Lone Oak Feud (Harlequin Heartwarming)

by Knupp, Amy

  * * *

  AGITATION HAD BEEN simmering since her phone call to Zach this morning. What was it about him that made her edgy? He didn’t take her seriously, that’s what it was. He doubted her competence and her sincerity. Made her feel like a child trying to cause trouble.

  She stood in her dad’s kitchen, heating a mug of water in the microwave. Mrs. Hale was here tonight, but Lindsey liked giving the woman a break. The housekeeper wasn’t paid well enough to be her dad’s nurse on top of everything else, even if she insisted she enjoyed helping him.

  Lindsey frowned as she watched the digital numbers tick down. Zach had always made her feel like a child, even though he was only two years older than her.

  If he thought she could be insensitive enough to hold Josh’s sins against an innocent child...well...just the idea burned her to the core. What kind of a person did Zach think she was?

  In truth, she supposed he had absolutely no idea what she was or who she was. They didn’t really know each other, not beyond the names and reputations a small town had built for them—and an evening of ill-advised liberties in an old, dusty wood shop she wished she could forget.

  Still. That he would treat her with suspicion gave her the urge to break something. Possibly his neck. She knew Owen hadn’t been in the family for long, but surely Zach had an ounce of caring in him and didn’t want any harm to come to the child. Did he?

  It came back to the same thing—she didn’t know. She didn’t really know him, either. Sure, she once thought she knew him, thought she’d seen some redeeming qualities in him. But that was a lifetime ago. He’d still been a boy, and she, a naive girl searching for a hero. Had she ever searched in the wrong place.

  She’d made every effort to know as little about Zach as possible since he’d left town. She wouldn’t care if he were the governor of Kansas. She had nothing to do with him anymore and never would.

  Or at least she wouldn’t once this situation with Owen was cleared up.

  Lindsey stirred tea for her dad, after adding a generous dollop of honey, then carried it to his room.

  He eyed the mug suspiciously. “What’re you going to make me choke down now?”

  “Brooke says it’s good for your immune system and healing. I sweetened it up for you.”

  She held it out to him but he didn’t budge. Setting it on the nightstand, she bent to kiss him. “Drink it by the time I get back.”

  “Brooke’s tree-hugging home remedies are going to be the death of me, not my faulty ticker.”

  She chuckled. “Drink it.”

  “Where you headed?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  He didn’t say a thing, just got quiet and looked morose.

  “Owen left his cement mixer here last night. I’m taking it back. If you hear gunshots, call 9-1-1 and pray that old bat’s a bad shot.” She hurried out the door, wishing he’d laugh at her attempt at lightness.

  Lindsey grabbed the truck she’d found under the kitchen table and went out the front door. Hopefully Josh was still gone.

  Unlike the other night, when she and Owen had cut through the grass, Lindsey walked all the way around on the sidewalk, heading for the driveway on the far side.

  She rolled her eyes, remembering all the times Mrs. Rundle had hollered at her and her sisters for being on her precious crabgrass-ridden lawn. It was as if she’d watched out the window for the slightest infraction. Before the accident, the relationship had been more neutral, but since then, there’d been nothing but tension. Elsa Rundle’s mission seemed to be to make sure no one looked on her grandsons badly. No matter that at least one of them might deserve it. It had probably crushed Mrs. Rundle when Josh had done time for his crime.

  As Lindsey ascended the slight incline on the Rundle driveway, she heard someone in the backyard. She followed what sounded like feet thudding onto gravel every few seconds.

  She found Owen jumping from the back concrete stairs into a dormant flower bed filled with small white rocks.

  “Hi, kiddo.” She smiled as he raced to the top step to leap again.

  Jump. “Hi!” He didn’t slow down to talk to her, heading back up the stairs.

  “What are you up to?”

  Jump. “Exercising.” Pant, pant. He gave the task everything he had.

  “Careful not to fall.” She moved closer and took the opportunity to hold out the yellow truck when he landed again. “Look what I found in my dad’s kitchen.”

  His eyes lit up when he saw it. “I thought it was lost forever!” He rushed toward her and grabbed the toy. Without so much as stopping to breathe, he skipped to the pavement, dropped to his knees and assured himself the truck still drove right.

  “Is your dad home yet?” If he was, she was outta there.

  “Nope.”

  “Does your grandma know you’re outside?”

  “Yeah.”

  Lindsey glanced toward the closest window, expecting to see narrowed eyes glaring at her, but there was no one there.

  “I’m glad she knows where you are. That way you won’t get lost.” Or cold, she thought, although he did have a jacket and ratty Power Rangers shoes on.

  Lindsey wasn’t completely comfortable walking off and leaving Owen by himself outside, but she didn’t have any choice. Mrs. Rundle must be checking on him from the window periodically. Owen appeared to be fine—no signs of the lost, scared boy she’d come upon yesterday.

  “I have to go now, Owen.”

  He halted his noisy narration of the cement truck’s progress across the driveway and glanced up at her with a long face. The little guy got to her, in spite of who his family was.

  Those eyes begged her to stay a while longer. Five minutes of her time was nothing, and she could handle Mrs. Rundle if she had to. Kids needed interaction and playmates, and she’d bet a month’s salary Owen didn’t have much of either. “You want to play for a few minutes?”

  The slow smile that crept across his face was worth the risk. “You like hide-and-seek?”

  She nodded.

  “You be ‘it.’”

  “Yes, sir. Stairs are base.” She knelt on the bottom step and ducked her head into her arms. Closing her eyes, she counted to twenty in a loud voice.

  Owen became more animated with each round, and she loved seeing him open up. They’d both hidden several times when she started to think she was pressing her luck. “You hide one more time, then I have to go. My dad’s waiting for me.”

  “I’m gonna find the goodest place this time!”

  She laughed. So far she hadn’t had any trouble locating him. He had a hard time staying quiet.

  After counting again, she warned him she was on her way. For once, she didn’t hear a giggle or the scuff of shoes on the ground. She was sure he wasn’t in the immediate area.

  She glanced around the backyard and didn’t see him peeking out anywhere, so she headed toward the front of the house. Wandering slowly along the driveway, making a show of looking everywhere in case he was watching, she wondered aloud where on earth a sneaky boy could hide.

  She was almost to the front corner of the house, searching in the line of evergreen shrubs along the driveway, when a big, black testosterone-ridden truck whipped into the driveway, skidding to a stop just in time to avoid hitting her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  LINDSEY’S HEART RESTARTED as the driver got out and slammed the door. She glanced around to make sure Owen hadn’t emerged from hiding and witnessed her nearly becoming a pancake. She was relieved to see no sign of him.

  Her relief smacked into a brick wall as Zach Rundle strode around the front of the truck toward the side of the driveway where she’d scrambled.

  She felt herself shrink and stepped back as he approached. He was...bigger than she remembered. Bro
ader. More muscular. Taller.

  She could tell herself until she was dizzy from lack of air that he wasn’t more appealing than she recalled...but she’d be flat-out lying.

  He wasn’t GQ-handsome. He was more of a dark-haired, tough, I’ll-do-what-I-please kind of man, but it looked good on him. Something about it attracted her. Or it would if he wasn’t Zach Rundle.

  He gave off an air of boldness, as if he knew he could handle anything—and maybe had during his lifetime. She knew his childhood hadn’t been particularly rosy, but he definitely didn’t look any worse for the wear.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Just perfect, thanks.”

  “Sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting anyone on the driveway.”

  “So I noticed. There’s a child living here, you know.”

  He started to respond, then closed his mouth.

  The moment she’d dreaded for years was finally here, and it was every bit as awkward as she’d imagined. Worse. Because he was being nice.

  She wished she could forget about how he’d humiliated her years ago. How he’d sent her away. But sixteen was an age where girls were easily scarred by rejection. Here it was, years later, and his still stung.

  Lindsey’s mouth was suddenly parched. She moistened her lips. “Thanks for coming so quickly—”

  “You didn’t give me much choice, did you?” His tone carried a hint of annoyance.

  She straightened and inched forward. “Believe me, if I wasn’t tremendously concerned about your nephew, I would never have called you.”

  He sized her up, seemingly trying to decipher her motives, as if she were hiding something. The only thing she hoped to hide was how he made her feel like she’d been shot back in time.

  Zach stepped forward, not taking his eyes off Lindsey. It was a stare down. She definitely had the advantage on that one, as he felt slightly off-balance just being close to her.

  She was still a beauty. Still had the looks of the town sweetheart, of the girl who could do no wrong. Heart-shaped face with skin like fresh peaches and cream, brown eyes with a glimmer of spirit in them, prominent cheekbones and long brown hair that’d been tossed around by the wind. The only thing missing was that irresistible dimple. As long as she didn’t smile, he’d be okay. And at the present moment, she didn’t seem to be much in a smiling mood.

  “I’m still trying to figure out why you did call me. Why would you care about anyone in my family?” He kept his voice steady. No need to show how unraveled he felt.

  She whipped her hair back behind her shoulder, clueing him in to the fact that she was upset. Welcome to the club.

  “Your grandma could have a serious problem. Dementia. Alzheimer’s. Something entirely different. Family members are often the last to admit there’s anything wrong.”

  What kind of psychobabble was she rattling on about? What did she know about families and dementia and...and then it hit him. She was a social worker of some kind. He remembered hearing it vaguely—one of the thousands of downfalls of coming from a small town—you heard stuff you didn’t want to know about people you tried not to think about even once you’d moved on.

  “We don’t need social services, so you can quit hovering like a vulture, waiting to swoop in.”

  Her eyes flashed with emotion. “My job has nothing to do with my concern for that boy. He’s a sweet child who deserves more than he might possibly be getting.”

  A dark-haired kid popped out of the bush at the end of the driveway and came barreling toward them. “You didn’t find me! I’m gonna make it to base!” he singsonged as he zipped past.

  Lindsey took off after him, letting him beat her. Once they hit the back steps, they both collapsed in laughter.

  “I winned! I winned!” The kid Zach assumed was Owen bounced on the bottom step, pleased with himself. Lindsey congratulated him with a hug. Zach could tell she was used to being with kids. The total opposite of him.

  “You’re too good for me, Owen,” she said. “That was a tricky hiding spot.”

  She gave Owen a high five. Zach felt like an outsider standing by the home where he’d grown up.

  He watched the kid with concealed interest, unable to fully grasp he was Josh’s flesh and blood. Zach’s nephew. Owen seemed full of energy and in no danger. He was scrawny, but then, Zach and Josh had both been rail-thin as kids, too.

  Lindsey, on the other hand, wasn’t rail-thin. Her modest curves and tiny waist were apparent through the snug fit of her sweater and jeans. She was a far cry from the teenage girl who’d approached him in the backyard shop. He’d been intrigued by her then, but this version of Lindsey threatened to send his thoughts in all kinds of directions he hadn’t allowed them to go in for a long time.

  Zach had grown up, gotten serious. Figured out the important things in his life. And a woman wasn’t one of them. He was more interested in practical, uncomplicated things, like his career. He was no longer a sucker for a pretty face. Especially not one with such a load of emotional baggage, who lived in a place he vowed to never call home again.

  The back door was out of sight from where he stood, but Zach heard the old screen door squeak open.

  “Owen! Come over here! Salinger girl, get your skinny self off my property!”

  Lindsey’s eyes closed and even from where he stood he could see her take a deep breath. She didn’t give his grandma a glance, but bent down to Owen. “See you, kiddo. I had fun playing with you.” She smiled warmly at the boy, giving no obvious sign of being bothered by the scolding.

  She used to burst into tears with the slightest provocation—he’d witnessed it several times from afar. Gone was the girl who wore her heart on her sleeve. In her place was...definitely a woman.

  No. He couldn’t think of her that way. She was simply the nagging inconvenience that had dragged him away from Wichita for a few days.

  Zach walked up the driveway toward the back door, and their eyes locked. For an instant. Sparks of challenge and attraction shot between them. Once she’d passed him on her way to the sidewalk, he turned around to watch her. Then he turned back, reminding himself he didn’t want to think of her that way.

  “Zachary Rundle! What are you doing here?”

  He grinned up at the crotchety old woman, then took the steps in two bounds to deliver a hug. “Grandma.”

  She felt frail in his arms, not quite as strong or full of it as she’d always been. Seeing her get older and weaker was rough, but still, it was always good to be with her again. Whenever he came home, he realized how much he missed her. He couldn’t stand the town, but he loved this old woman.

  When they pulled apart, he could swear he saw a hint of moisture in her eyes, but by the time he did a double take, it was gone. Good. She wasn’t going soft on him. That wouldn’t be his grandma.

  “You didn’t answer my question, mister.”

  He squeezed her shoulders, unable to stop smiling.

  “So this is Owen, huh?” He motioned over his shoulder, then turned to the boy who stood glued to the bottom step, clearly confused.

  “This is Owen. Owen, say hello to your uncle Zach.”

  The child looked down at his feet and didn’t respond.

  “Owen.” Grandma’s voice was sterner.

  He mumbled a “hi” so soft Zach barely heard it. Maybe the kid wasn’t as outgoing as he’d originally thought.

  “I don’t think he’s used to men,” his grandma said quietly.

  “Hey, O.” He paused, wondering what one said to a five-year-old kid. “How you doing?”

  “Fine.”

  He glanced at his grandma, hoping she’d take charge as was her specialty. Nowadays, Zach was comfortable with that for the most part. But when he was a teenager, there’d been plenty of head-butts.

  “Come inside, Owen.
You need a bath,” she said.

  “I’m not dirty.” The boy searched his arms and trunk and shrugged his shoulders. The earnest look on his face almost made Zach chuckle.

  “Now, Owen.”

  Zach was quite familiar with Gram’s don’t-mess-with-me tone, and he waited to see if his nephew had figured out she meant business. Owen plodded up the outside stairs to the back door, shoulders sagging. Either he learned fast or he was used to taking orders from his great-grandma.

  Zach followed them inside to the kitchen.

  “Where’s Josh?”

  “Don’t go jumping into questions until you answer mine. What are you doing in town?”

  “Couldn’t stand being away from you any longer, Granny Dearest.”

  She grabbed a magazine off the ancient white countertop, rolled it up and bopped him on the head. “Don’t you sweet-talk me, Zachary.” She grinned in spite of her tough act.

  “Owen, go get your dirty clothes off. Uncle Zach will be up to run some bath water in a few minutes.”

  The boy flew out of the room, probably glad to get away from the uncle he’d never met before. Zach shrugged. He knew what it was like to have a bunch of new adults forced on you after your parents took off. He distinctly remembered it sucked.

  Zach hefted himself up onto the counter next to the sink. If Owen didn’t want to open up to him, so be it. Zach didn’t consider himself much of a talker, anyway. Besides, he wouldn’t be here for long. Just long enough to get Lindsey off his grandma’s back.

  “Where’s my lazy brother?” Zach said lightly.

  “Zachary. There’s a child in the house. Try to restrain yourself.” Her lips puckered in sternness and he felt like hugging her again.

  “So where is he?”

  His grandma’s face fell and she shook her head as she lowered herself onto a ladder-back chair. “Wish I knew. Least he could’ve done is leave a note.”

  “Yeah, I can see Josh as the note type.” He shook his head. If Josh had ever done anything responsible in his life, their grandma would look ten years younger. But her devotion to both her grandsons had never wavered.