Lost Innocence

by Jannine Gallant

  “I want to take swimming lessons. How many days would I get to go to camp, Daddy?”

  His daughter dominated the conversation for the rest of the meal, which was fine with Teague. Nina was getting married shortly, so even if he was ready to start dating again—and that was a big if—she wasn’t available. Best not to even think about the soft curve of her cheek, let alone her other curves. The last thing she’d want was her new neighbor gawking at her every time they crossed paths.

  “Daddy.”

  “Huh?” He jerked out of his thoughts when Keely jiggled his arm. “What?”

  “Nina said she needs to go, and your knees are blocking us in.”

  He rose to his feet as his face heated. “Sorry, I was trying to figure out the best way to tackle this mess.”

  Nina stood, then glanced around. “My suggestion would be from the top down. You can’t very well organize this room until you get everything out of it.”

  “Good idea. Also, the upstairs needs less work. The kitchen and living area will be a war zone for a while once I start remodeling this place.”

  “You plan to do the job yourself?”

  “Most of it. I paid my way through college working construction.”

  She stepped around him. “Well, you certainly have plenty to keep you busy. To my knowledge, the previous owner hadn’t done any work on this house in decades.”

  “Which was why I could afford this place. Anyway, I’m looking forward to the project.” He followed her as she headed toward the door. “Thanks again for the terrific meal. Do you want to take your Crock-Pot home with you?”

  “You can keep the leftovers and return it later.”

  “I appreciate that. Nina?”

  She stopped with her hand on the doorknob. “Yes?”

  “You’ve made Keely and me feel welcome in a strange new place, and that means a lot. If I can ever help you out with anything at all, just let me know.”

  Those amazing eyes darkened before she smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind. Have a good night, Teague.”

  “You, too.” He stepped out onto the porch and walked to the railing to better observe the sway of her fabulous ass as she crossed the yard. A couple of the boards creaked and groaned as he shifted, bringing him back to reality. Replacing them was another job to put on his to-do list. Not until her front door shut with a click that echoed in the night did he finally go back inside to face the unpacking job awaiting him.

  * * *

  She stared in disbelief at the winning numbers displayed across the TV screen. Surely it was some sort of mistake . . . or maybe she was seeing things. She blinked twice, but her special numbers were still there, bold and taunting. 7-1-75-6-30-5. The date her baby was born, and the horrible day nearly five years later when she thought she’d lost her forever. But she hadn’t. Lynette had come back to her. Again and again and again.

  Of all the times to lose her damn ticket. Fate couldn’t be so cruel.

  She’d bought sandwiches to eat on the beach, along with the lottery ticket, at the convenience store late that morning. She’d stuffed her change and the ticket into her coat pocket before hurrying outside and hadn’t thought about it again until after they’d returned home.

  Hell and damnation, she needed that money. Over three million dollars. With such a huge windfall, she wouldn’t have to worry about financial security ever again. There’d be no reason to risk leaving Lynette home alone.

  She pictured herself on the beach, poking through tide pools to discover an unbroken clamshell. She’d dropped it into her pocket and glanced up when a woman ran past, a tank top plastered to her back with sweat. Had the ticket blown out when she’d reached into her pocket? She’d recognized the jogger on her return trip up the beach. She’d been pretty sure the artist hadn’t noticed her, only Lynette wading in the surf. Nina Hutton had bent to pick something up off the ground, then shoved it into her pocket and run on.

  Could it have been the lottery ticket?

  The mantel clock ticked loudly in the silent room. Maybe the woman wouldn’t check her numbers right away. It was possible she wouldn’t even realize what she’d found. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides, fingers stiff. There was still hope she could recover the ticket, but she wouldn’t risk asking for it straight out and drawing attention to herself.

  Waiting for Nina to leave her house before searching for her rightful property was a far better plan. She’d find the ticket, collect her winnings anonymously, and then she and Lynette could continue with their lives.

  Or move on to the next one.

  Chapter Four

  Nina tossed the load of laundry in the washer, shut the lid, then hurried into the kitchen when her phone rang for the third time. The landline, not her cell. Odd. With a shrug, she answered. “Hello.”

  Nothing. Apparently the caller had hung up before the answering machine clicked on.

  It was likely just a robocall—probably best since she didn’t have time for a conversation, anyway. The sun had finally broken through the marine layer, and she needed to hustle out to the bluff before the fog rolled back in. With any luck, she could still paint for a couple of hours in decent light.

  Fifteen minutes later, she’d loaded her paints and easel into the passenger seat of her Mini. A tight squeeze, but she had the angle down just right. With the window open, the breeze blew short wisps of hair around her face as she headed into town, then drove north along the coast. A giant cypress stood sentinel on a point accessed by a dirt track off the main road. She’d started on the project several weeks before but hadn’t had time to finish the painting.

  After setting up her work area, she painted with quick, sure strokes, capturing the magnificence of the ancient tree alone on the precipice with waves crashing in the background. Lost in her art, she painted until the fog crept in to blur the stark lines of branches and trunk. Disappointed, she packed up to leave.

  She’d have to include the final touches another day. Normally, time wasn’t an issue, but as the Summer Art Fair approached, every day was critical if she wanted to complete another half dozen pictures to sell. The fair always provided a healthy boost to her income in addition to spreading her reputation among West Coast art enthusiasts who attended the annual event. After stowing her gear, she turned the car in a circle, bumped back down the track, then accelerated onto the highway. As she approached Leah’s driveway, on a whim she slowed and turned down the gravel track to stop behind the used Volkswagen Bug her friend had bought after her old car was totaled.

  She’d barely had a chance to climb out when Barney raced around the corner and leaped up to plant dirty paws on her chest. “Down, boy. No, don’t jump on me. Where’s your mama, huh?”

  “I’m back here!” A shout came from the far side of the carport.

  With the big mutt frisking along at her side, Nina headed toward the garden.

  Leah waved from between two rows of peas. “Hey, want to help me pick these? You can have some for dinner since I seem to have an overabundance all of a sudden.”

  “Sure.” Her sandals sank into the earth as she joined her friend. “Isn’t Ryan back yet?”

  “He should be home from Portland soon. I can’t wait to see him. A week alone seems like forever.”

  Nina dropped a handful of peas into the bucket on the ground. “I won’t stay long, then. I thought I’d stop by to say hi since I was in the neighborhood and figured you’d be home from work by now.”

  “Yep. I don’t know who’ll be happier to see the school year end, me or the kids.” Leah glanced over. “How are your new neighbors settling in?”

  “Okay, I guess. Lots of activity hauling away boxes over the last couple of days. They’re in an unpacking frenzy right now since Teague starts work tomorrow.”

  “Is his wife nice?”

  Nina’s hand stilled on the vine. “That was my mistake. He isn’t married, at least not anymore. His wife died a couple of years ago. I made a fool of myself based on a comment
from his little girl.”

  “Wow, sounds rough, moving to a new town with a daughter to care for and no support. Or does he have family here?”

  “I don’t think so because finding childcare seemed to be his number one priority. I’ve made myself scarce since the first day, so I’m not sure.”

  “Why?”

  Nina turned to frown. “What do you mean, why? He’s busy, and I did my neighborly duty the day they arrived by bringing them a meal.”

  “You said the man is hot, and he sounds like a good guy, if his daughter is his top priority. Do you have something against dating men with kids?”

  “Of course not, but—”

  “So get to know him. Maybe you two will hit it off.”

  Her toes curled as she pictured Teague hauling a stack of packing boxes to his truck, his T-shirt riding up to expose a strip of tanned skin above the band of his shorts as he heaved the boxes into the cargo area. “I’m not going to throw myself at the man, no matter how good-looking he is. Geez!”

  “Don’t throw. Have a conversation. To my knowledge, you haven’t been on a date in a couple of months. Or am I wrong?”

  “You’re not wrong, and he does seem like the solid, dependable sort—in addition to being hot. I guess I could put myself out there a little. Test the waters.”

  “You certainly could.” Leah squeezed her shoulder before she returned to picking peas. “What else is new?”

  “Nothing, really. I’m just painting as much as possible to get ready for the art fair.”

  “I’ll be on my honeymoon at the end of the month. I can’t wait.”

  “I bet.” Nina eyed her up and down. “You look disgustingly happy.”

  “Probably because I am, but I won’t nag you about dating anymore right now.” Leah dropped another handful of pea pods into the bucket. “You said Teague has to work on Saturday. What does he do?”

  “He’s a firefighter.”

  Her friend staggered backward in a fake swoon. “You live next to a single, hot firefighter, and you’re standing here talking to me? What’s wrong with you?”

  Nina grinned. “Well, when you put it like that . . .”

  Her friend picked up the bucket and thrust it toward her. “Take your peas and go. I’ll pick more for me and Ryan.”

  “Fine, I will.” She stepped carefully toward the edge of the garden. “See you later, Leah, and thanks for the peas.”

  “You’re welcome. Why don’t you share them with your neighbor? You have plenty.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  A short time later, Nina pulled into her driveway and glanced across the street as she stepped out of her car. Despite the fog hanging low in the trees, music drifted from the open upstairs window of the old Victorian. Sixties folk music. Interesting. She would have taken Teague for a classic rock kind of guy.

  After pulling her easel out of the passenger side, she hauled it up to the front porch and fished her keys out of her pocket. When she pushed the door open, a draft of air blew through the house and knocked one of the bills she’d left on the entry table to the floor. Stepping over the envelope, she headed straight upstairs to her studio, propped the easel against a wall, then ran back down to unload the rest of her gear. On the second trip upstairs, she shivered and wondered where the cool air was coming from. After setting down her box of paints along with the still-damp canvas, she went outside a final time to grab her purse and the bucket of peas.

  The Simon and Garfunkel hit had segued into smooth jazz. Apparently Teague’s taste in music was as eclectic as her own. Maybe she’d shell the peas and take them over to him. Just to be neighborly. Squaring her shoulders, she went back inside. The fact that simply looking at the man turned her knees to overcooked pasta had nothing to do with her burst of generosity.

  The cold draft was worse when Nina entered the kitchen. Goose bumps pebbled her skin as she glanced toward the window over the sink. Firmly closed, exactly the way she’d left it. She set her purse and the bucket down on the counter, then snapped her fingers. Damn, she’d left clothes in the washer in her rush to leave earlier. Hopefully they wouldn’t smell musty yet.

  Rounding the big refrigerator-freezer on the way to the laundry room, she stopped short. Glass littered the folding table next to the dryer. The window above it was shattered and had been raised to a fully open position. Her heart thumped a painful rhythm as she pushed aside the empty laundry basket. Avoiding the jagged shards, she peered through the opening. The screen lay on the ground below.

  “Oh, my God!”

  Spinning, she ran back through the kitchen and stopped in the middle of the living room. Her TV and laptop were still where she’d left them. Obviously, they hadn’t been after electronics. Money or jewelry? She’d had her purse with her . . .

  After sprinting up the stairs, she entered her bedroom and glanced around. Nothing seemed to be out of place. The lid to the jewelry box sitting on her dresser was closed. She flipped it open and sorted through a few chunky stone necklaces and bracelets. Most of them weren’t terribly valuable, and she was pretty sure none were missing. Nor were there any empty spaces on the earring tree next to her jewelry box. If not jewelry, then—

  “Oh, no.” Nina pressed a hand to her chest as she turned around. The framed landscape of lupine alongside a country road still hung over her bed. Her pulse thrummed painfully as she entered her studio and crossed to the stack of canvases leaning against the wall. Holding her breath, she counted all thirteen pieces she’d stockpiled for the fair.

  “Thank God.” She sagged in relief and pressed a hand against the wall to steady herself. She might not sell like Picasso, but each painting was worth around five grand and represented hours and hours of work.

  When a knock sounded downstairs, she nearly jumped out of her skin. On shaking legs, she left the studio and slowly descended the stairs as a second series of raps rattled the door.

  “Pull it together, Nina. Robbers who break windows don’t come back and knock.” With a grim smile, she opened the door a few inches and met Keely’s innocent gaze. Gripping the frame in relief, she opened the door wider. “Hi, Keely, how are you?”

  “Okay. Daddy says I’m only to invite you for dinner, then come straight home. He’s grilling chicken and says we owe you a meal.” She frowned. “Actually, I’m not sure if I was supposed to say the last part.”

  “I need to ask your dad something, so I’ll come back with you now, if you don’t mind.” Nina stepped outside and closed the door.

  “Sure.” Taking her hand, Keely skipped beside her down the steps. “Do you like barbecued chicken? I do. Did you know Daddy’s painting my room? Guess what color.”

  Nina sorted through the barrage of questions. “Uh, yes, I like chicken. Let’s see, is your room pink?”

  “Nope. Purple.” She stopped at the end of the driveway. “Hey, where did Coco go? She was with me when I came over.”

  Nina spotted the dog trotting around the side of the house where her laundry room was located. “There she is. I hope she didn’t cut her paws or destroy evidence.”

  “Huh?”

  Nina bent and scooped up the dog. As Coco squirmed to get down, she felt each paw before releasing her. “She seems fine.”

  Keely ran ahead and threw open the front door. “Daddy, Nina wants to talk to you,” she shouted.

  Upstairs, the music cut off. A moment later, Teague ran down the central stairway. Faded jeans sported a lavender brush mark across one thigh, and his white T-shirt was speckled in the same color. Somehow, he didn’t look any less masculine, even with purple trim.

  “Hey, Nina, did Keely invite you to dinner?”

  “She did, but there’s something I needed to ask you.” She glanced down at the expectant face of his daughter. “Why don’t you take Coco back outside. Her paws look dirty, and I saw a hose curled up next to the driveway.”

  “Okay. Come on, Coco.”

  After the door slammed shut behind them, Nina turned to face Teague.
“Sorry to take charge like that, but I have a reason.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Problem?”

  She dragged her gaze away from the mist of purple paint that tinged the hair on his muscled forearms. “Yeah. Someone broke the window in my laundry room. I assumed their intent was to steal something, but nothing seems to be missing. Did you notice anyone out on the street earlier this afternoon?”

  His eyes darkened to the color of storm clouds. “No, but I’ve been painting for the last few hours. I was just finishing up when I sent Keely over to your house.”

  “Should I ask your daughter? I didn’t want to say anything if it would upset her.”

  “Nothing much disturbs Keely, but she was having a marathon tea party in the backyard with her stuffed animals, so she wouldn’t have seen anyone on the street.”

  Nina’s brow creased. “Unless she wandered away, as she tends to do.”

  “Her bedroom faces the rear of the house, so I was keeping a pretty close eye on her. You can ask her if you want.”

  “No, I won’t say anything.” She ran the toe of her sandal along a seam in the wood floor. “The whole thing kind of creeped me out. I guess I should report the break-in to the police, even though nothing was stolen, then call about getting the window replaced.”

  He studied her for a moment. “Do you know the size to order?”

  She shook her head. “I can measure it, though. How hard can it be?”

  “How about if I do it for you? I actually know where my tape measure and other tools are now since I unpacked that box this morning.”

  Before she could answer, the door burst open, and Keely skipped inside, her wet tennis shoes squeaking on the wood floor. Coco followed, leaving a trail of water behind her.

  “Her feet are clean now.”

  “I bet.” Teague pointed. “Go straight to the laundry room and dry her with one of the old towels stacked on the washer. I have to help Nina with something, but I’ll be right back.”