by Arlene James
Zach hated to think that she could lose her business along with this house if they failed to meet the requirements of their grandfather’s will. Arabella had lived here with the old man after her divorce, and she’d cooked, cleaned and nursed him without a word of complaint to anyone. Grandpa George had repaid her by putting her home in jeopardy and used that to force his grandchildren to dance to his tune. Zach resented that on Arabella’s behalf, yet, he couldn’t deny that both he and Brooke had benefited from returning to Colorado.
Just how much remained to be seen.
Oh, no one could doubt that Brooke had found love, home and happiness here, but every time Zach thought he might have found the same, something cropped up to call that assumption into question, like a wedding that no one except the couple involved—and, apparently, Kylie—thought should take place.
What did that say about Kylie’s judgment? And his?
Chapter Twelve
Arabella’s golden eyes met Zach’s across the large, formal parlor. He read and shared the disapproval and concern there, but she said nothing as Kylie expounded enthusiastically on her ideas for the wedding that Jasmine and Cade were planning.
When Kylie at last wound down, Arabella spoke. “Good to see you guys. Why don’t you come back to the kitchen for a sample?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Zach quipped. He laid a hand on Kylie’s shoulder, saying, “You could join us.”
She tilted her head back, offering him a regretful smile. Then she glanced at Jasmine and her expression turned wary. When she looked back to Zach, her eyes seem to plead for his tolerance. “I, um, have a few more ideas to discuss with Jasmine.”
He nodded and reluctantly left her there, Brooke following with a hand laid lightly against his back, as if to say that she understood his misgivings. They followed Arabella through the center of the house to the roomy, old-fashioned kitchen with its many windows and long butcher-block table. Despite the stark white cabinets, Arabella had given it a colorful feel with touches of green, yellow and red.
“Where are the girls?” Zach asked, pulling out a chair for his sister and another for Arabella.
“Taking naps, I hope,” Arabella said, waving him down into his own chair. “Sit. I’ll be there in a minute.” She began filling a serving plate with goodies from various tins, pans and jars. As she worked, she spoke. “I don’t know what to do about Jasmine. This wedding she’s planning feels more real every day.”
“What can you do?” Brooke asked. “She’s old enough to marry if she pleases.”
“She’s always been such a sensible, respectful girl,” Arabella went on, shaking her head. “I just can’t believe that she’s going to go through with it.”
“I’m sorry about Kylie’s involvement,” Zach said. “I’m sure she doesn’t mean to upset you. She’s just got this thing about weddings.”
Only when Arabella turned a wry, knowing look on him and Brooke cleared her throat did Zach realize what he’d just done. What gave him the right to apologize for Kylie?
“I’ll admit that Kylie’s involvement seems to have pushed things forward a bit,” Arabella said, “but Jasmine and Cade were already engaged when she came into it. Can’t blame her for that. What do you want to drink? Milk? Tea? Coffee?” She turned a smile on Zach. “Sorry, no cola.”
Brooke opted for tea.
“Coffee,” Zach decided. “I’ve only been out of bed for a little while. Maybe it’ll help wake me up.”
“How come? Busy night?” While Arabella poured herself a glass of milk, loaded a red enamel tray and carried it to the table, Zach explained about the burning tree.
Arabella clucked her tongue as she doled out beverages, small plates, forks and napkins. “Have you talked to Vincent?”
“I have. For all the good it did.”
While Arabella transferred goodies onto small plates, Zach sipped from his cup of fragrant black coffee and reached for a bit of something that looked like a pinwheel of nut filling surrounded by dark cake. Popping the tidbit into his mouth, he hummed approval.
Arabella smiled and parked herself in a chair beside Brooke. “So this is your breakfast, huh?”
“Oh, no. Mrs. Jones made a breakfast fit for a king this morning, but that was about five.”
Brooke laughed. “Lunch, then.”
“More like pre-dinner dessert,” Zach said, diving into the bounty with fork and fingers.
When he had knocked the edge off his hunger, he drew his phone from his pocket and placed it on the table. “I got a call from my buddy with the Florida state police. We need to talk about Lucas.”
Sighing, Arabella sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. “I didn’t think you came over for coffee cake and nut breads. What’s going on?”
“We’ll want to bring Mei and Vivienne in on this,” Zach said before detailing what he’d learned. “Sis, will you call Viv? Arabella, if you’ll speak to Mei, I’d appreciate it, but first, I think we ought to pray.”
They all linked hands to pray before making their calls. After hearing what Zach had to say, Mei and Vivienne both concurred with the others that the time had come to bring in a private investigator. Zach picked up his own phone and began trying to get through to the person recommended to him. It took several minutes, but he finally got to speak to the P.I. Twenty minutes after that, the cousins and the investigator had comes to terms concerning his assignment via conference call.
“This may not work, but I really think it’s the only thing we can do,” Zach said after the call ended.
“I’m afraid you’re right,” Brooke agreed, “but at least it’s something more than wringing our hands. That and prayer have been about our only options.”
“Prayer is still our most powerful tool,” Arabella pointed out.
“True,” Brooke said.
Zach nodded. “I’ve certainly been praying more and more since I came back to Colorado.”
“Is that good or bad?” Arabella asked wryly.
“Good,” Zach replied. “It’s good.”
True, need or concern often spurred his prayers, but when in this life was that not an issue? Only in Heaven could one live free of need and fear. At least he had begun to regularly talk things over with God. Back in Miami, he’d let himself get into the habit of depending only on his own judgment and efforts. For a while, after the shooting, he hadn’t been able to pray at all. Only after he’d let go of the guilt had he felt free to truly pray again. Kylie’s confidence in him had given him the strength and surety for that.
Smiling, Brooke reached across the table to squeeze his hand. “Well, I, for one, am delighted to have you here.”
“That makes two of us,” Arabella told him.
Just then a little voice wailed, “Mama!”
Arabella popped up, calling out, “Coming!” She smiled apologetically at Zach and Brooke. “I’d better get to her before she wakes her sisters.”
“I need to be going anyway,” Brooke said, getting to her feet. “Gabe has some reports to go over this afternoon, so I’ll be entertaining A.J.”
Zach rose and they took their leave, thanking Arabella for her hospitality. As they passed by the living room, Zach stuck his head inside to speak to Kylie, only to find her missing.
“Oh, she had to get back to the diner,” Jasmine said, thumbing through a magazine.
“Someone pick her up?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
That meant she would be walking. The diner was only a few blocks away, but Zach didn’t like the idea of her being out on the street alone with Vincent doing his best to intimidate her. “Come on,” he told Brooke, grabbing his hat on the way out of the house.
Fortunately, Kylie hadn’t even made it to the end of the walkway. “Wait up,” Zach called to her, fitting the hat onto his head.
She half-turned, but before either of them could speak, Arabella appeared with little Julie on her hip. The anxious expression on her face captured Zach’s full attention. �
��Something wrong?”
Arabella glanced at her daughter, saying, “I saw someone.”
“What do you mean?”
Catching Brooke’s eye, Arabella handed off the girl and pulled Zach toward the end of the porch where a double swing swayed gently in the breeze.
“I—I thought it was my imagination before, but I was raising the window in the bedroom just now and I saw him again.”
“Saw who?”
“I don’t know. A man. A strange man.”
Zach pointed to the left, already moving in that direction. “Around here?”
“Yes. At the back of the house.”
“Is the back door locked?”
“Yes.”
“Stay here,” he commanded.
He hopped over the railing so his footsteps on the planking of the wraparound porch would not give away his approach and ran around the corner of the house. Seeing nothing unusual, he swiftly checked the nooks and crannies before sliding around the next corner. Here the house cast a shadow, requiring Zach to poke through the shrubs.
He strode around to the front again, approaching from the opposite direction. Brooke and Arabella had joined Kylie at the edge of the street. Brooke still held Julie in her arms. Zach walked up to them and ruffled the girl’s hair to lighten the mood. Smiling, she shyly hid her face in the crook of Brooke’s neck.
“Anything?” Arabella asked.
Zach shook his head. “You’ve seen this person before, though, haven’t you?”
“Yes. Twice before.”
“And you’re sure you don’t know him?”
Arabella narrowed her eyes. “He does look familiar. He’s not from around here, though, and I can’t remember seeing him anywhere else.” She shook her head. “No, I’d remember.”
“Can you describe him?”
“Tall, even features, curly, dark blond hair. He’s rather handsome, actually.”
Zach patted Arabella’s shoulder. “We should check the house.”
She shook her head, saying softly, “I don’t want to alarm the girls. Grandpa insisted we keep things locked up, so it’s pretty much habit, but I’ve relaxed lately about the front door.”
“Better start keeping that locked, too. Meanwhile, I’ll feel better if we take a look inside. We can do it quietly. Come with me.”
He had Brooke and Kylie wait outside with Julie, then walked into the house with Arabella. By unspoken agreement, they said nothing to Jasmine. Moving silently, they poked their heads into all the small spaces where an intruder might hide, but they found nothing. Every lower window and door proved to be locked, with the exception of the front door, as Arabella had said.
They went outside to find Brooke and Kylie enjoying the porch swing with Julie. Both women rose as Zach shook his head to let them know that no sign of an intruder had been found.
“Maybe I’m making too much of it,” Arabella said.
Zach shook his head. “No…you’re right to be cautious. If you see him again, you call me. Hear?”
“I will,” she promised softly. The fear and concern in her brown-gold eyes stabbed straight into Zach’s heart.
“I’ll be keeping a watch,” he promised.
She nodded and tried to smile. Zach patted her shoulder and watched as she said her goodbyes and shepherded little Julie into the house.
First Vincent and his mischief, and now a stranger lurking around a houseful of females? Who, Zach asked himself, was watching Arabella? And when did things around little Clayton, Colorado, get so complicated?
“Come on,” Zach said, sliding his sunshades onto his face. “We’ll give you a ride.”
It wasn’t exactly an invitation, but Kylie knew she could easily refuse. She swiftly considered doing so, but her desire to be with Zach—even if he did not seem particularly happy with her at the moment—overcame any minor trepidation. Besides, these things should be talked out. Although Brooke volunteered to get into the backseat of the uncovered Wrangler, Kylie insisted on doing so.
“In that case,” Zach said, “I’ll drop you off first, sis.”
Kylie had allowed herself plenty of time to get back before the second half of her split shift began, but much of that time had been eaten up by the search for Arabella’s trespasser. Still, she didn’t object. From the moment of her arrival at the house, she had sensed Arabella’s disapproval; now, she sensed Zach’s. But surely they could agree to disagree on Jasmine and Cade’s wedding plans? Neither of them could stop the young couple from getting married, after all. As they drove toward Bluebird Lane, she wondered how Brooke felt about the matter.
“I hope neither of you objects to my helping Jasmine plan the wedding.”
Zach and his sister traded looks. Then Brooke sighed and shrugged. “I don’t suppose it makes any difference one way or another.”
Zach said nothing, but Kylie took heart from Brooke’s answer. “The way I see it is that if they’re determined to get married, at least they can have a nice ceremony and not go into debt for it.”
Brooke nodded and relief flooded through Kylie. She bit her lip, her gaze on Zach. She couldn’t see much more from this angle than hat and a glimpse of mirrored sunglasses, but she sensed his disapproval. “I hope that, if they do get married,” she went on hesitantly, “you’ll give Cade a chance. He really is a good kid.”
“He’s certainly been nothing but polite, kind and steady since I’ve been in Clayton,” Brooke conceded, “and he’s very faithful in church.”
“I’m inclined to cut the kid a break myself,” Zach said. “Kid being the operative word here, which is why I don’t want them to get married.”
“No one’s saying they aren’t young,” Kylie pointed out, “but they are of legal age to marry.”
Zach sighed. “Well, it’s certainly not our call.”
When he pulled up in front of Gabe’s house, Brooke hopped out, waved and ran toward the front door. Kylie expected Zach to whip a U-turn and head downtown, but he just sat there for several seconds before reaching over and patting the seat next to him.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked. “Climb over.”
“Oh.” Kylie stood and carefully climbed over the seat. Sliding down into position, she reached for the safety belt. As soon as she buckled up, Zach hooked that U-turn and aimed the Jeep at downtown.
Kylie bucked up her courage and said, “I hope you aren’t—”
“I’m not mad at you,” he interrupted. “I’d prefer that you not help Jasmine plan this wedding, but I’m not angry. I’m troubled. I thought we were clear on that.”
“I’m not sure you’re clear on my position,” Kylie ventured carefully. “I feel I must help Jasmine. I mean, if it were Mariette, God forbid, I’d help her.”
“Even if your parents disapproved?”
“Yes, because they would understand why I was doing it. Offering support doesn’t mean approval. It’s just that if they’re going to do this difficult thing, they’re going to need all the support they can get.”
Zach rubbed a hand across his nape. She’d noticed that he did that often, and it made her want to reach out and stroke him there. Remembering how he’d held her that morning while the tree burned and how safe and treasured he’d made her feel, she let herself do it. By the third time her fingertips brushed across his nape, he had relaxed his shoulders. When he nosed the vehicle into a parking space in front of the diner, her hand rested comfortably on the back of his neck. He killed the engine and leaned toward her, plucking the glasses from his face and folding them into his shirt pocket. His blue eyes held hers.
“Those kids are going to do what those kids are going to do,” he said, sliding his arm across her shoulders. “I can’t promise I can be as supportive as you are, but I am not angry with you about it. Or anything else. I don’t think I could be angry with you even if I wanted to be, but if I ever am angry with you, you’ll know it. Okay?”
“Okay.”
He leaned toward her. She smiled softly, a
ware of her heartbeat accelerating as she waited for his kiss. Then the door to the diner slammed open, commanding their attention. Janey Guilder stumbled out of the diner. Rob Crenshaw careened along with her, grappling with her arm as she pumped it in an effort to avoid his grasp.
“Janey!” Kylie erupted, just as the other woman cried, “Let go of me!”
Without thinking, Kylie bailed out of the Jeep and ran to her friend. “Get away from her!”
“She comin’ wi’ me!” Rob yelled, spewing alcoholic fumes. He managed to get a grasp on Janey’s arm and draw her back against him.
Kylie grabbed that hand and attempted to peel back his fingers. “She is not!”
“Let go!” Janey insisted, stumbling as Rob released her and shoved Kylie.
Reeling backward, Kylie managed to right herself as Rob yelled, “Stay out my bizniz!”
Suddenly, Zach had Rob facedown on the ground. He pressed a knee into the other man’s back as he pulled a stiff vinyl strip from a pocket. As Zach bound Rob’s hands with the plastic cuffs, Rob bucked ineffectually, bawling that he ought to break Kylie’s nose for “stickin’ it in my bizniz.”
“You’re under arrest,” Zach said sternly, rattling off his rights, which Rob ignored.
“You ’zerve wha’er happens!” he snarled at Kylie. “You got ’tween me ’n my girl!”
“Hey,” said an amused voice, “listen there. He’s threatening Kylie.”
She looked around to find that Vincent had stepped into the doorway. Zach sent him a glower. “Stay out of this, Vincent.” Rising, he hauled Rob to his feet.
“You heard him!” Vincent insisted. “You accused me of terrorizing Kylie, but he’s the one throwing around threats.”
