by Mae Nunn
“Those are just some ideas I scribbled this morning.”
“They’re very impressive. You’re a fashion designer.”
“So far I’m just a student. I work at Mae B’s to pay my tuition, but yes, eventually I want to design professionally.”
“Seems to me that you’ve already started.”
“It took me a while to figure out that’s what I want to do with my life. Actually, it’s because of you that I did.”
CHAPTER NINE
“ME? HOW DID I influence you?”
Brittany hesitated, as if she regretted her blurted admission, but then she lifted her chin, wiped her palms on her shorts and gave him a crooked smile. “This might sound strange, because you probably don’t realize how big an impact you made on me when I was a kid. I didn’t have the nerve to tell you then, but I envied you.”
Of all the things Brittany might have said, that was the last one Jesse expected. “You envied me?”
She nodded. “You were so brave. You did whatever you pleased, and no one pushed you around.”
He restrained himself from snorting. She’d never observed his father in action.
“When I saw you on your motorcycle, I used to wish I could ride away like that. I wanted adventure, and freedom, and—” She halted. “I’m sorry. That sounds really lame when I say it aloud.”
Not as pathetic as his old fantasies about her. He gestured toward a sketch of a long, red dress. “I don’t recall wearing stuff like that when I rode my Harley, so how did I steer you into fashion design?”
She laughed the same quick way she did as a child when he employed humor to draw her out, as if she was startled that anyone wanted to listen to her. “That’s not what I meant,” she said. “I set out to search for what I saw in you. Along the way, I happened to find what I really wanted.”
He took the chair she’d cleared off earlier, turned it around and straddled it. He folded his arms across the back. “What were you looking for? The adventure and freedom thing?”
“Yes, but we’ve gotten way off topic.” She pulled out another chair and sat facing him. “You came over to talk about selling the farm.”
Right. That was the excuse he’d given her. “The couple who bought it are retirees from Toronto. They’re not farmers but they’re not deadbeats, either. They shouldn’t cause you any trouble.”
“A lot of retirees from the city end up out here. They want the country lifestyle.”
“Which doesn’t include a junkyard. The buyers made cleaning the place up one of the conditions of the sale. A scrap metal dealer’s coming out tomorrow, and I’ve already started on the house.”
“When’s the closing date?”
“The end of the month.”
“So soon? That’s less than two weeks.”
When he’d agreed to the sale, he felt the date couldn’t come soon enough. He believed it would give him plenty of time to find what he was looking for and end that period of his life for good. He didn’t feel in such a hurry now. “Tell me about your adventure, Brittany. You still haven’t explained how you got into fashion design.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Hey, it does to me.”
“Funny. You still sound as if you mean it. That’s why I used to love talking to you.”
“Well?”
CHAPTER TEN
BRITTANY SIGHED, BRACED her elbow on the edge of the table and leaned her head on her hand.
“Okay, fine, it’s no secret. You’ll probably hear the gossip anyway if you’re here for two weeks. The day after I finished high school, I ran away from home.”
It was a morning for surprises. So far, this was the biggest one. “You ran away from home? This home?”
“Why is that so hard to believe?”
“A lot of people would do anything to have a home like this and a family like yours.”
“Don’t you remember my mom and dad? They were the original helicopter parents even before the term was invented. I know they love me and I love them, but their constant hovering made me too afraid of making mistakes to try anything new. You were different. You treated me as if my opinion counted.”
“You were a good kid. I liked you.”
She pursed her lips. “That’s nice of you to say, but you didn’t really know me.”
“I think I did. I realize there was an age gap, but we had a connection. I considered us friends. I enjoyed every one of our conversations.”
“I did, too.”
“Even though you used to talk through your hair a lot?”
She laughed, keeping her gaze steady on his face. “There, is that better?”
Not exactly. His attention shifted to her mouth. Her lips were plump and moist and as inviting as the raspberries that grew along the south boundary of the Barton place. He used to climb over the fence to steal them. What would she do if he stole a kiss?
He wrenched his thoughts back on track. “So, did you run away to an art school?” he asked. “Montreal? Milan?”
“No, I hooked up with a drummer in a heavy metal band and went on tour with them.”
Jesse’s first impulse was to laugh, because he assumed she must be joking. His sweet, little cherub, touring with a rock band? But her tone was matter-of-fact, and there were those studs in her ears, and purple streaks in her hair. There was also a flash of pain in her eyes. She was dead serious. He took her hand between his, wishing he could kiss away the bad memory. “What happened?” he asked.
“I started managing the band’s wardrobe. I got pretty good at designing costumes. By the time the drummer dumped me, I realized I had been sticking around for the work, not for him.” Her expression grew wistful as she focused on their joined hands. “He wasn’t who I thought he was.”
Neither am I, Jesse thought. She deserves to know....
Heavy footsteps sounded on the veranda. He glanced over his shoulder just as a large man appeared outside the screen door. A uniformed man with a holster on his belt.
Terrific.
There were plenty of reasons Jesse didn’t like cops. Now he could add bad timing to the list.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THERE HAD BEEN few occasions in Brittany’s life when she’d been irritated enough to consider violence. This was one of them. She balled her fists and followed her cousin across the yard.
“What are you doing here, Arty? Did Mom call you?”
He lengthened his stride as he walked to his patrol car. “Keep out of this, Britt.”
“No, I will not keep out of it. You have no grounds for coming to my house and harassing my guest. Jesse’s not obligated to go anywhere with you.”
“It’s okay, Brittany,” Jesse said. “He’s only doing his job. We’ll finish our conversation later, all right?” He swung his leg over his Harley and dug into his jeans for the key. “I assume you know where I live, Constable Reid?”
“Lead the way. I’ll be right behind you.”
The big engine rumbled to life. Jesse lifted a hand to her in farewell and eased the bike down the driveway.
Brittany blinked hard, struck by a pang of loss at the sight of Jesse leaving. Which was absurd. If they were going to his place, he would only be a mile away.
“Go back inside,” Arty said. “This doesn’t concern you.”
She darted in front of him to block his way to the car. “Mom did ask you to check up on me, didn’t she? Why else would you show up here like this?”
“She did call, but I was on my way to see Koostra anyway.”
“Why?”
“I just need to ask him a few questions. Police business.”
“Arty...”
Without further explanation, he stepped around her, got into his car and drove off. Dust s
wirled across the lawn. The chickens squawked and retreated to the lilacs. Brittany shaded her eyes with her hand and watched until the vehicles turned down the road toward the Koostra place.
This was so frustrating. Her family was being overprotective, and they were still treating Jesse like a criminal. They were also treating her like an idiot. Which she had been, and still was a lot of the time, but not in this case. Jesse was a good man. Was she the only one who saw it? He had dropped in here to be neighborly. He didn’t deserve his reputation. He couldn’t choose which family he was born into any more than she could.
Just like she couldn’t choose which man she fell in love with....
Her hands curled into fists again, but this time her frustration was directed at herself. She had to think logically. What she felt couldn’t be love. It was the remnant of her childhood crush mixed together with a very adult reaction to an incredibly good-looking man. She hadn’t seen Jesse for eight years. She couldn’t possibly fall in love with him again in less than a day.
Nevertheless, the sense of loss that had been triggered by Jesse’s departure was rapidly deepening into panic.
Brittany wasn’t aware of making a decision, yet somehow she found herself behind the wheel of her car and barrelling down the driveway.
CHAPTER TWELVE
BRUSH GREW UNCHECKED at the sides of the gravel lane, narrowing it to the point that some of the branches scraped along Brittany’s car. She slowed as she neared the Koostra house. A rusty pick-up truck with no wheels sat in the center of what once might have been a lawn. Weeds swallowed what was left of a picket fence. More rusted-out car carcasses lay haphazardly around the barn. Jesse’s Harley was angled near a large and relatively new-looking Dumpster. There was no sign of Arty’s black-and-white cruiser, which meant her cousin had already finished his “chat” with Jesse.
Or else he’d taken Jesse to the station with him....
Seized by the same sense of urgency that had brought her here, Brittany left her car beside the motorcycle and picked her way through the weeds to the house. It was a clapboard two-story, similar in design to her family’s farmhouse since it was built around the turn of the last century like theirs, but it showed every one of its years. Moss had taken hold on the roof shingles and paint flaked from the siding. The screen door at the front stood ajar, propped open by a bucket with a mop in it. Before she reached the steps, Jesse emerged from the doorway carrying two bulging plastic garbage bags. He halted when he saw her. “Brittany! What are you doing here?”
That was a complex question. She gave the simplest answer. “I was worried about you.”
He dropped the bags on the porch and brushed off his hands. He seemed more surprised by her admission than by her arrival. “You were worried about me?”
“I’m sorry my cousin hassled you. It wasn’t your fault. Ever since he got that badge he likes to throw his weight around.”
“Don’t blame him. It wasn’t personal.”
“How can you say that? This whole town has never been fair to you. If people had only given you a chance and gotten to know you the way I did, you wouldn’t have felt the need to disappear after the trial. You would have stayed here and...” ...and let me love you. Thankfully, she stopped before she completed the sentence aloud. “It wasn’t fair,” she repeated, starting up the stairs.
“Maybe not, but that isn’t what’s going on now.” He grasped her hand to help her past a step where the wood had rotted away. “Your cousin wanted to talk to me about my father, that’s all.”
“Your father? Why? The police know you weren’t an accomplice. You proved your innocence. The case was closed years ago.”
“Not entirely.”
“But—”
“Emile gets out of the penitentiary in November. The cops assume he’ll come after the money.”
“You mean the loot from the robbery? I thought that was just a legend.”
Jesse tightened his grasp on her hand to lead her into the house. “Let me show you something.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE AIR INSIDE the Koostra house was heavy with the scent of pine cleanser—Jesse had evidently been busy—but eight years of accumulated dust wasn’t the only problem he faced. There were holes in the walls. And in the floor. They didn’t appear to be from rot, like the hole on the step outside. Brittany followed Jesse down a short hall to a small room that the original builders had likely intended as a parlor. The destruction was worse here. One lathe-and-plaster wall had been ripped apart entirely, exposing aged wooden studs and part of the kitchen beyond them.
She remembered the occasional lights she had seen in the abandoned house. It was easy to guess what had happened. “This must have been done by treasure hunters.”
“Uh-huh. It sure wasn’t mice. My real estate agent downplayed the extent of the damage when he listed the place. I hadn’t realized how bad it was until I got here. It’s a wonder anyone would agree to buy it.” He snorted a laugh. “On the other hand, maybe those retirees who bought it are counting on finding the money themselves.”
“Then the story about the loot is true?”
“Between the cops and the jerks who trashed this house, the whole property was gone over dozens of times. If the money was ever here, chances are it’s not anymore.”
“If it was here? You don’t know for sure?”
“My father didn’t confide in me.” He stooped to pick up a chunk of plaster from the floor and dropped it in an open garbage bag. “But I know my old man. He had two months between the robbery and his arrest. It wouldn’t surprise me if he lost every penny of what he stole.”
“It was more than three million, wasn’t it?”
“Three million, six hundred and seventy thousand plus change, but he liked to gamble. He wasn’t much good at it. Every dollar he got hold of went to feed his habit.”
“I’m sorry, Jesse. That must have been so hard on you.”
“The only reason we didn’t end up living in one of his junked cars was because this farm belonged to my mother, not him. She knew how he was. She willed it directly to my sister and me so we’d at least have a roof over our heads when she was gone.” He took a deep breath, rubbed his face hard, then dropped his hands and looked at her. “I didn’t mean to go on like that. It’s this place. I’ll be glad to be rid of it.”
“I shouldn’t have complained about my own family to you. What you went through...I can’t even imagine.” Yet that wasn’t true, because she could all too readily imagine the deep scars Jesse carried from his childhood. It was a testament to his character that he’d grown into such a strong and sensitive man.
“We were some pair, weren’t we, Brittany? You envying me, and me envying you.”
She started. Had she heard him right? “You envied me?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“YOU’RE BIG ON FAIRNESS,” Jesse said. “After the way you told me about your stint with the rock band, it’s only fair if I come clean with you.”
But Brittany hadn’t told him everything. She’d omitted the fact that the drummer she’d run off with had blue eyes and blond hair. He also had a motorcycle that he clamped to the back of the band’s bus to transport between gigs. She’d been a fool to think his superficial resemblance to Jesse extended any deeper. No one compared to the man who stood in front of her.
Jesse hesitated, then lifted her hand and brushed his mouth over her fingers. “You weren’t the only one who left town in search of something, Brittany. I wanted what you had.”
The sensation of his lips against her skin made it hard to concentrate on his words. The contact felt more than good, it felt natural. Right. She longed to tell him that this was what she’d been searching for. Him. Jesse. And the way he made her feel. But all that came out was, “What?”
“There’s nothing exci
ting or free about being a grease monkey and living in a junkyard,” he said. “I wanted respectability and a real home like yours. Nobody forced me to leave town, I was happy to go. After the trial, I went out to Calgary to get a fresh start.”
Calgary? “That’s so far.”
“It wasn’t far enough. No matter what I did, I couldn’t seem to shake off the taint of where I came from.”
“Don’t say that. You’ve always been a good person. Besides, this place isn’t so bad. There’s nothing that some paint and a truckload of new lumber wouldn’t fix.”
He smiled. “My sweet, little Brittany. You see good in anything.”
“Only when it’s there, Jesse. And don’t talk to me as if I’m still a child. I’m a grown woman, in case you haven’t noticed.”
His smile broadened. “Believe me, I’ve noticed.”
Brittany had always loved Jesse’s smile. She’d dreamed of it often when she was younger. It didn’t merely deepen his dimples and crinkle the skin around his eyes, it gave her a glimpse of the kind, gentle young man she adored. He smiled like a friend who was happy to see her, who wanted to comfort her over the silliest of her worries or celebrate the most trivial accomplishment.
But she had never seen him smile this particular smile before. He hadn’t needed to be reminded she had grown up, because he clearly wasn’t regarding her as a child. She was old enough to realize that his gaze was focused on her mouth as if he wanted to...
Yes! Yes! Kiss me, Jesse.
He raised his hand to her temple and tunneled his fingers through her hair. “It looks good short.”
“So does yours.”
He followed the curve of her ear, rubbing his thumb along the studs on the rim. “These suit you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Somehow they make you look even sweeter.” He paused. “I have a confession to make.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
WHAT CONFESSION? THAT you want to kiss me? I know. I see that. Go ahead. Please.
