by Tina Leonard
A shudder ran over her that had nothing to do with the cool temperature at which she kept the house, or the gathering dark clouds outside, warning of a massive snow dump before the night was out.
She returned to the letter, her hands trembling a little.
Son, inside the box you’ll find your birth certificate, as well as a gift from Honoria. The end of the story isn’t a pleasant one. As you know, Daisy is straight from the DNA of her father, which you somehow escaped, thankfully. You brought your mother and me a lot of joy over the years, Ty. After Emily died I could sit in this house and think about the happy memories we had as a family. I can still hear your little footsteps thumping down the stairs. I can see your happy smile every night when I came home. I can see you running footballs into the end zone, and escorting the Homecoming queen. More than that, you were good to us, son. You were the miracle we would have never had in our lives. Forgive us, please, for keeping you to ourselves. You were the hope and the dream we never expected to have, and you were the son we’d always prayed for. You grew into a good man, and you made us proud. As far as Emily and I were concerned, you were ours, and the thing we loved the most.
I love you, son.
Dad
Tears jumped into Jade’s eyes, streaming down as she put the letter back inside the envelope. She flipped through the other paperwork, but there was nothing else other than what Terence had mentioned, and a tiny box she assumed was the gift from his mother. Jade opened that quickly, wiping at her tears.
It was a small sterling Saint Michael medal, almost identical to the one Frog wore. Ty’s full name was engraved on the back. Jade returned the medal to the velvet pouch, thinking that Ty would have liked such a gift. She closed the box, hesitated only a moment as she realized with dawning horror that Robert Donovan was the blood grandfather to her children, and Daisy the girls’ aunt.
It was too much to contemplate right now. Jade crammed the box back into its secret nest and went to get the repair items Ty had left for her. She sealed the step back into place with wood glue, making sure it was tight and secure.
No one would ever know Sheriff Spurlock’s secret. It would certainly never fall from her lips.
Satisfied with her handiwork, she put the toolbox away, then slipped on her coat, anxious to be away from the house. A promise was a promise, and she’d kept her promise to Ty. She felt immensely better now that she’d discharged her final duty—but her heart was heavy.
The door blew open on a gust of wind and icy puffs of cold. She gasped, staring into Ty’s eyes as he filled the doorway, dark and forbidding and somehow not the Ty she remembered. A dark stranger gazed back at her, his face lean with hard planes, his body taut and muscle-packed.
“Ty!” Jade exclaimed. “You’re home!”
He nodded, closed the door. “Yeah. I guess you could say that.” He jerked his head toward the door. “I saw your truck. Hope I didn’t scare you.”
“No.” She backed up a step. “Of course not.”
She wasn’t frightened, but her heart raced in spite of her words. The man she’d made love to no longer seemed to reside in his dark eyes. He didn’t smile, didn’t seem glad to see her.
If anything, he seemed remote.
“The roads are getting bad. You shouldn’t be driving in the dark.”
“No.” She tightened her jacket, gulped a little nervously. “I should go.”
He sniffed the air. “Do I smell glue? Paint?”
She shook her head. “I just cleaned the kitchen sink. You’re probably smelling that.”
He nodded, sighed tiredly. “Probably. Thanks for watching the house for me.”
“It wasn’t a problem at all,” she said nervously, doing a little skitter around him to get to the door.
His hand shot out, grabbing her arm as she edged past. Her eyes caught on his gaze, her heart banging wildly inside her.
“I’m wiped,” Ty said. “I’ve been on flights and in airports for the past three days, and I’m probably only close to being human. I don’t mean to be rude.”
“It’s all right,” she said quickly. She went to the door, opening it. “I understand.”
He put a palm on the door to detain her. “I really do appreciate you taking care of everything while I was gone. Though I noticed you didn’t take any of the cash I put in the account to pay you.”
“I didn’t need it. There was really nothing to do. Good night.” She hurried out the door, sleet stinging her face. Oh, God, that had been so awkward. It was as if their idyllic time together had never happened.
And yet it had. She was going to have to tell Ty the truth eventually, now that he’d come home. She got in her truck, gazing at the house with rapidly blinking eyes, trying hard to fight back tears.
She missed the Ty who had left BC.
Strangely, irrationally, the Ty who had returned to BC was really hot, dangerous looking. She swallowed, recognizing that her whole body had come alive when he’d walked in the door. So alive she’d forgotten to tell him everything she’d wanted to tell him—even congratulate him on becoming a full-fledged SEAL.
No, in the heat of the moment, caught off guard and worried that her own secrets would somehow be revealed, she’d babbled, saying nothing meaningful.
She hoped he didn’t discover that the step had just been repaired. He’d definitely ask questions.
She took a deep, worried breath, astonished that her children were related to Robert Donovan. The thought was shattering. And she’d cut their aunt’s hair off, giving Daisy a hairdo that had taken a long time to return to any semblance of attractive.
One thing was crystal clear: Jade wasn’t going to make the decision that Honoria had had to make. She would tell him the truth, so that he could know his children.
And hopefully, he wouldn’t bring up the marriage promise he’d demanded before he ever even kissed her. She had no desire to be married to a stranger.
And that’s what Ty had become.
* * *
TY STARED AT the closed door, a little startled by how quickly Jade had disappeared. It was almost unfair how much more beautiful she’d become in his absence. He swallowed, his gut hollowed out by the sudden rush of emotions hitting him since staring into those big green peepers of hers. Peering through the window at her truck, Ty thought about how many cold nights, how many muscle-tearing exercises her smile had gotten him through.
She hadn’t smiled at him tonight, not once.
In fact, she’d looked like she’d seen a ghost.
“Hell, maybe I am a ghost,” he muttered. He turned to glance through the house once he saw her taillights disappear into the darkness. “A ghost that definitely smells glue.”
There was an obvious difference in chemical makeup between glue and dishwashing soap, or even whatever sink cleaner she might have used, and Ty frowned. He left his duffel on the rug and walked into the kitchen, switching on some lights. He’d almost gone to the Hanging H to bunk in with Frog, Squint and Sam, but decided he didn’t want anyone to know he was in town just yet. He needed sleep desperately, so desperately he didn’t bother to stop at The Wedding Diner to grab a meal, even though he knew there’d be nothing edible in the house, and he missed the hell out of Jane Chatham’s home cooking.
He wasn’t in the mood for company, needed a few days of sleep to get human again. Once he’d seen Jade’s truck parked in his drive, he’d suddenly felt a burst of something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Happiness. He’d been happy as a kid in a candy store to know that little redhead was in his house. She was the only person on this planet he cared to see right now.
“Think I scared her off,” he told the salt and pepper shakers on the kitchen island, before turning his gaze to the living room sofa, where he had once held Jade after she’d stumbled down the stairs.
It had been the happiest time of his life, holding that curvy body in his arms.
She’d barely written while he’d been gone, just a few breezy notes reciting the happenings in BC. He’d searched every line she’d penned for the announcement that she was pregnant, and as the months passed, he’d realized her one ovary had been immune to him, after all.
She was even more beautiful now, somehow almost glowing. Something soft and gentle had rounded out her body, and his had responded instantly. If she ever gave him the chance to try to overcome that ovary again, he wouldn’t be saying no.
He went to grab a glass of water from the tap, and hesitated, arrested by the dry, clean sink.
Whoa, the little lady had totally tossed off a humdinger of a fib. This sink was clean, but it had not just been cleaned; it was dry as a bone. Even the sponge was dry. He drank the glass of water and walked back to the front door.
Yep. Glue.
His gaze fell to the stair. He’d forgotten all about that, had put the whole thing out of his mind. Bending, he touched the seam, his finger coming away with a trace of wetness. Definitely glue.
She’d waited this long to go through the box and repair the stair? He wiped the glue on his jeans, and thought about why that might be.
They were three weeks from Christmas. Maybe she hadn’t had time to do it before—and not sure whether he’d be able to return for the holidays, maybe she’d decided to get on with it.
Which would mean that for nearly a year, she’d just stepped over the broken step.
Shrugging, he decided it didn’t matter. She’d done what he wanted done, and he didn’t give a damn what was hidden away there. He went back to the kitchen, grabbed a warm beer from a case that was stored in the pantry, cracked it open. Guzzled it, wrinkled his nose, searched out a bottle of whiskey he had in the bar.
“That’s more like it,” he said, after a satisfying, straight-up gulp. Maybe one more would relax him enough to fall asleep.
He thought about Jade’s cloud of soft red hair cascading over her white parka. Maybe she and Sam had gotten together, after all, or maybe someone else had caught her fancy. There was no reason she wouldn’t be dating.
Jealousy hit Ty so fast and hard it was stunning. Which was stupid as hell. Why would she wait for him? They’d made no promises to each other, outside of that silly promise he’d extracted from her that if he’d gotten her pregnant, she’d marry him.
Jade would never have married him. She’d been completely focused on his goal.
He’d succeeded in that goal beyond his wildest dreams. Had no regrets.
Except for losing her.
He sat at the kitchen table where he’d eaten meals with his parents. Stared out the window into the back garden, not seeing much thanks to the darkness. Beyond their yard lay Robert Donovan’s land, the beginning of his fiefdom. Land that his father had sold Donovan, believing the man when he’d said he wanted to run cattle on it.
Cattle had not been the kingdom Donovan had planned to build. Steel and concrete and a consortium of government-owned buildings was Donovan’s plan, turning BC into some kind of outlying big-city-in-the-country—if he could figure out how to push out the hardy, intractable citizens with their thick, stubborn roots buried deep in BC soil.
Ty put the glass to his mouth, hesitating when the doorbell rang and the door swung open.
“Ty?”
He set the glass down at hearing Jade’s voice. Sounded like an angel calling to him. Hunger rushed over him, a burning desire he’d never fully extinguished. “In here.”
The front door closed, and he waited with his heart hammering. She walked into the kitchen with a huge sack, her red hair windblown and wild, looking like all his dreams come true. Her gaze fell on his nearly empty glass and the whiskey bottle beside it.
“I figured you were hungry.”
He was. God, he was hungry. And Little Red Riding Hood had just walked in with her bag of goodies. “I am.”
“I stopped at The Wedding Diner and picked you up some food. It won’t last you long, but I figured you’d need something.” She started unpacking the contents onto the counter. “Pot roast, lasagna or pork roast?”
She glanced at him. His throat dried out.
You. Just you.
“Whichever’s easiest. Thanks,” he blurted out instead.
“I can’t stay,” Jade said, pulling out the lasagna. She set it in front of him, retrieved some utensils and put those out, too. “Now, the other two entrées are hot as well, so you’re going to have to let them cool before you stick them in the fridge. But you’ll have food for the next couple of days if the roads are icy, or you just feel like sleeping.” She smiled at him, a smile that electrified him. “I’m putting some of Mom’s blackberry cobbler and apple pie in the fridge, too.” Jade moved away, a busy whirlwind, intent on her mission. He glanced at the steaming lasagna, but then his gaze ricocheted back to her. That was where his temptation lay, in those round hips, long legs, the sweet smile he remembered so well. “Mom’s going to wonder where I am, so I’m off.”
He got up, wanting to detain her. But he couldn’t. There was a barrier between them that hadn’t been there before. So he walked her to the door, following the motion of her sexy butt under the parka with a tight throat. “Appreciate the food.”
“Not a problem.” She opened the door.
He closed it. “I do have a small question.”
She gazed up at him. “Okay.”
“I actually have lots of questions.” He took a deep breath. “Any chance you’d want to have dinner with me tomorrow night, catch me up on the hometown news?”
The smile slid away, and the shadows he’d seen earlier returned to her eyes. “I can’t, Ty.”
He nodded. “Okay.” His heart plummeted into his stomach.
“Listen,” she said suddenly, “eventually we’ll talk.”
“Eventually?”
“When you’ve had a chance to sleep. When you’ve—”
A sudden gust rattled the front windows. Ty opened the door, staring outside. “Snow’s really coming down now.”
“I have to go.” She slipped around him, zipped up her parka on the porch.
“The roads are going to be bad,” he warned. “Maybe you should stay here for a while.” Until morning. Sofa, guest room, wherever, just stay.
“I can’t,” she said. “Goodbye, Ty.”
She went to her truck, got in, switched it on and drove down his drive without looking back.
A lot had changed in eleven months.
He wished it hadn’t changed so much.
Chapter Twelve
Jade was still so stunned by Ty’s sudden appearance that the next day she kept herself extra busy. The babies, at two months, were starting to become more interested in their surroundings. She set them on the kitchen island counter in their carriers, where they could watch her bake cookies for the Christmas village tonight. Baking would keep her mind off Ty, and it would help out her mother. Jade glanced at her darling girls, cooing at them, still shocked that their grandfather was the horrible, merciless Robert Donovan.
Ugh. The thought made her hands tremble slightly. Jade took a deep breath. “Chocolate-chip cookies it is, girls.”
Suz came into the kitchen, her smile huge. “I was hoping these little ladies would be awake! Mwah!” She kissed both babies on their foreheads. “Guess what?” she said to Jade.
“Anything I might guess right now would be wrong,” Jade replied. She couldn’t have guessed anything that had happened yesterday, from what the box had revealed to Ty suddenly showing up, sending her heart into overdrive.
She was no more over him than she’d ever been.
“We’ve got the loans on the business paid off!” Suz radiated joy, twirling around t
he kitchen with an elflike jig. “Robert Donovan can’t call them in, can’t bulldoze our business, can’t hurt us anymore!”
Jade smiled. “That’s awesome!”
“It is.” Suz finally parked herself on a bar stool so she could play with the babies’ toys. “And the guys have promised to stay on another year.”
“Frog, Squint and Sam.”
Suz nodded, took a few chocolate-chip kisses out of the bag Jade was about to use for the cookies. “This means ol’ Mr. Donovan can get stuffed.”
Jade couldn’t help a laugh. “Yes, he can.” Probably it was bad of her to speak unkindly of her daughters’ grandfather—but then again, he didn’t know about them, and what he didn’t know didn’t hurt him.
Maybe he never had to know.
It’s not like he would care, she thought, remembering Sheriff Spurlock’s letter to his son.
“Blast,” Jade said. “I’m a butterfingers today.” She looked at the egg she’d just splattered all over the countertop, the yolk missing the bowl by at least an inch.
Suz grinned. “Guess who’s about to come in for a fridge raid?”
Jade stiffened. Surely not Ty.
Oh, she hoped it was Ty. “Who?”
“Who else raids refrigerators like they were personal picnic baskets?” Suz turned to face Sam Barr as he walked in, hands in his jeans pockets, a grin on his handsome face.
Jade was so disappointed it was all she could do to smile.
“Hi, womenfolk,” he said cheerfully.
“Womenfolk?” Suz scowled. “Are you a manfolk?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll ponder that sometime, princess.” He kissed Suz on the cheek, drawing a squeal from her, then dropped a kiss on each baby cheek, as well. Then he looked at Jade, who brandished a wooden spoon at him.
“No, thank you,” she said.
He laughed. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“I can do without.”
“I’d be hurt, except I know you gals who protest the most usually have a secret you’re keeping.” He went to peer inside the fridge. “Betty said she put some pumpkin pie back just for me. Has my name on it and everything.” He foraged around for his treat.
