He considered. Then he shrugged. "Yeah, sure. I want those eggs."
"Fine, then." She gestured at the chair across from the one where she liked to sit. "Sit down there."
He slid in where she'd told him to and got right to work pouring himself a big glass of juice and piling bacon slices on his plate. Then he grabbed the jam and slathered some on a slice of toast. He shoved the toast into his mouth and stuck a couple of slices of bacon in right after it. Then he grunted in satisfied pleasure as he chewed with stolid concentration, grabbing more toast to pile with jam at the same time.
To Eden, he looked just like what she knew he was: a logger who'd been out in the woods too long, a man who ate most of his meals off of a tin plate with a bunch of other snorting, grunting loggers for company.
She wrapped the pot holder around the handle of the frying pan and carried the pan to the table, where she dished up her single egg first. Then she moved around to his side of the table.
"Excuse me," she said.
He looked up at her in midchew, his mouth so full he looked like an huge, greedy chipmunk—with a black eye. "Ungh?"
Eden sighed and shook her head. "Mr. Jones, what would your mama say?"
The effect of her words was immediate. Jared swallowed, wiped his mouth and hands on his napkin and then smoothed his napkin over his lap. Then he sat up very straight.
"Uh, pardon me," he said sheepishly.
Eden smiled sweetly down at him. "That's quite all right."
It was amazing, really, what mentioning his mother could accomplish. It was that way with the other two Jones boys, Patrick and Brendan, too. Oggie and the boys had worshiped Bathsheba Riley Jones and though she'd been dead for almost a quarter of a century now, one still had only to refer to her in passing to elicit mannerly behavior from any one of her rowdy sons—or her widowed husband, for that matter.
Carefully, Eden slid Jared's four eggs onto his plate.
"Thank you," he said, when she was done.
"You're very welcome."
Eden carried the pan back to the stove and then, after pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee, joined Jared at the table. They ate in silence for a few minutes. And then Eden decided to make another attempt at reaching some sort of understanding with him.
"Jared?"
"Yeah?" He was spreading more jam on yet another piece of toast. He did it slowly and with great care.
"You know, you really did, um, surprise me last night."
"Yeah."
"And, I really would appreciate knowing…"
"What?"
"Well, for one thing, why, exactly, did you arrive so late?"
Jared bit into the toast and chewed with extreme conscientiousness. Then he swallowed. Then he answered, "Decompression time," before he took another careful bite.
"What do you mean?"
Jared shot her an impatient scowl. But as soon as he finished chewing, he explained, "I wanted to get in and get settled before I had to deal with any people. And the only way to do that in North Magdalene is to sneak in after midnight with your headlights off." He put the last of the toast into his mouth and patiently began chewing again.
Eden watched him for a moment. Truth to tell, she was longing to remind him of how frightening it had been for her to wake to the sight of him looming over her bed. However, she wanted him to be reasonable about the cabin. And she wanted him to be in a good mood when she told him about her business arrangement with his father. So as far as last night went, she'd probably better let bygones be bygones.
She continued with her tactful inquiry. "So then, you're planning to move back to North Magdalene?"
Jared narrowed his good eye at her. "Haven't we already been through this?"
"Well, yes. But I'm still trying to understand. Why would someone like you suddenly decide to live in town again?"
Jared shook his head and wiped his mouth with his napkin. Then he stood. "Lady, there's a question mark coming at me every time you open your mouth." He picked up his plate and carried it to the sink.
Eden turned in her chair. "I just feel it would be good for us to come to some sort of agreement about—"
His dish and juice glass clattered into the sink. He turned on her. "Get this straight. It's my business why I do things. What matters to you is I'm back and I'm staying. Here. In my house."
Eden sighed. So much for trying to get along with him. She took her napkin from her lap and tucked it beneath the rim of her plate. Then she pushed back her chair and stood.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Jared Jones demanded.
Eden said nothing. She calmly strode from the room and straight to her little desk by the big window in the living area. From the desk, she took her copy of the rental agreement. Then she returned to the kitchen, where Jared Jones stood, glowering hatefully, by the sink.
She marched right up to him and waved the agreement under his nose. "Not until my sixty days are up, you're not," she said.
"I could rip that thing to pieces right now."
"But you won't. I know you Joneses. You can be mean and rough, but you're not cheats." She gave the agreement another taunting wave in front of his face.
He grabbed her wrist. "You think you know us Joneses."
Eden blinked. His grip seemed to burn her. His palm was rough, scratchy against the tender flesh of her wrist. One side of his mouth had lifted, in that half snarl of his.
"L-let me go," she said, the command sounding shaky and breathy and not convincing at all.
He exerted a little more pressure on her captured wrist, enough to bring her up closer, so he could warn in a too-soft hiss, "You oughtta watch yourself, Miss Parker. You wave a red cape in front of an angry bull, you just might get gored."
She could smell the coffee on his breath, and the soap he must have used when he showered. His face was smoother than last night. He must have shaved…
"You listening to me?"
"Y-yes." She swallowed. "I heard every word you said."
"Good." He breathed the word almost tenderly.
His mouth was very close. She had no idea where the thought came from, but it was there: just the slightest lift of her chin, and their lips would meet…
She asked, "Jared?"
And he blinked. Then he seemed to shake himself. He let go of her wrist. That broke the spell. She was able to step back.
They regarded each other. Eden was trembling. She wanted to order him out. She wanted to throw herself against him.
Again, she recalled the way he had lain on top of her last night. This time, it was more than a recollection of her own terror and, later, her embarrassment, more than the knowledge that he had physically responded to her. This time, she pinpointed her own reaction.
She could desire this man.
Could desire him? Sweet Lord. She did desire him, right now.
And it was crazy. It was totally inappropriate. Completely out of line.
He said, in that voice of his that was as soft and deadly as the hiss of a rattlesnake, "I don't like this. I don't like it one damn bit."
She didn't need to ask him what he meant. She knew exactly what he meant. He didn't like this … magnetism between them any more than she did.
She said, "I agree. Look. Forget the rental contract." She crumpled it into a ball and tossed it in the sink. "Give me the rest of the month, okay? Two and a half weeks. I'll find another place and be out by September first."
He measured her with his undamaged eye, as if trying to decide whether he should trust her. "Let me think about it."
Then, without another word, he turned for the door. Eden stared after him for a moment, as her baffled mind registered the fact that he was walking out, just like he had last night, abruptly and without so much as a "See you around."
"Hey, wait! Where are you going?"
He opened the door and went through it.
"Take your things with you!"
He didn't even pause. Instead, he closed the door
behind him. Outside, she heard the slamming of a vehicle door. Shortly after that, she heard the vehicle start up and drive away.
* * *
Chapter 4
« ^ »
Fifteen minutes after he walked out on Eden, Jared Jones shoved back the door of Lily's Café. He was looking for his daughter, who had worked the morning shift at the café five days a week for the past year and half.
Heather was there, all right, standing over by the cook's window, buttering toast fresh from the toaster. Jared's heart swelled a little at the sight of her. More and more every time he saw her, she resembled her mother, Sally, who had been dead for seven years now.
Right then, as he was thinking how much his daughter looked like her mother, Heather turned with a plate of toast in her hand and saw him. Her hazel eyes—Sally's eyes—lit up. Her smile was Sally's smile.
"Dad!" She tossed the toast on the counter in front of Rocky Collins. Rocky, who spent most of his waking hours at The Hole in the Wall, gasped in pain at the slight clattering sound that the dish made. Jared guessed he was nursing a hangover, as usual.
Heather bounced around the end of the counter, arms outstretched. "Dad, this is great. It's been too darn long." Jared hugged his daughter, moved as he always was each time he saw her. She had turned out to be such a nice, warm, open person.
Heather was twenty-one now. She was married to Jason Lee Conley, her high school sweetheart, and she was about the happiest person Jared had ever know. Around town people called her Sunshine, because she always had a smile on her face. Jared knew lots of people marveled that a kind, sweet young woman like Heather could have had a malcontent like himself for her dad. After Sally died, he'd finished raising her himself. And the way she had turned out was about the only thing in his life of which he was truly proud.
Jared pulled back enough to look down at Heather. "Got a minute?"
"For you, anything." She was still smiling, but the smile wavered now. She was getting a good look at what Eden Parker had done to his eye. She called over her shoulder, "Lily, I'm going outside! I'll only be a moment!"
From beyond the cook's window, Lily shouted, "Don't be all day!"
"Five minutes, max, I promise!" And then Heather was grabbing his hand and towing him through the swinging doors that led to the kitchen and the rear entrance.
There was a bench right outside the back door, in the bright morning sun. Heather sat down on it and pulled coaxingly on Jared's hand so he would join her. He dropped down beside her.
Right next door to the café was Santino's BBV—Barbet, Beauty and Variety. Jared said nothing for a moment as he watched Maria Santino, who ran both the Beauty and the Variety parts of the store, lean out an upstairs window and shake the dust from a throw rug. The Santino family lived on the upper floor. Mrs. Santino spotted Jared and Heather and gave them a wave. Jared nodded.
Heather called, "Hi!" and then tactfully waited until Mrs. Santino had disappeared inside. Then she asked quietly, "Dad, are you okay?"
"Fine."
"But you've … had a fight, right?"
He gave his eye a careful tap. "You mean this?"
She nodded, looking subdued and concerned.
"No, not a fight. Not exactly, anyway."
"Then what?"
"Look. It wasn't a fight. And no one else was hurt, so you don't need to worry."
"You mean you don't want to talk about it?"
"You got it."
"Okay, Dad." Heather closed her eyes, turned her face up to the sun and waited. She was a hell of a girl, his Heather. She knew when to keep her mouth shut—unlike some people he could think of.
Jared remembered she had to return to work in a few minutes, so he went straight to the point. "I hear you rented my cabin."
Heather's eyes popped open and she looked at him. "Did I do wrong?"
"Well…"
Heather was all contrition. "Oh, I knew I should have waited to talk to you first."
"Then why didn't you?"
"Oh, Dad. A lot of reasons. I never know when you'll show up, for one thing. And Eden's such a terrific lady. And Grandpa and Laurie—heck, everyone in the family, really—thought it was a great idea. And Grandpa made it so easy. He stored your things. He also insisted that there's no reason you can't stay with him whenever you come to town. And also, I thought you'd like the extra money." Heather sighed. "But I should have waited, I can see that now."
Awkwardly Jared patted her hand. "It's okay, honey. You only did what you thought I wanted. Don't worry. I'll work it out."
"Dad?" Heather peered at him anxiously. "You didn't … scare Eden, did you? You didn't show up at the cabin in the middle of the night and order her out or anything … did you?"
He coughed. "What do you mean, scare?"
Heather looked at him for a moment more, then shook her head. "Oh, Dad. Is she okay?"
Jared snorted. "More okay than I am."
He watched Heather's face and saw understanding dawn. "Oh, my goodness. She punched you in the eye?"
"Not really. She threw a clock at me."
Heather clucked her tongue. "That Eden. She's something."
Jared leaned his head back against the wall of the café and wondered why he couldn't get more sympathy from his own flesh and blood.
Heather asked, "Dad, I know this is a crazy notion. But since you aren't happy about having a tenant at the cabin, is it possible that you're thinking of moving back to town?"
He took a minute before he answered. "Yeah."
She stared at him. "Really? You're moving back to town?"
"Right."
"Oh," his daughter said.
That oh told Jared everything. When he'd left for the woods two years ago, he'd sworn it was for good. He'd vowed he was through with towns and people, that an occasional visit to civilization was about all that he could take. Judging by his daughter's shock at the news that he was coming home to stay, he realized he must have been very convincing back then.
But that had been a rough time for him. It was right after Belle, his second wife, had taken her two sons and returned to her first husband. He'd had to get away from people then, because he'd been as sensitive as a skinned rattler and every bit as mean. It had gotten so he could hardly walk down the street without ending up in a fight. And he'd been tempted—God, how he'd been tempted—to go back on the booze again.
But things were different now. He was ready now to try once more to get along with the rest of the world.
Beside him, Heather slowly smiled. "Well, okay. Now that I've had a minute to consider the idea, I think it's great, Dad. I'm glad. I've missed not having you around."
Jared squeezed her shoulder. "I've missed you, too. And besides, I've been thinking a lot about your grandpa lately. The past few times I've been to town, he's done nothing but complain that he's overworked running The Hole in the Wall alone. I think it's about time I helped him out a little. After all, the tavern will be mine someday. And he needs to start taking it easy. He's not getting any younger, you know."
Heather was looking at him strangely. "But Dad, I…" She seemed to run out of words.
"What?"
"Er … nobody's told you yet?"
"Told me what?"
Lily chose that moment to stick her head out the back door. "Heather, are you here to work or yak?"
"Be right in." Heather stood up. "Look, Dad, I—"
"I mean it, Heather," Lily insisted. "You got two new couples in the booths and three singles at the counter. They're all gettin' seriously irritated that they ain't even got coffee yet."
"But I—"
Jared took his daughter by the shoulders and turned her toward the door. "Don't be losing you job over me, Sunshine. We can talk later."
"Yeah," Lily said. "Like after her shift's over."
"Okay, Lil," Heather said just a tad curtly, "I will be there in one minute."
"You better," Lily growled, but she did leave them alone.
Heather turn
ed back to Jared. "Dad, I—"
He cut her off. "It's okay. Whatever it is, it can wait a few hours."
"Sure. I guess so." Heather looked doubtful. "Just … um, stay calm, okay."
"Yeah. No problem."
She was smiling again, somewhat ruefully. And then she was going up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Love you. Come for dinner tonight. Six sharp. I'll get Jason Lee to barbecue us some ribs."
"Sounds like a great idea."
"Does that mean yes?"
"You bet."
Jared watched as Heather disappeared through the door into the café, wondering what it could have been that she thought he should know yet was nervous about telling him. Well, whatever she was afraid to tell him, he'd find out soon enough. This was North Magdalene, after all. And in North Magdalene, secrets lasted about as long as an ice cube in a forest fire.
Jared lifted his wrist to find out what time it was and realized he'd run off without his watch, an oversight he blamed on the redhead who'd stolen his house. Because of her, he'd been in a hell of hurry to get out of there. Grabbing his watch had been the last thing on his mind.
He shaded his eyes and checked the position of the sun: around ten. His father, still a night owl even now in his seventies, would be unlikely to show up at The Hole in the Wall until at least noon. Ten to one, the old coot was still sprawled on his bed, snoring away.
Jared decided it was time Oggie woke up. So he walked around the side of the café, climbed into his pickup and headed down Main Street
.
He had to pass The Hole in the Wall before he made the turn that would take him to his father's house. One look at the bar his father had owned since before Jared was born, and Jared knew something really strange was going on.
The tavern was transformed. There was a fancy sign out front that announced The Hole in the Wall in lariat script. Red café curtains hung in the spic-and-span windows. And the several layers of paint that had been peeling off the exterior of the building the last time Jared had seen it were now completely camouflaged by new wood shingles.
Jared swore roundly under his breath and managed to swerve just in time to avoid hitting the fire hydrant on the corner. He was damned anxious to have a few words with the old man now. Something was definitely going on. More and more, it looked as if Oggie would be the one who could tell him just what it was.
MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN Page 3
