by Sheryl Lynn
Max crossed his arms and glared at a spot high on a wall. “I believe I should like to contact my attorney now.”
FRANKIE SHOOK HANDS with her attorney. “Thank you, Mr. Oswald. You must be pretty persuasive in order to get the district attorney on my side.” She covered a yawn with her hand, then flashed him an apologetic smile. Half expecting the cops to claim they’d released her by mistake, she glanced at the elevator they’d ridden to this level of the parking garage. “I can’t believe they let me go. I’m really free.”
“Justice prevails. But I can’t take the credit.” He looked beyond her and smiled. “Mr. McKennon mounted the campaign. He convinced the ADA to look into the phone records and your back-up disks.”
Frankie turned around. McKennon walked toward her. His footsteps barely made any noise despite the tendency of concrete walls to magnify every sound. Garbed in black, broad-shouldered and impressive, he was to her the most beautiful man ever to walk the earth. He shook hands with the attorney, who then made his farewells.
“How are you doing?” McKennon asked.
She hunched inside the Frankenstein coat. The sun shone today, but inside the garage the temperature was icy. For the first time in days she felt warm on the inside. “Jail sucked. Being out is great. What about you?”
“Hungry as a bear. Can I buy you dinner?”
She’d eaten only oatmeal and baloney sandwiches while in jail. Her belly growled. She lowered her gaze. “I should buy you dinner. I owe you.”
He removed his sunglasses. His eyes were bright and warm. “No debt. Call it a labor of love.”
Surprised and wary, she peered at him from the corner of her eye. Somehow, someway, in the midst of all the fear, anger, despair, guilt and excitement, another emotion had sneaked its way into her heart. She didn’t dare call it love. Not yet, anyway.
Or did she? J. T. McKennon was everything a man was supposed to be. Loyal, strong, responsible and determined—not to mention those gorgeous green eyes and soulsearing, heart-melting kisses. She couldn’t discount the fact that he’d seen her at her very worst and he still cared. She suddenly wanted him to see her at her very best, as well.
Car tires squeaked on the concrete. A sleek, black Lexus drove into view. As it drew near she recognized Ross behind the wheel. He lowered the window and flashed a sunny grin. “Hey, Cuz. How’s the jailbird?”
She leaned over to kiss him and saw Penny in the car. Subdued, the girl fiddled with a sparkling diamond ring. Her soft blond hair fell over her face. Frankie’s belly constricted. They hadn’t talked since that awful night on the plains.
She gestured for Ross to roll down the passenger’s side window, and she walked around the car. Penny refused to look her way. “How are you doing, sweetie?”
“Okay.”
“I hear you’re going to be a mommy. Did the doctors—”
“I’m not pregnant.” She turned her head enough for Frankie to see one baleful blue eye. “I—I lied.”
Anger crept over Frankie’s scalp. She glanced at McKennon. Arms crossed, sunglasses in place, he leaned his back against a post. “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?” she asked her sister.
“We have nothing to talk about.” Penny resumed fiddling with the gaudy wedding ring. It was much too large for her slim hand.
Frankie bit her inner cheek to keep from snapping out a retort. Penny is an adult, she reminded herself. She’s in shock, grieving and needs some space. She noticed Ross lift an eyebrow. He must be expecting a major explosion. She drew in a deep breath. “Okay.”
Penny’s eyes widened. A rush of color pinked her cheeks. “I want you to leave me alone! I didn’t want to go to that stupid college. I loved Julius, but you hated him because you can’t stand anyone else loving me! You were just plain jealous because he paid attention to me. Now he’s dead!” Fat tears rolled down her cheeks.
Ross placed a hand on Penny’s shoulder, but she shrugged away.
“You know it’s true, Ross! She’s a bully. She smothers me to death, and she pushes me around and she treats me like a little kid. Not everybody is perfect like you, Frankie!”
Anger encircled Frankie’s throat. She wanted nothing more than to drag the little ingrate out of the car and shake her. Except...maybe she’d spent so long being the perfect mother substitute for Penny that she’d lost sight of Penny as a person.
“You hang on to everything,” Penny continued, her voice ragged with tears. “That stupid old coat and those ugly boots you’ve had since high school. Me! You never let anything go! Well, I’m going, and you can’t stop me.”
Frankie stepped away from the car. She looked again to McKennon. His impassive face revealed nothing of what he felt. Because of him she could be strong right now. She shoved down fearful reactions and forcibly remembered how great a love she felt for her sister.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “You’re right. I’m too controlling and I treat you like a kid instead of an adult. I don’t listen too well either. I am so very sorry.”
Penny’s mouth compressed into a suspicious frown.
Ross leaned over. “She’ll be staying with Mom and Dad for a while. She’ll be fine at the resort.”
“Of course she’ll be fine. You’ll be okay, Penny. I have faith in you.” She stopped before assuring Penny she’d call or visit Her baby sister wanted space, and Frankie intended to respect her wish—even if it killed her. “I’ll see you guys later.”
Hands in her pockets, head down, she waited until Ross drove away.
“She’ll come around,” McKennon said.
“Maybe.” She managed a weak smile. “It’s hard letting go. But she’s safe. That’s all that matters, right?”
“Right. So how about dinner? You promised me a date.”
She glanced down at her shabby self. What she really wanted was about three hours in a blistering-hot shower to wash away the jail stink. “Can we make it later? I want to go home.”
McKennon drove her home. Her heart throbbed in silent agony. If Penny decided to sever their relationship completely and forever, could Frankie live with it? She didn’t see where she had a choice. At her apartment complex she opened the car door then paused. Without looking at him she asked, “What you said about a labor of love. Do you say that to all the girls?”
“Only to you.”
She smiled. “You really do know the right things to say. Call me. I know you have my number.”
She spent the next few days cooped up inside her apartment. Gray weather matched her gray mood. She slumped around in sweatpants and ate cereal straight from the box and refused to pick up her mail. The only bright spots were when McKennon called. He didn’t pressure her, and she was appreciative. He seemed to understand she needed time to reassess her life. She missed him horribly. She woke up one morning missing him so much she hurt inside. She glowered at her gloomy apartment and glared at her gloomy reflection in a mirror, and felt not self-pity, but self-disgust.
She called Ross and asked him if he had any job leads. He worked as a consultant for dozens of corporations and knew everybody who was anybody in the corporate world. He called her back within an hour to tell her he’d set up an interview for her. She should have called him months ago.
She tackled the mess in her apartment. The cops had trashed the place. She spent hours putting everything back in order. She hung pictures on the walls and unpacked knickknacks to arrange on shelves. It was too cold to open windows and air out the place. She mixed up a batch of brownies so their aroma would drive away the staleness.
She found thread and a needle to repair the damage Bo Moran had done to the Frankenstein coat. As she held the faded, much-mended parka on her lap she paused. Penny was right. She held on to things long past the point when holding on made sense.
She stuffed the coat in a garbage bag, then tossed in her rotten old boots for good measure. They had holes in the soles and were splitting at the seams. She marched downstairs to the trash container and tossed th
e bag inside. A twinge of genuine pain distressed her, but she made herself run back to her apartment before she could change her mind.
McKennon called. “I have good news.”
“Save it,” she replied. “I made a batch of triple-fudge brownies. And if I don’t say so myself, they’re to die for. Come on over. I’ll put on some coffee for you.”
Excited by the prospect of seeing him again, she primped and preened. She sorted through every piece of clothing she owned before deciding on a royal-blue cotton sweater with a scooped neckline. She smoothed her hair into a sexy twist and darkened her lashes with mascara.
She met him at the door. For a long moment she filled her soul with the sight of his dark good looks and incredible body. No matter what happened between them, she would never stop thinking he was the sexiest man alive.
“May I come in?” he asked.
She stepped aside. He looked around at her apartment and made an approving noise. “I’ve missed you,” she said.
“Good.” He stopped in the middle of the room and cocked his head as if listening. “Where’s your cat?”
“He deserted me, too.” She harrumphed. “An old guy who lives downstairs let Cat move in. Cat likes it better down there. Darned animal pretends he’s never seen me before.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She shrugged. “You never really own a cat, anyway. They’re just roommates who don’t pay rent.” The scent of hot brownies did a great job of making the apartment smell good. She imagined she could smell McKennon, too. A stirring deep in her midsection caused weakness to flicker through her knees. “So what’s your good news?”
He leaned his forearms on the counter. “I got a job.”
“That’s wonderful. Another security job?”
“Better. A guy is opening two martial arts studios. He hired me to manage them. His name is Daniel Tucker. Sense of humor, easy-going. Not overly concerned with cash flow. Should be interesting to work for.”
She set a cup of coffee and a plate of brownies in front of him. “Good money?”
“Good enough. Plus I can pick up extra cash teaching classes. He’s looking for an office administrator. You’re good with details. Interested?”
“Maybe. Could you stand working with me again?”
He smiled. He had a gorgeous smile. “On one condition. You date me instead of the boss.”
She arched her eyebrows flirtatiously. “Depends. How good-looking is he?”
His mouth dropped open. She laughed. A good laugh straight from the heart. Chuckling, he picked up a brownie and sank his teeth into it.
“Actually, I have a job interview on Monday. A national headhunting firm is looking for a handwriting analyst. I’ll let you know how it works out.”
“Okay. But now that I know you can bake, you definitely aren’t dating anyone except me.”
Her good humor faded. She picked at crumbs on the counter. “I’m pretty unstable right now. I’m lost without Penny to take care of. That’s all I know how to do. You deserve better than a flake like me.”
He shook his head in firm denial. “You’re not a flake. You’re a wild thing, and that’s what I like best about you.” An intense expression darkened his eyes. “That’s what I love about you.”
Her throat threatened to close. What did she know about love?
His telephone rang. Saved by the bell, she thought. Coward.
McKennon scowled at the Caller ID readout. “Excuse me.” He opened the phone and put it to his ear. “McKennon here.” He listened, nodding. His frown deepened. Finally he said, “Are you certain? No mistake?” He looked as if someone had punched him in the belly and he couldn’t breathe. He snapped the phone shut. “I have to go to the hospital.”
“Your son?” Alarm jangled in her skull.
He nodded. “Dr. Trafoya said he’s showing signs of waking up.”
“That’s wonderful!” In the face of his utter stillness her elation faded. Then it occurred to her; he was afraid. For four years his son had been lost. God only knew how many times his hopes had been dashed and his faith sorely tested. She gathered his hands in hers. He was cold.
“I saw him this morning. He looked the same.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
His brow twisted and he appeared suddenly young and uncertain. “I’d like that.”
McKennon said little on the drive to Carson Springs Hospital. Frankie respected his need for silence. She imagined he steeled himself for heartbreak if the doctor was wrong. As he parked the car she felt strange about accompanying him. His relationship with his son was intensely private. At the same time she felt humble and grateful he wanted her company. She offered her hand, and he grasped it like a drowning man.
Carson Springs looked more like a college campus than a hospital. Airy rooms, brightly colored walls and people talking and laughing. The presence of patients in wheelchairs revealed it for what it was.
In Jamie’s room Frankie hung back by the door. The room smelled of medications and disinfectants. It reminded her of her mother’s lingering death. In spite of her discomfort, the child on the bed compelled her attention. He was so tiny. A tow-headed waif with arms so thin they looked like sticks.
McKennon loomed over the bed. He stroked the boy’s cheek with a touch so gentle it made Frankie want to cry.
“Jamie? It’s Daddy, sweetheart. Can you hear me? Are you awake?”
A doctor in a white coat entered the room and Frankie moved out of his way. He flashed her an absent smile in passing. “Good afternoon, Mr. McKennon. Looks like we have a medical phenomenon in progress.”
“He isn’t awake.” His tone was accusatory.
“He’s sleeping. Just plain old sleeping.” The doctor pulled the covers away from Jamie’s legs. He picked up a tiny foot and tweaked the toes. Jamie’s foot flexed, and his head turned. “Wake up, kiddo. Don’t make your dad think I’m a liar.” He pinched the ball of Jamie’s foot then slapped it. “Do what you did before. Show your daddy what you can do.”
The boy turned his head from side to side. He made a raspy noise.
“Oh, my God,” McKennon breathed. Tears glimmered on his lower lids. He patted Jamie’s cheek and shook his shoulder. “It’s Daddy. I’m here. Do you hear me? Wake up now. Wake up.”
Drawn by the quiet drama, Frankie crept to McKennon’s side. The little boy opened hazel green eyes as bright as a bird’s. His mouth opened and closed, opened and closed.
“I know you can see me, boy. Are you Daddy’s good boy? Jamie, can you understand me? Jamie, are you awake? Jamie.”
Knowing she witnessed a miracle, Frankie slipped an arm around McKennon’s waist. She stared at his face, and joy filled her to know a man so true and loving. A man who understood the power of love and the power of hope. A ray of sunshine broke through the clouds and sparkled against the window. Golden light banded the boy’s face. He squinted and averted his face.
“Jamie,” McKennon breathed. Unabashed tears slipped down his cheeks. “Oh, sweetheart, I love you so much.”
And I love you, Frankie thought.
Little Jamie McKennon smiled.
“STOP THE WEDDING!”
Frankie gasped and her heart leaped into her throat. Her fingers tightened, and petals drifted from her bouquet to the floor. J.T. slipped a protective arm around her shoulders.
“Hold on a sec, okay?” Frankie said to the minister. Almost afraid she hallucinated, she turned around slowly.
Penny stood in the doorway to Sweet Pines Chapel. A breeze fluttered through her pale hair. Her blue eyes shimmered with tears. One by one members of the Duke family and Frankie’s and J.T.’s friends shifted on the pews to look at the girl.
Emotion filled Frankie’s throat, and she couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what to say. In the eight months since the kidnapping and the awful scene in the parking garage, not a single word had passed between her and Penny. Frankie knew Penny lived near downtown Colorado Springs where she sha
red a duplex with two other girls. She worked in a boutique. Every week Frankie mailed a chatty note to which Penny never replied. She’d sent a wedding invitation. She’d told no one, not even J.T., how much Penny’s refusal to acknowledge her marriage wounded her.
Penny blushed cherry-red.
From the pew where he sat upon Elise’s lap, Jamie hooted and waved an arm. He bounced impatiently. He couldn’t talk yet, but he knew how to break an awkward silence. Elise petted his hair and shushed him.
“I’m sorry, so sorry,” Penny said. She crept forward with her arms extended. “I blamed you and thought I hated you, but it wasn’t your fault. It’s all me. I’ve been such a brat. And I miss you so much. I don’t know if you can ever forgive me. I—I—please don’t get married without me, okay?”
Frankie gazed up at her handsome husband-to-be. By his side she’d found true love and purpose. Each moment she spent with him and Jamie was a glorious challenge and an opportunity for joy. His green eyes glowed with loving encouragement. He nodded every so slightly.
Elise nudged the Colonel and made him scoot over. She patted the bench beside her. “Come sit with me, dear.” Jamie bounced on her lap and waved frantically at a speaker mounted on the wall. He wanted music. Penny slipped into the pew.
Frankie found her voice. “No! Don’t sit down.”
Penny gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. Tears spilled in a torrent. A murmur of surprise rippled through the room.
Frankie indicated the spot next to her. “Stand here with me. I want you to be my maid of honor.” She shifted her smile to J.T. “Is that okay with you?”
“I’d be honored.”
Penny joined her before the minister. Frankie handed her the bouquet to hold. “I love you, sweetie. I’m so glad you’re here.” She faced the minister, and J.T. squeezed her hand. Her heart was full. “Now where were we? Something about how J.T. has to obey my every command, right?”
“Something like that,” J.T. said, and squeezed her hand again.
Elk River, Colorado
