Right now, with the life of lies she was embarking on, she needed the foundations of her existence firmly in place. Addy, the most black-and-white person in the world, had just taken on a life of duplicity. Her boundaries were already pushed beyond maximum capacity.
Add to that, she was back in Shelter Valley. The desert. Where temperature soared to excruciating highs, drying out everything in its sphere. A fire’s breeding ground.
And the land of her personal hell.
She had to have water.
* * *
“GO HELP HER.”
Standing at the sliding glass door that led out to a small private patio and yard separated by a two-foot-high wall from the small private patio and backyard next door, Mark watched the petite woman sitting on the ground reading instructions. Her hair, pulled back into a ponytail, almost touched the ground.
“You help someone do what they can do for themselves, you make them helpless,” he said to the woman who’d just rolled up behind him.
“You let her do for herself, she discovers her own strength,” Nonnie corrected behind him. And then, with a snort, added, “Don’t be an idiot, Mark. You know the context. And that clearly is not something she should be trying to do herself.”
He did know. He also wanted to see what the blonde pixie was going to do next. He’d been home for an hour and on his way out the door to help his new neighbor wrestle the box out of her trunk, when the unwieldy box had slid expertly down the plank she’d set for it.
He’d watched as it landed evenly on a two-wheeler, which she’d then pulled with little effort.
Impressed, he’d walked to the back of the duplex that was larger than the house he’d grown up in back home, expecting to see someone—the husband, maybe—back there waiting to help her.
Instead, she’d opened the box, read the instructions and was now working on putting the thing together on her own.
Fascinating.
In Bierly, the women he knew asked for help first. And got it, too.
No strings attached.
“Go help her, boy. Now!”
And he’d been afraid the cross-country trip would be more than Nonnie’s frail, disease-ridden body could handle.
* * *
“DO YOU MIND if I lend a hand?”
For a second Addy wondered if the heat was getting to her when she glanced up to see the dark-haired, exquisitely proportioned man climbing over her wall from the unit that adjoined her temporary new home.
The navy muscle shirt and navy-and-white running shorts he wore framed his assets perfectly.
Wow.
“You aren’t the older woman who lives there,” she said inanely, certain now that the heat had done a number on her.
“No, I’m her grandson.”
Made sense. The woman probably had family all over town stopping in to check on her—help her out.
Shelter Valley was like that.
She might have been a little kid when she’d been shipped off to Colorado, but even at that young age, she’d been aware of the camaraderie and neighborliness of the folks in the town where she’d been born. A whole group of them had gathered downtown to wave goodbye as she’d ridden off in her grandmother’s car.
“Lucky woman,” she said under her breath, and then winced. That had come out louder than she’d intended. What in the hell was the matter with her? She was around good-looking men all the time. And didn’t care one way or the other.
His grin unsteadied her nerves. “What was that?”
“I said it’s my lucky day.” Addy straightened up to her full height and passed him the sheet of instructions. “If you could just lift that basin, I’ll guide the tube and then I can get the rest.”
She’d just lied. She’d said “lucky woman,” not some tripe about “her lucky day.” Adrianna Keller, straight-and-narrow line walker, had knowingly and deliberately told an untruth for no other reason than to protect herself from further embarrassment.
“I beg your pardon, ma’am, but I don’t think that’s what you said.” His grin had grown into a full-blown smile. But there was something kind about the glint in his eye.
“That’s quite the accent you have there, cowboy.” She figured two could play this game.
“I’m a West Virginian through and through.” Looking from the instructions to the box, Grandson dropped the sheet she’d handed him, bent down and lifted the basin. “Ready?” he asked, as though holding two tons was no effort at all.
Moving more quickly than she’d have figured possible in the heat, Addy did her part. She held the tube and guided it into the basin.
And in seconds, her fountain was in place. Not working yet. The most important ingredient—water—came next. And she had to plug in the power source....
“I’m Mark, by the way.” Gorgeous Grandson held out a hand.
Wiping her sweaty palm on the seat of her shorts, Addy placed her hand in his. And melted a little more.
“I’m Ad...Adele,” she stammered. Not Addy. Or even Adrianna. Not Keller, either. “Adele Kennedy.”
The sheriff of Shelter Valley had advised that they choose a name not unlike her own in case she had slipups. And here she was, slipping up on her very first try.
“I hope we weren’t too loud when we arrived last night. I’d planned to make it in earlier but Nonnie had a spot of trouble in the hotel yesterday morning so we got a late start.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Addy said. “I just got in this morning.”
“You were out of town?”
“I’m just moving to town,” she said, wondering how often he visited his grandmother if he didn’t even know that her neighbor had left.
“No kidding.” His warm, friendly gaze continued to mesmerize her. “We’re just moving in, as well.”
“We? You live with your grandmother?”
His grin faded. “Yes.” His sudden change of stance, arms folded at his chest, told her that he was ready for her if she wanted to make something of the fact that he was a grown man living with his Nonnie.
“I’m sorry.” Bowing her head, Addy took a second and then glanced over at Mark. “I didn’t mean that to sound as though I was shocked.”
“But you were.”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “But probably not for the reason you’d assume. I think it’s great. Just coincidental. I lived with my grandmother, too. Was raised by her, actually. She died a couple of years ago and I still miss her so much.” Squinting up into the sun, she offered more of herself than she should have, considering her new persona—more than she usually did upon first meeting, even when she was living her own life.
His grin was back. “Then you’ll understand if I sometimes seem a little forward. I learned a long time ago that it’s easier to give in to the hand at my back than it is worth fighting it.”
“The older they get, the more strong-willed they become,” she said.
“And more outspoken, too,” Mark added, nodding.
“And the more willing you are to do everything they ask because you know your time with them is limited.”
His head tilted at her words and he studied her silently before saying, “I have a feeling it’s going to be good living next to you, Adele Kennedy.”
Addy smiled, nodded, mumbled something appropriate and wished, just for a second, that she really was Adele Kennedy.
CHAPTER FIVE
HE’D FLIRTED WITH the woman. It had been less than a week sinc
e he’d left Bierly, since he’d sent Ella a goodbye text promising her that he’d be back, whether she waited for him or not.
A text she hadn’t answered.
Balancing the pot holder and small casserole dish in one hand, he raised his other to knock on the door six feet from his own, an apology for the intrusion already on his lips. He’d deliver. And go.
Shelter Valley’s online want ads awaited.
A dead bolt clicked. “What did she make you bring me?”
Adele’s smile reminded him of the Arizona sunshine. Or maybe the sun had blinded his vision.
“It’s a party casserole. My favorite when I was growing up and what she makes for every single special occasion for which she’s well enough to cook.”
He could make it now, too. Just as well. But he didn’t share that tidbit. He held out the dish. “If you’ve already eaten, don’t worry. It’s even better reheated. Gives the flavors a chance to comingle.”
“Your grandmother’s not well?” She took the casserole and set it down on something in the darkness behind her.
“She’s got multiple sclerosis. It’s nothing new. Just more severe as she gets older. The trip across country has caused a bit of a flare-up.”
“Is her condition life-threatening?”
“No.” Nonnie might not be with him forever, but he wasn’t losing her yet.
“Tell her thank you for me, for the casserole.”
He nodded. Stepped back.
“So are you going to Montford?”
She leaned casually against the edge of the door as she spoke. And, standing as she was on the raised ledge leading into her home, her breasts were in a direct line with his eyes. Straight ahead. Right there. Firm and shapely and...
Want ads. Waiting.
“I only ask because I was told that while this is off-campus housing, it’s reserved for students. And if your grandmother’s not well, I figure she wouldn’t be enrolled as a senior student, which was what I initially thought—”
“Yes, I’m enrolled at the university,” he got out—naturally, he hoped—as he dug his brain out of his pants. And then asked, “Do you live here alone?” and when he heard how personal the question sounded he quickly added, “Nonnie said that she saw you unloading your stuff by yourself. She sent the food over, insisting that you were alone and shouldn’t be left to fend for yourself on your first night in town.”
Adele’s brow creased, sending another ripple of desire to his nether regions. “How’d she know it was my first night in town?”
Because we were sitting over there, on the other side of the wall, talking about you. “I told her.”
Afraid she’d make too much of that—or exactly enough—he quickly added, “After she asked.” And to solidify his idiocy, he continued rambling. “I hope you’ll forgive her nosiness but she’s spent her entire life in a town the size of a pea pod and believes that knowing everything about everyone makes her a good neighbor.”
Where in the hell was his reticence? Or any vestige of the intelligence he’d been born with?
“Nonnie? Is that her given name?”
“No. It’s my name for her. My version of Grandma when I was kid. Or so I’m told. But that’s all anyone at home has called her for as long as I can remember.”
“I like it.” She stepped back, taking the door with her. “And yes, I live here alone.”
He glanced again at the empty ring finger he’d noticed earlier that day. Because noticing was free.
Hard to believe a woman as gorgeous as she was wasn’t married.
“And you’re a student at the university?”
“Yes.”
“Since you’re just new to town I take it you’re a freshman? Or are you transferring?”
Was there a chance his new neighbor would be in any of his classes?
“I’m a freshman.” And she was over eighteen. How much older he wasn’t sure. And he wasn’t asking, either.
“I had to work to earn enough money to attend college,” she continued, looking away. “I was a receptionist in a law firm.”
She seemed uncomfortable, embarrassed by her circumstances.
“My grandmother didn’t believe in accruing debt. If you couldn’t pay for it with cash, then you didn’t need it. I heard it so much growing up, I just couldn’t make myself take out school loans. I figured that if I wanted to go to college badly enough, I could save the money. And if, by the time I had tuition money saved, I no longer wanted to go, then Gran was right, I didn’t really need the education.”
“That’s how you can pay for the duplex and attend class? Because you saved enough money to do so?”
“Yes.”
“So why Montford?”
“Horticulture...I’m studying horticulture,” she stuttered. Was he making her nervous?
The sensation wasn’t completely unpleasant.
“Desert plants are full of medicinal properties,” she added more easily. “And Montford has one of the best programs.”
He would have stayed to chat, but he heard the whir of Nonnie’s chair as the old woman moved closer to the door.
Eavesdropping.
Wishing his beautiful neighbor a good-night, Mark went back to his own place to talk to his grandmother about meddling. And manners.
* * *
IF SHE HAD TO COME back to Shelter Valley, at least she was there incognito. As a new student in town, Addy could keep to herself. There was no one to answer to. No flood of decades-old invitations that she’d feel duty bound to accept. Because there was no doubt in her mind that many of the folks who’d seen that scarred little girl off all those years ago were still in Shelter Valley, living and loving in the unique Western town nestled into the desert that surrounded it.
But no one knew Adele Kennedy. No one who would notice that the short route between the university and home, a route with a grocery store on it, was the only route she ventured upon. Will might have reached out to her if he could have done it without jeopardizing her cover. Becca certainly would have.
Thankfully, they couldn’t. Which left her alone to peruse the hundreds of electronic files he’d opened up to her during the week before classes started. She was enrolled full-time for the fall semester. With a horticulture major. Maybe she’d learn something about raising beautiful plants during her stay here.
And maybe... She stopped, looked away from the laptop set up on her kitchen table and listened. There. It came again. A tapping sound. On the shared wall between her and the gorgeous man with the Southern drawl who drove the older but well-cared-for black truck that would fit right in back home in Colorado. Tap. And then again. And again. Over and over. Sometimes with more force than others.
What was he doing over there? Not hammering, there wasn’t enough force. What else did one do that required tapping on a wall?
Except send Morse code to a prisoner on the other side?
Whatever, it wasn’t any of her business. He wasn’t any of her business. As she’d been telling herself repeatedly for the past four days.
She went back to student handbook changes and complaint files. She’d already been through all student discipline actions taken in the past five years, and would search further back if need be. So far every complaint had been handled with no untoward legal implications.
Tap. Tap. Tap, tap, tap.
Addy stopped. So the information on her screen was tedious. She was used to tedious. Actually liked losing herself in tedious. Re
searching tedious information to expose the smallest of inconsistencies was a large part of her job. One inconsistency could be the basis of winning—or losing—a case.
Tap.
The sound was in the exact same spot on the wall. Over and over.
What if Mark wasn’t home? School hadn’t started yet, but he’d certainly come and gone a lot more than she had during the four days they’d both lived in town. What if Nonnie was over there alone?
She’d yet to meet the older woman. Or to speak with Mark again since she’d returned the empty and cleaned casserole bowl.
But she heard them on occasion. Heard the timbre of voices when she left her window open so she could hear the fountain. Heard doors open and close. Heard pipes groan as water ran through them.
She thought of them, next door. Took an odd sort of comfort in their presence.
Not that she needed comfort. Addy had been living on her own for a long time. She liked the solitude.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound came from the back of the duplex, in the kitchen area. She couldn’t just ignore it. Not if Mark wasn’t there. Nonnie was elderly. Sick. And in a wheelchair.
Slipping out the sliding glass door off her kitchen, she knocked on the one next to it. And then, with her hands to the glass, she peered in.
She saw the wheelchair first. An electronically powered one coming straight toward the door. And then she caught a glimpse of the tiniest elderly woman she’d ever seen, sitting upright in the chair that engulfed her, her gnarled knuckles covering what must be the chair’s control.
Upon reaching the door, the woman reached up, hooked her hand around the latch, and with a couple of clicks the door slid open.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but are you okay?” Addy asked, taking in her neighbor’s sharp-eyed gaze with a sharp breath. If she blinked, and focused only on that expression, she could almost be looking at Gran—the only family she’d known from the time she was six.
“Fine, and frustrated and how do you do?” Nonnie said all in one breath, her voice soft, but clearly discernible. “My grandson tells me your name is Adele and I would have been over to greet you myself, but the trip out here zapped me for bit. I’m better today.”
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