, wearing nothing but a garbage bag; surprise at finding her standing on his porch; and, judging by the stirring in his shorts, desire at the sight of her.

  “Yes?” The copper doorknob bore into Jack’s palm.

  She offered him a Books & Bakery plastic bag. “Megan McCloud asked me to give these to you. They’re the books you ordered.”

  “Thanks.” Jack took the heavy package from her. He didn’t mean to look at her shapely calves, rounded hips, trim waist, and full breasts. It just happened. He swallowed. “Anything else?”

  “Am I the only guest here?” She folded her arms under her chest, drawing his attention back to her cleavage.

  Jack’s palm slipped on the doorknob. “Yes.”

  He shouldn’t have agreed to let Benita’s friend stay here. She had to leave. Something about her was having an effect on everything in him.

  Audra’s gaze drifted from him to the lawn beyond his porch. “I hadn’t realized the cabins would be so isolated.”

  He clung to the doorknob. “They are.”

  She returned her attention to him. “You really aren’t much of a talker.”

  Why did she keep saying that? What did she want from him? Jack’s attention was drawn to her ebony hair and its explosion of curls. He’d bet the cabins they’d feel like warm silk between his fingers. His grip tightened on the doorknob.

  Audra continued. “Have you ever gone fishing?”

  Jack gave himself a mental shake. What had she asked him? Something about fishing? “Yes.”

  Her expression brightened. “I’ve never been. Could you teach me?”

  “No.” The word shot from his lips with the desperation of a man trying to keep himself afloat on turbulent waters.

  The light in her champagne eyes dimmed. “I’d really like to learn. I don’t spend much time outside the city. Actually, I don’t spend any time outside the city. I’d like to take advantage of this opportunity. You know, to go fishing, hiking, sailing. But I need someone to show me how.”

  “No.” He couldn’t spend that much time alone with her. She was a danger to his way of living. He’d cut himself off from people and caring. Caring hurt.

  “Why not?” The disappointment in her catlike eyes almost persuaded him to change his mind.

  Jack was stoic. “Is there anything else?”

  Audra searched his eyes. She seemed about to say something. Jack braced himself against her appeal.

  “No, thank you.” She turned and walked away.

  He closed the door, working his numbed hand from its knob. Why can’t people leave me alone?

  In his younger years—before his wife and daughter—he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to get to know a beautiful woman. But his circumstances had changed. Now he didn’t want to get close to anyone ever again. He’d been hurt before. Badly. He didn’t want to go through that again. But his cabin guest was drawing him like the proverbial moth to a very seductive flame. How close could he get before he caught fire?

  “What name did you pick?” The clicking of Benita’s computer keyboard accompanied her voice down the airwaves to Audra’s cell phone. It was Saturday evening and Benita was still working.

  “Penny Lane.” Audra leaned forward to rest her guitar on the oak coffee table in front of her.

  Silence descended. Even the constant click of Benita’s keyboard hung suspended. Had she lost the call?

  “‘Penny Lane’?” Benita’s voice was thick with disdain. “Was that the best you could do?”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “The residents of Trinity Falls aren’t stupid.” Benita exhaled a heavy breath.

  Audra imagined her manager ripping her fingers through her short, straight hair. “I never said they were.”
She rose from the sofa, offended. “If you think you could have come up with a better name, you should have.”

  “Do I have to do everything?” The clicking sound returned, louder. “I found the resort. I made the reservations. I paid for the cabin in advance—”

  “With my money.”

  “Do I also have to come up with the cover story?”

  Audra gripped the cell phone with her left hand and planted her right fist on her hip. “Why do I even need a cover story?”

  Benita sighed again. “Because when they learn you’re a celebrity, everyone in Trinity Falls—population fifteen hundred—will follow you around town.”

  “No one knows the songwriters, Benita. They’re all about the singers.” Audra wandered from the dark plaid sofa to the front window. “Besides, even if Jack knew my real name, I doubt he’d care.”

  “Just make sure you don’t fall in love with him.”

  “With Jack?” Audra called an image of the grumpy cabin owner to mind.

  “He was one of the handsomest guys in high school.” A printer whirred to life in Benita’s office. “That’s really saying something. In my day, Heritage High was full of cute guys.”

  Audra frowned, trying to imagine what Jack looked like under his layers of fur. “He must have fallen on hard times.”

  Benita’s hum was noncommittal. “You’re not out there to rescue anyone, either.”

  “What are you talking about?” Audra turned away from the window.

  “You know you’re always trying to help people.” Papers shuffled. A stapler snapped. “That’s how Wendell was able to get over on you.”

  “I don’t want to talk about Wendell.” Or his five months of treachery. Audra paced past her sofa—and bitter memories of the way Wendell had used her.

  “Then just concentrate on those three songs so you can come home.”

  “Good-bye, Benita.” Audra disconnected the call and tossed her cell phone on the sofa.

  “Just concentrate on those three songs.” Her manager made it sound so easy. But Audra had never had such a hard time with her songwriting. She shoved her hands into the front pockets of her shorts and wondered about someone else who was having a hard time.

  What happened to Jack to transform him from a high-school heartthrob to Sasquatch?

  “I have three top priorities that I want to address during my first term as mayor—strengthening education, repairing infrastructure, and improving emergency services.” Doreen Fever trembled with excitement as she shared her plans with her boyfriend, Leonard George.

  They sat at her dining room table after preparing dinner together in her cozy kitchen. She’d made the spaghetti and meat sauce. He’d made the salad.

  Leonard drizzled more Italian dressing onto the half-eaten bowl of vegetables. “Don’t you think you should wait until you’re elected before you start making plans on what you’re going to do?”

  Doreen gave Leonard a sharp look. The lack of enthusiasm in his voice puzzled her. What could be wrong? “I’m running unopposed.”

  “But you aren’t in office yet.” Leonard continued eating his salad.

  “I can’t wait until I’m in office to figure out which issues I want to tackle first.” Doreen forked up some lettuce. “I have to hit the ground running.”

  “I’m glad you know what you want to do when you’re in office. But do we have to talk about that tonight?”

  Doreen paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Not if you don’t want to.”

  “All you ever talk about now is what you’re going to do or planning to do as mayor of Trinity Falls.” Leonard’s voice was laden with exasperation. “I know you’re excited, but can’t we talk about something else for just this one night?”

  She was speechless. Had she been talking too much about her plans? “I hadn’t realized I was monopolizing our conversations.”

  “You are.” Leonard stabbed several vegetables with his salad fork. “There are other things in our relationship that we could talk about.”

  “Like what?”

  “Anything else.”

  Doreen swallowed a sigh. He wasn’t making this easy. “Name something and we’ll talk about it.”

  Leonard chewed and swallowed a mouthful of vegetables. “You could ask me about my day.”

  Doreen dropped her fork. “I did while we were cooking. I thought I’d cheer you up with a more positive topic.”

  “I may not have anything good to say about the math class I’m teaching this summer, but I don’t want to talk politics, either.” Leonard finished his salad and moved on to his spaghetti.

  How is he able to argue and eat at the same time? Doreen toyed with her salad for a long, tense silence before shoving it aside. “You know what you don’t want to talk about, but you can’t tell me what you do want to discuss.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Can you hear how annoying that is?”

  “No.” He looked puzzled.

  Doreen played with her spaghetti. “When you figure out what you want to talk about, let me know.” She shoved a forkful of pasta into her mouth and chewed. The food settled like barbells in her stomach.

  “I don’t understand why you’re upset.” Leonard continued after a tense silence. He’d already cleaned half of his plate. “How would you feel if I talked about my work all the time?”

  “You do.” Doreen lowered her fork. Is he kidding?

  “No, I don’t.”

  Arguing the point wouldn’t get her anywhere. “Are you still opposed to my being mayor?”

  “It’s your decision.” He avoided her eyes.

  Doreen sighed. “In other words, yes.”

  “You know how I feel about you, Dorie.” He lowered his knife and fork, and his voice. “I want to marry you. I don’t want to talk about education, infrastructure, or emergency services. I don’t even want to talk about teaching math or coaching football. I want to talk about building a life with you. What are we going to do this weekend? Where are we going on vacation over Christmas break?”

  Emotion lodged in her throat. Doreen swallowed it. “I care about you, Leo.”

  “But you care more for the memory of your dead husband. It’s been almost a year and a half, Dorie.”

  “When I lost Paul, my whole world changed.”

  He reached his right arm across the table. His fingers were just short of touching her hand. “I’m not looking to replace him. I’d just like a bigger role in your life.”

  She cared for Leonard. But did she love him? She wasn’t sure. She did know she didn’t want to lose him. But neither did she want to lose herself—which she feared would be possible with Leonard.

  “You have all that I can give for now. Is it enough?” Doreen held her breath.

  Leonard sat back on his chair, allowing his arm to draw back to the edge of the table. “For now.”

  His tongue may have spoken the words she wanted to hear, but his eyes carried an ultimatum that chilled her heart.

  It was 12:27 A.M. Audra was tired, but she wasn’t at all sleepy. Damn it!

  She sat on the top step of her cabin’s oak porch. Because of her morning jog, she didn’t fear an encounter with wildlife any longer. Her body was still on California time, believing it was only 9:27 P.M. But then it should also think she’d been up since four in the morning. She tugged on her hair and squeezed her eyes shut. Sleep already!

  All of the light from the cabin’s great room poured through the open door behind her, relieving some of the night’s oppressive blackness. She glared at the notebook in her fists. An entire page of crossed-out lyrics scowled back at her.

  She’d been in Trinity Falls two solid days. She still had writer’s block. She still had insomnia. This was stupid. She should drive to the airport right now—without taking the time to change out of her nightgown and robe—and wait for a flight to Los Angeles International Airport. Only desperation to meet her three-song contract by August 4 kept her from giving up on Benita’s stupid
plan to go into self-exile.

  Damn it. Audra exhaled. She had to relax if she was to get any sleep tonight. She lifted her gaze to the sky. Good grief! The heavens were blanketed with stars. She’d no idea there were so many of them. Beautiful. She inhaled a long, calming breath and drew in the smell of pines, earth, and fresh air so different from the city. The crickets were rather chatty. Would she be able to sleep with all that noi—

  Her eyes widened. Her spine stiffened. Was that rustling? Was it coming from the bushes? What was causing it? The wind? A bear? A coyote? What was that other animal her mother had listed? Oh, my God!

  Her heartbeat outpaced her thoughts. In her mind, she saw herself racing into the cabin and bolting the door behind her. In reality, her body wouldn’t move. She was fossilized with fear. Oh, my God! Audra strained again to listen. If it was a bear, would it chase her if she ran? How fast did bears move? Should she lie on the stairs and pretend to be dead?

  “Hello, Ms. Lane.” Jack stepped from the bushes and entered the pool of light spilling from her cabin.

  “Oh, my God.” Audra pressed her hand to her chest. Her voice shook with residual terror. She was as breathless as though she’d run a forty-yard dash in less than three minutes. “You scared the crap out of me.”

  “Sorry.” He slipped his hands into the front pockets of his baggy brown shorts. His muscles rippled under his short-sleeved forest green T-shirt.

  “I thought you were a bear.” Audra struggled to catch her breath.

  “I’m not.”

  With anyone else, Audra would have thought he was trying to be funny. But Jack didn’t appear to have a sense of humor. He didn’t appear to be very talkative, either. His conversation was so sparse it bordered on nonexistent.

  She gave him a suspicious look just in case. “Are there bears or other wild animals nearby?”

  “Not usually.”

  That is hardly reassuring.

  Audra grasped the neckline of her robe. Her gaze darted to the shadowed outline of the trees behind him before narrowing on his face—or what she could see of it hidden between his unkempt hair and overgrown beard. “Why were you skulking in the bushes?”