Just a Whisper Away

by Lauren Nichols

  Jace winced.

  “Yeah,” she murmured. “That Sandra knows her stuff.” Then she seemed to realize he’d come in for a reason. “What’s up?”

  “Your friend Stuart phoned. He wants you to call him back, but—”

  She was off like a shot to grab her cell from the charger on the desk.

  “But,” he repeated, stopping her with a hand on her shoulder. “He also gave me a message to give you.”

  Abbie set the phone down, her dark gaze sharp and searching. “What did he say?”

  “He said the cops spoke to an employee at the market where Long used to work. The kid told them that Long is definitely in Los Angeles. Not in Las Vegas, not in Oklahoma—” He nodded at the TV set. “And not crossing the country to get to you.”

  “This employee saw Danny?”

  “Apparently. He handed the kid a hundred bucks to play arcade games.”

  “A hundred dollars for video games?” she repeated incredulously. Brows furrowing, she moved to the sofa to pick up a white towel, then daubed her face, thoughts moving through her troubled eyes like a computer compiling data.

  “Okay,” she said after a time. “Okay. He can be generous when he cares about someone. And he’s obviously able to hide his manic tendencies when it suits him.” She drew a breath and nodded. “Okay. Okay, good.”

  “You still have doubts.”

  “Only until he’s behind bars.”

  Jace had doubts of his own. Then again, maybe he just wanted to have doubts. He’d gotten used to having her around—just for company—and if she wasn’t at risk, there was no reason for her to stay. Stuart McMillain’s closing words came back to him, strangely unsettling. We’re all hoping this terrible business is settled soon so she can come back home. We miss her.

  Abbie picked up her phone again. “I should probably call Stuart back.”

  Jace nodded. The other thing she should probably do was change into something that didn’t shut down his lungs. “He said to call him at home. I’ll be in my shop if you need me.”

  “What are you building?”

  Nothing complicated, that was for sure. “Just a tabletop for now. I’ll be back in a little while.”

  Except his feet wouldn’t move away from all that black spandex, and he fumbled for a reason to look at her a little longer. Or maybe what he wanted was her assurance that she wasn’t going to pack up and move back to her dad’s place. “Want to grab dinner at a seafood place tonight?”

  Abbie met his eyes. Did that mean he wasn’t planning to throw her out? And if not, why wouldn’t he want her to leave? It had been three days since their tumble into lunacy on the porch, and absolutely none of the stress and dicey awareness had faded. They’d even drawn a few curious looks at last night’s food bank meeting, but no one had commented on their living arrangements—probably because Jace would’ve shut them down if they’d pried.

  “I’d like that,” she said finally. “I didn’t realize there was a seafood place in town.”

  “There isn’t. This one’s a few miles north, but their Saturday buffet’s pretty good. They start serving around five.”

  “Okay, what time should I be ready, and what’s the dress code?”

  He gave her outfit a long, slow once-over. “Anything but what you’re wearing will be fine. If you show up in that getup, every man in the joint will go up in flames.”

  When he was gone, Abbie let her eyes drift shut, told her heartbeat to settle down and reminded herself that this was a temporary arrangement. Then she took off her headset and CD player, laid them on the desk and picked up her phone.

  “Abbie,” Stuart answered heartily after more than a half dozen rings. “Sorry for the delay. I was helping Margaret with the shrimp for this evening’s barbecue.”

  “No problem,” she replied, envying Stuart’s forty-year-marriage to his college sweetheart. Envying their contented life when hers was such a mess. She mustered a smile. “Jace said you phoned. I understand it’s time to put my doubts to rest.”

  Dinner at The Sassy Seas had been delicious, Abbie thought the next day as she shifted clothes from the washer to the dryer and set the timer. But all the scallops, crab legs and drawn butter had destroyed any benefits she might’ve gained from her workout. Today, she vowed to eat sensibly. If this kept up, she’d be on cholesterol medication by the time she returned to L.A.

  The kitchen door opened and closed, and Abbie froze for a moment. Jace had been in his shop most of the morning, sawing and routing and sanding, and basically keeping a boatload of distance between them. Their daylight drive to the restaurant had been fairly stress free. But on the dark trip home, tension had turned up like that proverbial bad penny, and the copper had been red hot. And neither of them had broached the subject of her leaving.

  His low grumble came from the doorway between the kitchen and utility room as she tossed a load of jeans into the washer. “I told you I’d take care of those. You’re not here to do my laundry.”

  “I’m not doing your laundry, I’m doing our laundry.”

  “Dammit, Abbie—”

  A horn blared and honked and beeped all the way down the driveway, snagging their attention before they could get into a verbal tug of war.

  He glanced out the window—and his impatience vanished. “It’s Ty,” he said, his voice warming. “And he’s not alone.” He took her hand. “Come on. You’re finished for the day, Cinderella. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

  Moments later, he was helping his foster mother down from the cab of Ty’s truck and chuckling. “Look what the wind blew in.”

  Laughing, the short, sandy-haired woman in the jeans, pink shirt and denim jacket eased up on tiptoe to give Jace a hug and a big noisy kiss on the cheek. “Happy birthday, Jacey.”

  “Thanks,” he said, grinning and returning the kiss.

  Today is his birthday?

  Ty came over to shake Jace’s hand. “Happy birthday, big brother, but if you don’t mind, I’ll pass on the kiss. We brought Chinese for lunch and birthday cake for dessert.” Reaching into the bed of the truck, he produced a huge carton and a bakery box. “We grabbed four different entrées so we could have a buffet.” He handed the carton to Jace and grinned. “I’ll take care of the cake.”

  “Ma,” Ty said before Jace could introduce her, “this is Abbie Winslow. Abbie, Betty Parrish—or Ma, or Mother Teresa. She answers to whatever you call her.”

  Laughing again, the petite woman with the sunny Florida tan shook Abbie’s hand. “Just plain Betty will be fine. Nice to meet you, Abbie—but I believe I do know you. You went to school with Ty.”

  “Same grade, but always different rooms. And it’s nice to meet you, too.”

  Releasing Abbie’s hand, Betty glanced at Jace, at Abbie, then back at Jace again, a smile crinkling the skin beside her blue eyes. “Well, now. Things seem to be looking up around here. When did all this happen?”

  With a good-natured sigh, Jace nodded her toward the house and fell into step beside her. “Now, don’t get nuts and start hunting up a preacher. Abbie’s just a friend. She’ll be flying back to L.A. in a week or so.”

  And though everything he’d said was true, Abbie’s heart sank like a stone.

  Chapter 10

  After they’d eaten and embarrassed Jace by singing “Happy Birthday,” talk had turned to family business, and Abbie had felt like a fifth wheel. As soon as they’d cleared the table, she’d excused herself to take a walk and make a few phone calls, one of them to her dad’s housekeeper.

  When she returned a half hour later, Ty’s truck was gone, and Betty was in the laundry room folding the clothes that had come out of the dryer. “The boys had to run to the mill to check out a problem with one of the squirrel cages,” she said, smiling. “They shouldn’t be long.”

  Feeling self-conscious because there was a stack of her underwear on the narrow table, Abbie walked to the bar to help Betty fold. “Squirrel cages?”

  Betty grinned. �
�Fans that circulate the air inside the kilns.” She finished folding a pair of Jace’s briefs and added them to the pile. “Actually, I’m glad you came back before they did because I wanted to talk to you alone.”

  Hearing the slightly serious shift in her voice, Abbie assessed her warily. “What about?”

  “Jace, of course. And forgive me if I get straight to the point. I need to say this before the boys get back.”

  Abbie waited.

  “Jace was always a great kid,” she began. “Bright, polite and respectful. But it took him a long time to warm up to us when he came to live with Carl and me. Ty was another story. He was four years younger and desperately needed someone to cling to—well, someone besides Jace. The two of them were practically joined at the hip for years before Jace let Ty try his own wings.”

  She folded the last pair of socks. “You’ve probably noticed that Ty calls me Ma, and Jace calls me Betty.”

  Not sure what this had to do with her, Abbie nodded.

  “Well, despite the bad choices Jillie Rae made, Jace worshipped her. I doubt he could ever see anyone as a mother except Jillie. Jace was devastated when she left them—no matter how unselfish her reasons might have been.” Scooping up the stacks, she set them in the blue plastic basket. “And now you’re wondering why I’m telling you this.”

  Abbie smiled. “It crossed my mind.”

  “I’m telling you because I saw you and Jace come out of the house hand-in-hand, and noticed how he deferred to you during lunch. It was subtle…but I think something nice might be happening between you.”

  Claiming the basket, Abbie spoke breezily. “There is— friendship. Jace told you that.”

  “But I sensed something more, and I just wanted you to know that he’s slow to trust, even today. So if I’m right, be patient, give him time to let it grow.” Her smile warmed. “That’s why I always make a big fuss over the boys’ birthdays, even if it means flying in from Florida. I want them to know that they’re loved, and more importantly, that all women don’t walk away.”

  Abbie averted her gaze, feeling a pang of guilt and wondering if Jace had seen her actions after their night in the gazebo as desertion, too. Had he seen her as another woman who walked away?

  “He’s a good guy,” Betty went on, “but he’s driven to succeed and he works too hard. He’d never admit it because he hates sympathy, but I know he feels he has something to prove to the people of this town. That said, it was nice to see my workaholic foster son at home, enjoying the day.”

  Abbie’s attention sharpened. “Jace is a workaholic?”

  “He was when I left for Florida. And the fact that you didn’t know that says he hasn’t been burying himself in logs and lumber since the two of you hooked up.”

  “Betty, we haven’t hooked up, we’re just—”

  “Friends, I know. But there’s a reason he’s sticking close to home, and I believe that reason is you.”

  Yes, it was, Abbie admitted silently, but not for the reasons Betty thought. Jace had merely been in protective mode, keeping her safe the way he’d kept Ty safe as a child.

  Engine sounds, followed by reflected sunlight flashing through the window and lighting the beige wall broadened Betty’s smile. “Well, how do you like that for timing? They’re back.” She touched Abbie’s arm. “Are you angry with me for sticking my nose in your business?”

  Abbie smiled wanly and carried the basket into the kitchen. “Of course not. But there was no need. As Jace mentioned earlier, I’ll be returning to Los Angeles soon.”

  Jace and Ty were talking as they came inside, saying something about checking the kilns again later. But apparently the problem had been solved because they were smiling. Jace’s smile dimmed the moment he met her eyes.

  Crossing to Abbie, he took the basket and spoke in an undertone. “Something wrong?”

  “Nope,” she answered flippantly, but underneath, part of her grieved for things that couldn’t be. “Betty and I just folded the laundry. Now give it back so I can put it away. I’ll only be a minute.”

  “I’ll take care of my own—”

  Her low murmur cut him off. “Jace, Betty will be leaving tomorrow, and business has already taken time from your visit with her. Let me do this.”

  His strong features softened. “Now I owe you.”

  “No, I’m the one who’s indebted,” she returned, experiencing some of those feelings Betty had sensed. She took the basket back. “I’ll put your things on your bed.” Then she hurried into the great room and climbed the stairs to the loft.

  She’d never been in his room before, respecting his space, as he respected hers. But as was apparent from the floor of the great room, his bedroom was open except for the varnished twig fencing and rails that ran across the front of it. It was beautifully, primitively male.

  Heat coiled in her stomach as she crossed the oak floor. His king-size bed featured a sturdy curved headboard of carved pine logs, and his chest of drawers, dresser and armoire were varnished distressed pine. Intuitively, she knew he’d built every piece of furniture because in style and substance, they were similar to the chest he’d offered her last week.

  Quickly taking his things from the basket, she placed them on the hunter-green rib-cord spread—the only color in the room except for the matching curtains on the wide window facing the back of the house. Then she headed for her own room. Jace’s room plucked at her nerve endings. Not because she was treading on forbidden ground, but because after their romp on his living room floor two nights ago and those midnight kisses on the porch, she wanted to tread.

  She wanted his touch. She wanted his mouth, she wanted all of him. She wanted to crawl into his big beautiful pine bed and shiver and reel, and feel the total completion she’d read about in novels, but had never experienced. The completion she’d never felt with Collin—or with Jace, either time. Yes, she’d felt all the shudders and tingles a woman was supposed to feel when she was well-loved. But that heart-deep feeling of oneness had eluded her even when she and Jace had come together the second time. Maybe because they’d been rushed and were concentrating on the physical. Still, there was something simmering just below the sexual satisfaction—a promise of something wonderful and deeply important. But…it wasn’t for her.

  An hour later, after kisses, hugs and see-you-soons were accomplished, Abbie and Jace waved from the porch as Ty’s Silverado crested the driveway, then disappeared. Betty had wanted to spend the rest of the day and night at her own home and visit with neighbors before catching her return flight out of Bradford the next evening. Ty and Jace had coaxed her to stay a little longer, but she’d laughingly insisted that Carl fell out of bed without someone to hold on to, and that she needed to get back. Hearing the affection in her voice, Abbie realized how lucky Ty and Jace had been to land in loving arms when Jillie Rae left them. She knew that not all foster children were that fortunate.

  Jace turned to her. The mid-March day was still sunny, the last of the snow running in narrow rivulets across his gravel driveway. “So, what do you want to do for the rest of the afternoon?”

  Abbie jerked a look at him, remembering what he’d said about returning to the mill, and trying—for her own sake— not to place too much importance on his question. “Aren’t you going back to work?”

  “Nope. John’ll call if there’s a problem.” He paused, then scanned her pale yellow sweater and jeans. “Grab a jacket and slip your boots on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Someplace where it’s wetter and cooler,” he said, his gray eyes teasing.

  “Okay,” she laughed, ready for an adventure. “I’ll be right back.”

  She was just pulling her jacket on when Jace rushed inside. “Wait for me on the porch while I get my field glasses. They’re early this year.”

  “Who’s early this year?” she called back.

  Minutes later, sharing his binoculars, they watched a springtime courtship in the sky over his yard, enjoying the steep aeria
l climbs and death-defying downward plunges of coupling marsh hawks.

  After several repetitions, Jace chuckled softly. “Gives new meaning to falling in love, doesn’t it?”

  Smiling, Abbie returned the binoculars. “Lucky for them, they can pull out of the dive before they hit the ground. People aren’t that fortunate.”

  He assessed her curiously. “Talking about anyone in particular?”

  “Yes. Me.”

  He didn’t ask her to elaborate until they’d walked down the damp, leaf-strewn path behind his home, following the small creek that sprang up a hundred yards from the pavilion. The air was cool and damp, and lingering patches of snow lay in the hollows below the bare maples and shaggy hemlocks. Abbie heard the rush of water somewhere nearby.

  “So, why didn’t you pull out of the dive before you hit the ground?”

  “Had my head in the clouds. I thought I was in love.”

  “Oh?”

  She nodded. “Looking back, it was more like admiration and infatuation. Collin was—and still is—one of the most talented lawyers in L.A. So when he asked me to marry him, I said yes. I was twenty-eight and I had this weird idea that it was time for me to marry and start a family. But…we both had busy practices and didn’t take the time to make the marriage work.”

  “Were you together long?”

  “Two years.” She picked her way over a mushy stretch of the path, then glanced at him. Her pulse did a silly little skip. Here in the woods with the blue sky skimming the tree tops and the rustle of spring awakenings around them, Jace was in his element. Dressed in jeans, boots, a dark gray flannel shirt and his down vest, he couldn’t have looked more blatantly male if he’d tried.

  “So what happened?” he asked.

  “Besides apathy, you mean? He changed his mind about wanting children. I tried to change it back, but in the end he decided we didn’t have enough in common and bailed out.”

  “Not every man wants kids.”

  Abbie stopped briefly. “You?”

  “Yep. I have no desire to replicate myself.”

  “But why?”