by Davis, L. C.
"Well, I'm glad you're here. I'd like you to meet Holden Adams, the new fellow in town. Holden, this is Daniel St. James, our resident animal whisper," she said, linking arms with both of us.
"We've met," he said in a dry tone that made me second guess the urge to tell Carla how we'd met.
"We have," I agreed. That seemed like the safest answer.
Carla looked between us, bewildered. "Oh?"
Before she could put the pieces of the puzzle together, an older man with salt-and-pepper hair came to stand at her side. The years had been kind to him, and his muscular build was obvious even in the confines of a well-tailored suit, but it was his eyes I noticed first. They were the same strange golden hue as Nick's, only his were much sharper.
"You must be the one my wife won't stop talking about," he said in a gravelly voice, extending a hand to me. I shook it, surprised at the firm but gentle grasp that met mine. "Lucas Whitaker."
"Nice to meet you, Mayor Whitaker," I said, forcing a smile. He had unknowingly come to my rescue, but only time would tell whether he was going to pick up a pitchfork and join Daniel's crusade.
Those eyes seemed to be sharp in more than just appearance. I could tell Lucas was assessing the situation or at least picking up on the tension that hung between us. His focus settled on Daniel. "Something wrong? I heard you wanted to speak to me."
Daniel frowned, evidently as confused as I was about how Lucas could have known when Daniel had just told Carla himself. It was hard to hear anything through the hum of conversation all around us.
"Yes," Daniel said, less confident than he had been a moment ago. His gaze flickered over to me, then back to Lucas. "In private, if you don't mind."
"I'm sure whatever it is can wait until I've had the chance to welcome our new resident properly." His words were polite, but his tone was chilled. He stared Daniel down for a moment before the doctor seemed to give in, casting a last withering glance my way before excusing himself. "Later, then," he said, retreating into the crowd.
"I hope the doctor isn't giving you trouble," Lucas said, offering me a glass of wine. "He means well, but he can be a bit brusque."
"It's fine," I said quickly, realizing this might be my only chance to do damage control. "I'm afraid we just had a little misunderstanding at the diner the other day."
"Well, I'm sure he'll get over it," he said, raising his glass. "To new beginnings."
"I'll toast to that," I said, finding myself relaxing a little.
Carla gave me a reassuring smile and took a sip from her own glass. "To new beginnings! Luke, have you seen Nick around?"
"He's running an errand for me, but he'll be here shortly," he said, slipping an arm around Carla's waist. "My wife tells me you met our nephew the other night?"
"Yes, we did," I said, growing nervous for an entirely different reason from the one that had weighed on me when I first walked into the gathering. There was something in Lucas's tone that made me feel like there was more to his words than the question on the surface.
"Wonderful. There aren't many people your age in town," he said, swirling the dark amber liquid in his glass thoughtfully. "We could use some young blood around here."
I smiled and nodded, because how else was I supposed to respond to that? On the one hand, I was glad he didn't seem eager to kick me out of town. On the other, I was beginning to worry that was just because the Whitakers were even stranger than I was.
The front door opened and the appearance of the younger Whitaker turned that apprehension to curiosity. Dressed in a sleek black suit with his dark hair slicked back, Nick looked like he had just stepped off the screen of a black-and-white movie. He was one of those guys you might find leaning against some brick wall in a back alley with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a leather jacket draped oh-so-casually over one shoulder. I realized I was gawking only when I noticed how quiet Carla and Lucas had become. They were both watching me and I knew I had been caught. The couple exchanged a knowing look as Nick walked over to us, casting a quick glance at his aunt and uncle before locking his eyes on me.
God, those eyes...
"Hey, Holden. I was hoping you'd be here."
"It's good to see you, too," Carla mumbled into her glass in a halfheartedly wounded tone.
Nick gave her a sheepish grin. "Hey, Aunt Carla. Uncle Luke."
I watched Nick for a moment, struggling to identify the change in him from that first awkward encounter. It wasn't just the way he was dressed, it was...everything. He seemed less manic, for one thing. His easy demeanor erased any lingering doubts that I had done something to offend him the night before. After everything that had happened with the cat, it felt like so much more time had passed.
"I was just getting to know Holden a bit better," Lucas said, yet again making me feel like he was referring to some conversation I hadn't been privy to, even if I was the primary topic of interest. It was a strange feeling, but I was admittedly too flustered by Nick's appearance to pay as much attention to it as I probably should have.
"Holden sells things on the Internet," Carla said, smirking. "With shipping, I'm sure you two will be seeing a lot of each other."
Nick gave a stilted laugh. "Yeah, well, he knows where to find me. Don't you two have, you know, people to talk to?"
"You're people," Carla said, leaning on her husband's arm with an unapologetically mischievous glimmer in her eyes. "Tell us, Holden, where is it you moved from?"
"Oh, I've been all over," I said carefully.
"You've got a bit of an accent, though," she pressed. "Are you from the South?"
"Mhm. Arkansas," I admitted. I would have lied, but with my luck, Lucas would have a best friend from wherever I claimed to have lived. I had learned that the secret to hiding something big was being as honest about all the little things as you could.
"What made you decide to settle in Stillwater?" Lucas asked, his keen eyes fixed on me once again.
Something told me admitting the real reason wasn't a good idea. "Well, I've always wanted to live in a small town and I really like the wilderness. It's full of things I can use for work. Plants, I mean."
"Plants?" he asked in a curious tone. "You sell plants?"
I realized how much that made me sound like a drug dealer and winced. "Yes, but only legal ones. And I put them in jars." Not much better.
"Oh look, Lisa is showing everyone pictures of the baby again," Nick said pointedly. "Why don't you guys go look at them?"
"Aw," Carla cooed, successfully distracted.
"It was nice to meet you, Holden," Lucas said, clearly onto his nephew's strategy. "Don't be a stranger."
"It was nice to meet you, too, Mayor Whitaker," I said, waving as his wife pulled him through the crowd.
"Sorry about the inquisition," Nick said, running a hand through his hair. "They mean well, but we don't get many newcomers around here, so you're fresh meat."
"So I've heard," I said with a nervous laugh. "They've been very welcoming. Your aunt especially."
"She likes you. She's just a bit of a matchmaker."
Not a very good one if she thought I'd have anything in common with Daniel St. James, but I decided to keep that thought to myself.
"You wanna go outside?" he offered, pointing at the doors that seemed to lead into the kitchen. "There's a balcony where I usually hide out during these things."
"Sure," I said, all too eager to follow him through the kitchen that looked like it belonged in the back of a five-star restaurant and out onto a balcony that overlooked an expansive garden below. "Wow," I breathed.
"Aunt Carla's kind of obsessed with landscaping," he said, leaning on the railing.
"I can tell. I mean, I love plants, but this is incredible."
"That's one word for it. Ostentatious is another."
"Do you live here?"
"Nah. I used to, but the moment I turned eighteen, I got my own place in town," he said, hopping up onto the railing like he didn't care about the fact that i
t was easily a fifty-foot drop. "I grew up here, but all this isn't really my thing."
"So you lived with your aunt and uncle before?" I asked, realizing I was in danger of doing the very thing I hoped to avoid. Prying.
"Yeah, most of the family lives here. It's kind of a weird setup."
If he thought that was going to diminish my curiosity, he was even worse at the whole mysterious thing than I was, but I decided not to push it. I leaned against the balcony and tried not to look like a coward, even though I was much too short to go over the railing.
"So, tell me about yourself, Holden. Did you really come here for the plants?" The way his eyes shone in the moonlight made it pretty damn clear he knew I was lying, but he didn't seem offended, at least.
"No," I confessed. "Honestly, I came here because I wanted to go somewhere that was the complete opposite of the place I grew up in, if that makes any sense."
"It does," he said thoughtfully. "A lot, actually."
Normally, silence made me uneasy unless I was enjoying it alone, but being around Nick was almost as easy. "So," he began, "I hear you're a cat thief."
"That damn doctor can't keep his mouth shut," I muttered.
Nick gave a hardy laugh. "To be fair, I'm usually the first person he calls to bitch to."
"You're friends?" I did a poor job of hiding my shock, if his grin was any indication.
"Daniel's an acquired taste, but he's a good guy. Just a little..."
"Obnoxious? Overbearing? Judgmental?"
"I was gonna say crusty, but yes to all the above. Sorry about the diner. I heard he laid into you pretty bad."
"That's putting it mildly."
"He's just a little overprotective of this town. Thinks he's its self-appointed guardian or some shit." He looked me over, tilting his head. "Did you really take that cat from his office?"
"Yes, but in my defense, I was the one who brought it in."
Nick shook his head. "Man, you picked the wrong day to piss him off. Daniel holds a grudge like no one's business."
"Good to know," I said with a sigh. "If you're such good friends, do you think I'm a charlatan, too?"
"Nah. I've got a good feeling about you, and my gut's never wrong." He shrugged. "Besides, I'm pretty sure I saw that cat wandering around earlier and he was fine. I don't exactly believe in miracle cures, but whatever you did obviously worked."
"You saw him? Where?" I asked hopefully.
"Outside Daniel's place, actually." He laughed.
"What?"
"Just thinking about the look on his face when he sees that thing. He's convinced you're keeping it in your freezer or something.
I grimaced. "Glad I'm making such a positive impression in my new town."
"Aw, don't worry about it. You've made a good impression on the people who count."
"Your aunt and uncle?"
"Them, too." He grinned.
I couldn't help but smile. Cocky son of a...
Nick's phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out, frowning. "Sorry, I've gotta get going."
"A prior engagement?"
"More like someone is coming who I'd rather avoid." He paused. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"
"Nothing much, really. Why?"
"There's not a lot to do in Stillwater, but I could give you the tour after work. We could grab something to eat after."
I hesitated, mostly because I was sheltered enough that I was having a hard time figuring out whether he was asking me out or just being friendly. Before I could ask, he added, "And yes, it would be a date."
My face grew warm and I hated how easy it was for me to turn into a blushing schoolboy talking to a crush around him. Looked like my gaydar was off, after all. "Yeah, that sounds nice."
"Cool. I'll pick you up at seven."
"You know where I live?"
His face went blank. "Yeah, Aunt Carla told me."
"Right." I laughed. "Of course. Small town."
"Hope you don't have any deep, dark secrets," he teased.
I forced a smile but found that familiar feeling of dread creeping in again. "Oh, just a few."
After Nick left, the mixer lost some of its appeal. I found myself lingering on the balcony, enjoying the view more than the idea of mingling like I should have been. Barely a week in Stillwater and I had already made an enemy and a dinner date. I was still struggling to figure out how I felt about that when the balcony door opened and out walked the white-haired man Daniel had been talking to when I first arrived.
Maybe my initial assessment that Stillwater wasn't a hot spot for eligible bachelors was off. The man in the door was nothing short of a marble statue with smooth skin that was nearly as white as the sleek hair falling over the shoulders of his sharp gray suit. He looked like the god of winter, gracing a mortal dinner party on a whim. I had half a mind to ask him where he got his hair bleached when he scanned the balcony and gave me a slightly disappointed smile when he realized whoever he was looking for wasn't out there.
"Sorry to disturb you. You wouldn't have happened to see the mayor around anywhere, would you?"
"He was downstairs by the fireplace last I saw him."
"Always slipping his leash," he mumbled. "Well, enjoy your evening."
"You, too," I said, blinking at the door as it fell shut behind him. What a strange person. Maybe I would fit in alright, after all.
Six
Nick showed up on the front porch at seven on the dot. Mrs. Marrin was out playing bridge with her friends, which I had learned was her Sunday night ritual. Nick looked dapper as ever, if considerably more casual than he had the night before in a button-down and jeans sans the oil stains.
"Hey," he said, giving me that smile I could easily see becoming addicted to. "You look...wow."
"Thanks," I said, stepping down off the porch. "You look pretty wow yourself."
He snorted, glancing back at the house as he helped me up the slope that led from Mrs. Marrin's yard onto the dirt path. "You really decided to commit to the rural experience, huh?"
"I did. So, did you successfully escape whoever you were trying to avoid at the party?"
"Yeah, but I'll run into her eventually. Small town, you know?"
"Oh, yeah. It's a bit claustrophobic, isn't it? Everybody knowing everything in your past."
"You have no idea," he murmured. It was only then that I realized he hadn't let go of my hand. I found myself hoping he wouldn't, either. "So, you've already seen the town square, but I'll give you the insider's perspective," he said with mock gravitas. "That's the butcher shop, owned by Alec Meridan. He's the nicest guy you'll ever meet, but God help you if you get him started on the war."
"Which war?"
"Doesn't matter," Nick said with a glimmer in his eyes. "Hell, I did two tours in Iraq after school and he still tells me what it was like."
"You were in the military?"
"Army."
"Is that how you became friends with Daniel?"
"Nah, he was out long before I went in. We go way back. He had a legendary bromance with my brother, Brent, who you'll incidentally find there," he said, pointing toward the police station as we passed it.
"Oh," I said, unsure of whether condolences were in order.
Nick laughed. "He's the sheriff. My cousin's the deputy, actually. Well, one of them."
"Is there any official office in this town that isn't held by a Whitaker?" I half-teased.
He seemed to be seriously considering it. "Town clerk and a couple of cops. There's the head of the schoolboard, but I'm pretty sure we're distantly related somehow."
"That's impressive."
"It happens when your family built the town," he said with a shrug.
I suddenly realized Nick hadn't been exaggerating when he said I'd made a good impression on the right people. From what I could tell, the Whitakers were the people where Stillwater was concerned.
"You all seem close," I murmured. "It must be nice."
"Sometimes. Like you
said, it can get a little claustrophobic."
"Why did you come back after the Army?"
He hesitated.
"If it's not too personal," I added. For someone who kept secrets, I really had a bad habit of asking too many questions.
"It's not. Like I said, everyone here knows my past anyway," he murmured. "It's hard to explain, but this town has a way of pulling you in. I love it," he added quickly. "Family is everything to me, but..."
"But it's complicated," I offered.
He gave me a grateful smile and came to a stop in the middle of the town square. "Alright, the tour. That's the library," he said, gesturing to the sleek glass-paneled building. Despite its small size, it was obvious Stillwater wasn't lacking in public funding. It looked like there were perks to having the town run by a family as wealthy as the Whitakers seemed to be. "There's the vet clinic, which I don't need to tell you," he teased, continuing on down the row of shops until I had a grasp not only of the amenities the town had to offer but a bit of dirt on each of the proprietors.
"What's that?" I asked, nodding to the professional looking office next to the tailor's shop.
Nick stopped walking and a strange look passed over his face as he watched the building through narrowed eyes. "That's the local ambulance chaser's office."
"He must not have a lot of business in a town like this."
"You'd be surprised," he scoffed. "He does most of his work in the city, though."
"Burlington?"
"Yep. He's always going back and forth, but he keeps his offices here. God knows why."
I squinted to make out the white print etched into the glass panel on the front door. Dennis Mills, Attorney at Law. Dennis. Because life loved nothing more than reminding me of my failures when I'd finally started to put them behind me. I reminded myself that it was a common name and I'd have to find a way to get through life without being triggered by it. "Mills," I murmured. "That wouldn't be any relation to the golf course I passed on my way into town, would it?"
"One and the same. The Mills is the most exclusive country club in the northeast region," he said in the snooty tone of a commercial voiceover. "He owns that huge glass house in the woods. You can kind of see it from my aunt's garden."
