by Brenda Novak
Lucky’s…Since when had he stopped thinking of it as his grandfather’s house?
“If you want to continue with the repairs, you can do it after we close escrow,” she said.
He swallowed hard. “But I haven’t made you an offer yet.”
“Make me one.”
“I’m not ready.” The thought of Lucky driving off with all her belongings in her blue Mustang made him feel hollow inside.
“Then you can mail it to me.”
“You’re going to let those two bullies chase you out of town?”
He’d hoped he could challenge her, appeal to her fighting spirit. Lord knew not many women possessed a stronger one. But she didn’t rise to the bait, which made him fear she was already completely committed.
She shook her head. “It’s not just Jon and Smalley. It’s your family and this town and—”
“And what?” As if that’s not enough… He had to keep her talking, get her to reconsider, at least until he could figure out how he felt and what he should do.
She didn’t answer right away. Crossing the kitchen, she came to stand before him, so close he thought she might slip her arms around his neck. She didn’t touch him, but he longed to touch her—to part the robe and find the warm skin buried beneath those layers of clothes, to reassure himself that she was really okay.
If only he didn’t feel too numb to move. He’d known she’d be leaving eventually. He’d been counting on it so his life could return to normal. But…
“I’m in love with you, Mike,” she said softly, her eyes wide and honest, “so in love that I can’t even ask you to love me back.”
Mike caught his breath. He always did his best to avoid such declarations. “I love you” put him in an uncomfortable position. He generally replied with a polite, “Thank you,” then proceeded to distance himself from the person in question—because he’d never felt strongly enough about a woman to become responsible for her future happiness or to risk his own. But he didn’t know how he felt right now, except that he didn’t want to say thank you or goodbye.
“What if I don’t want you to go?” he asked.
She gave him a sad smile. “I’d go anyway.”
MIKE STOOD AT THE WINDOW of the spare bedroom where Lucky was sleeping, the bedroom she’d used that first night, and stared out at the moon. Damn Smalley. If he and Jon hadn’t hurt Lucky tonight, she probably would’ve let things ride for another month or two. Somehow another month or two sounded much better than saying goodbye to her tomorrow.
She stirred on the bed and he glanced over, wondering if she could sense his presence, and his turmoil. He didn’t want her to leave Dundee. He didn’t even want her to leave his house. But he couldn’t ask her to stay. Not when he’d never been able to commit himself before, not when he couldn’t say with some assurance that he was in it for the long haul. His decision affected the happiness of too many people.
He rubbed his eyes. During these last weeks in Dundee, she’d been through enough. It would be kinder to let her move on and eventually meet and fall in love with someone else, someone who wasn’t connected to her past and who had a family that would embrace her and love her as she deserved. Better to let her settle in a town with no prejudices or animosity. She was so young; she deserved a younger man.
But her words—I’m in love with you, Mike—echoed in his brain over and over again, and tugged at his heart. He wished he could protect her, wished he could tell everyone, including his own family, that if they tried to hurt her in any way, they’d have to deal with him first.
Except he was afraid he’d be the one to hurt her in the end.
She moved again, and he realized she was having trouble sleeping. He told himself he should slip out, before she found him here. But if this was to be their last night together, he didn’t want to spend it in his own room.
Crossing to her, he sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed the hair from her face.
A second later, she blinked up at him.
“Hi,” he said.
“What is it?” she whispered.
He couldn’t say. He didn’t want to talk. He only wanted to feel, to touch her, one more time.
Lowering his mouth to hers, he kissed her gently, coaxing her to understand—and he knew she did when her fingers came up and slowly undid the buttons of his shirt.
LUCKY KNEW as she drifted off to sleep an hour later that something significant had happened. She felt it in the way Mike had moved, the way he’d touched her. She guessed he’d recognized the difference, too, simply because he’d been so somber. But when she opened her eyes the following morning, she knew last night hadn’t really changed anything. She’d come to Dundee with the childish hope of gaining a father. Instead she’d lost what was left of her heart—and her soul—to Mike Hill.
Rolling over, she reached for him. She wanted to discuss the details of selling him the house, recognized how difficult it would be to speak to him later. But he was gone.
She sat up—and it was then she heard voices coming from elsewhere in the house.
Lucky’s stomach tensed as she wondered if it might be Mike’s parents.
Getting up, she walked gingerly to the door. After doing her best to fight off Smalley and Jon last night, and being thrown around in the bed of that truck, her sore muscles complained at the slightest movement.
“They’re idiots.” Mike’s voice, filled with impatience, drifted back to her as she quietly opened the door. “Why would they file a police report after what they did to Lucky?”
“Because Dave’s furious. You messed Smalley’s face up pretty bad, Mike. I saw him when he came in, and I’m telling you he looks like he’s been in a damn train wreck.”
Lucky couldn’t place the second voice. She leaned out of the room to peer down the hall but could see only a portion of Mike’s long legs as he sat at the kitchen table. Whoever was with him seemed to be across from him, beyond her view.
“I don’t care how bad he looks,” Mike said. “They stripped Lucky down in freezing weather and tied her into the back of their truck. When I think about it, I regret that I didn’t break a few more bones. Jon got off too easy.”
“Careful,” the other person responded. “Violence isn’t going to get us anywhere. Does Lucky have any damage to show for what happened last night?”
“Damage?” Mike echoed.
“Bumps and bruises, that sort of thing?”
“I’m sure she’s got a few bumps and bruises from rolling around in the back of their truck. But that’s not the point, Orton. She could’ve caught pneumonia out there. Or worse.”
Mike had called his visitor Orton. Lucky tried to place the name and finally realized that this had to be Officer Orton. She’d met him once before, when he’d visited her high school class on some antidrug campaign. Did his presence at the ranch mean that Smalley and Jon had gone to the police?
“They claim they weren’t going to take it far enough for anyone to get hurt, and you don’t have proof that they would have.”
“You can’t kidnap a woman from her house, strip her and tie her into the bed of your truck, just for kicks!”
Orton’s voice was so low, Lucky had to listen carefully to catch his next words. “They say they didn’t kidnap her. They say she came with them willingly and that it was her idea to tie her up.”
“What?”
“Apparently, she’s into that bondage stuff. Stranger things have happened.”
“That’s bullshit!” Mike slammed his fist on the table. A moment later, he wasn’t sitting down anymore; he was pacing back and forth.
“Come on, Mike. You know what her mother was like, what her own reputation says about her. Everyone does.”
Closing her eyes, Lucky leaned her forehead against the wall. It always came back to Red. But that wasn’t the worst of it; by being here and involving Mike, Lucky was dragging him down with her.
“I can’t believe Jon and Smalley are really going to claim that.” Mike�
��s voice again. “Don’t they care about their wives?”
“Jon’s not married anymore.”
“And Smalley’s wife is so cowed he could say or do anything and she’d put up with it,” Mike added in obvious disgust.
“Lucky’s an attractive woman. Smalley and Jon went out for a little fun, and she jumped on the bandwagon. It’s certainly believable.”
Mike cursed several times. Lucky opened her eyes to see Orton come into view and reach out a placating hand. “Calm down, you’re overreacting.”
“I’m not overreacting. Smalley’s lying. Lucky would never do that.”
“How do you know?”
There was a big pause.
“Mike?”
He whipped around, wearing a determined expression, from what she could see. “Because the only person she’s ever slept with is me.”
Lucky smothered a gasp. Down the hall, this announcement met with an unnatural silence.
Finally, Orton seemed to rally from his shock. “Mike, I don’t have to tell you Lucky isn’t too popular in these parts. Are you sure you want to feud with the Smalls, just because you’re all sleeping with the same woman?”
“We’re not sleeping with the same woman. I’m telling you, Lucky didn’t go with them willingly.”
When he spoke again, Orton didn’t sound convinced, but his tone suggested he didn’t want to argue. “Well, I know this much. Your families are two of the oldest, most respected in the area. There’s never been a problem between you before, and I don’t see the point in causing one now.”
“I’m not causing this problem, Orton.”
“From what your mother’s told my wife about Lucky, I think your parents would rather not know you’ve had any contact with her. Your folks went through a lot of grief over Morris. Let them be done with Red and her kids. Don’t dredge up the past.”
“I can’t change what happened last night.”
“You can call Smalley and apologize. Put this thing to rest before it blows up in your face.”
“Like hell. Smalley had better be damn sure he stays away from Lucky in future.”
“If he presses charges, you could be in trouble,” Orton warned. “And he says he’s pressing charges. Jon’s a witness.”
“Let ’em try. Lucky and I will press charges, too.”
Lucky nearly groaned out loud. Lucky and I? He was linking them together.
“I’m telling you this is going to turn into a mess, Mike. Do you really want to go that far?”
“I’ll go as far as I have to. I won’t let them twist last night into something it’s not.”
Lucky bit her lip. She wanted Mike to drop it. She was leaving town and she wasn’t ever coming back. It didn’t really matter whether the people of Dundee believed she’d had some sort of kinky sexual escapade with the insufferable Smalls, as long as they still thought well of Mike. But now that he’d told Orton about them, it was bound to get back to his family and cause even more trouble.
“You could’ve called me,” Orton said. “You didn’t have to punch Smalley.”
When Mike responded, he sounded tired but resigned. “Yeah, I did.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
WHEN OFFICER ORTON LEFT, Mike turned to find Lucky standing at the entrance to the kitchen.
“We had a visitor this morning,” he said.
“I heard.”
He leaned against the counter and shoved his hands in his pockets, wondering how she handled the outrage. He’d been intimately involved in her life for only a short time, and the injustice she faced in Dundee was already driving him mad. To think he used to believe the same thing everyone else did…“So what’s your take?”
“I wouldn’t sleep with Smalley and his brother if they were the last men on earth.”
That much he knew. And he’d be damned if he’d stand back, as Orton obviously wanted him to do, and let Smalley and Jon blame Lucky.
“Smalley’s taking a pretty big chance,” he said.
“How’s that?”
“You said he didn’t get what he wanted last night.”
“He didn’t.”
“Then, we could show your mother’s journal to everyone in town, which is exactly what he was trying to avoid.”
She tightened the belt of the robe she was wearing. “Actually, we can’t.”
“Why not?”
“There’re two other men named in that journal who could also be my father.”
More trouble. Mike could feel it coming. He was reluctant to ask, but he did anyway. “Who?”
“A guy by the name of Eugene Thompson.”
He almost allowed himself a sigh of relief. “Never heard of him.”
“I’m pretty sure you’ll know the next guy.”
The unease was back. “And he is…”
“Do you really want to know?”
Was the truth that bad? “Tell me.”
“Garth Holbrook.”
Mike’s jaw dropped. He’d been prepared for a shock, but Senator Holbrook? Besides his own father, Holbrook’s name was the last one he’d expected to hear. Holbrook was a solid citizen, a good legislator, a real family man. Holbrook was his best friend’s father. “There must be some mistake.”
Lucky shook her head. “No, his affair with my mother lasted about two months. There’s no mistake.”
“But…” Suddenly, Mike understood the call he’d received from Holbrook the day before Christmas.
Any chance she might sell out and move away?…What if I were to sweeten the pot by a couple hundred thousand?
Evidently, Holbrook was worried about more than Gabe.
“Gabe worships his father,” he said.
Lucky seemed to understand that he was talking to himself more than her and didn’t respond.
“This will devastate him.” It would devastate anyone, Mike thought. Holbrook had cheated on his wife, on his whole family. Gabe and Reenie could have a half sister! They’d feel hurt, angry, betrayed. They’d be humiliated when the whole town found out that their father wasn’t as unsullied as everyone had always believed. The scandal could ruin Garth’s marriage and his career. The ramifications seemed to go on and on.
No wonder Garth wanted Lucky to move away.
Mike pictured Gabe, already angry and bitter, forcing his chair over the thick pile of the carpet. “We’ve got to burn that journal,” he said. “Right away.”
Lucky didn’t argue. But when they hurried over to the Victorian, they found the whole place ransacked.
The journal was gone.
LUCKY STOOD with Mike on the small cement pad outside Jon Small’s trailer—he’d clearly lost more than his wife in the divorce—waiting for someone to answer the door. It was difficult to believe that only a few hours earlier, she’d been planning to leave town today. If not for the disappearance of her mother’s journal, she’d already be on the road. But now that proof of the past had fallen into the wrong hands, she had a terrible feeling that all hell was about to break loose. Leaving now would feel too much like running away, and Lucky was finished running.
Jon finally cracked the door open and peered out at them. “What do you want?”
“To talk to Dave,” Mike said.
“He’s not here.”
“We just spoke to your mother. She said he was.”
Jon shook his head in apparent disgust that his mother had been so forthcoming with this information, but if Liz Small felt any resentment toward Mike, she sure hadn’t shown it when they were at her house. Before they left, Mike had told her he’d apologize for hitting Smalley, except that Smalley had deserved it, and she’d said she knew Mike wouldn’t have done it otherwise.
Too bad Jon and Smalley weren’t more like their mother….
Leaving the door ajar, Jon went into the house, presumably to get his father.
“You have some nerve coming here,” Dave said as soon as he appeared.
The subtle change in Mike’s stance told Lucky he considered Dave a more
worthy adversary than Jon or Smalley. She supposed it was the power of Dave’s will that caused this reaction. He was used to being in charge and having a say in what happened around him. Plus, Dave was the only one of the Small men who had half a brain.
“We’re here for the journal,” Mike said.
Dave had obviously been too busy glaring at Lucky to pay much attention to Mike’s words, because they seemed to come as a real surprise. “What did you say?”
“Give us the journal.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. What journal? Is that what she had on me?”
Confused, Lucky glanced at Mike. She supposed Dave could be playing games with them, but he sounded genuine to her.
“Jon and Smalley didn’t go back to my place last night?” she said.
Dave’s jaw was set in an angry line. “Jon and Smalley went to the hospital in Boise. Then, in case you haven’t heard, they went to the police.”
“Not a smart move if you want us to keep our mouths shut,” Mike pointed out.
“I figure you’re not going to keep your mouths shut anyway. Better to do what I can.”
“Let’s go,” Mike said to Lucky and walked away.
Lucky remained. She could almost see Dave’s mind working, trying to figure out a better way to position himself in light of this new information.
“I hope you’re not my father,” she said, “because if you are, I’d be too ashamed to claim you.” She looked him up and down, just to let him know what a pathetic excuse for a man she thought he was, then followed Mike to the truck.
“If you don’t have the journal and we don’t have the journal, who does?” he called after her.
Lucky didn’t answer.
“What are you going to do? Will you and Mike let this go and keep your mouths shut? Can we count on that, at least?”
Hesitating as she reached the SUV, she turned back. “Drop the charges, Dave.”
“If I do, will you keep your mouths shut?”
“Just drop the charges,” she said and climbed in.
