The Promise of Home (Love Inspired) (9 page)

“I’m going out again in a few days,” Dev said, knowing it would make her happy. “There’s a litter of coyote pups I’ve been keeping an eye on.”

He frowned at Violet, whose whine had begun to rise in volume and intensity. He gave in and opened the door. “Don’t wander off.”

Talia cleared her throat. “One of my customers suggested you compile your photographs into a book.”

Dev watched Violet hurtle across the lawn as if she’d been shot out of a cannon. He had no trouble guessing her destination. “Bye, Talia.”

“Are you avoiding the issue or do you have a date?”

An image of Jenna’s face flashed in Dev’s mind and he deliberately set it aside. There was no way he could label the evening they’d spent together a date. Even though he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Or Jenna.

“I have a dog…or at least I
had
one. She just ran away.”

“Fine. But if you don’t call me back by the end of next week, I’ll be showing up at your door.”

“Thanks for the warning.” Dev shook his head and hung up the phone.

There was no sign of Violet.

As he followed her footprints down the shoreline, Dev pictured a kennel next to the garage. There’d been no need for one in the past, but Jenna had made no secret of the fact that she wasn’t a dog person…

Dev heard a shriek.

Wolf? Spider? Broken nail?

He crossed the property line in time to see Logan and Tori charge around the cabin.

Only Violet wasn’t the one in hot pursuit this time.

Jenna was.

Chapter Nine

A
t least, Dev
thought
it was Jenna.

He wasn’t quite sure, given the fact that this woman was barefoot. A ponytail streamed behind her like a flag. The bright pink tank top she wore matched the color in her cheeks and faded denim shorts showed off her tanned, sculpted legs to perfection.

She was also armed with a squirt gun the size of a small cannon.

Logan spotted him first and skidded to a stop. “Hi, Dev!”

Tori collided with her brother, who collided with Jenna. All three fell down in a tangle of limbs.

Dev waded into the fray, grabbing hold of Violet’s collar before she could join in.

Jenna rolled to her feet, breathless. A smile shimmered in her eyes, reminding him of the play of sunlight on water.

“What’s going on?” Dev managed to find his voice.

“We’re painting my room.” Tori giggled.

“I thought painting involved a brush.” Dev lifted a brow at Jenna.

A deeper rose shaded Jenna’s already flushed cheeks. “We finished a little while ago. The paint has to dry before we can move everything back.”

“We’re cleaning up now,” Logan said.

Dev eyed the squirt gun tucked under Jenna’s arm. “Most people use the shower.”

“It was Aunt Jenna’s idea.” Logan picked himself up off the grass. “She said this would be more fun.”

“We have another squirt gun if you want to play,” Tori offered. “You can be on Aunt Jenna’s team.”

Dev jerked as a stream of cold water hit his foot. He traced it to the barrel of Jenna’s squirt gun.

“Sorry,” she gasped. “I didn’t mean to pull the trigger.”

Dev had no doubt it was a response to Tori’s innocent invitation but he let her off the hook. “Actually, I came over to get Violet.”

At the sound of her name, the dog’s soggy tail began to wag. Dev gave her a stern “we’ll talk about this later” look.

Tori’s face fell. “Don’t you want to see my room first?”

“Ah…” Dev glanced at Jenna, who was swiping at the wet blades of grass clinging to her knees. No help there.

“It’s pink,” Tori added, as if the color might sway Dev’s decision.

Coupled with a heart-melting smile, it did.

“I’d love to,” Dev heard himself say. “If it’s all right with your aunt.”

“Of course.” Jenna summoned a smile so polite Dev wondered if she’d taken etiquette classes, too.

They trooped into the cabin and Dev tried to hide his reaction. Space-wise, it was half the size of his. The outdated colors and scuffed flooring evidence that the owner had lost interest in making improvements at least two decades ago. But the woodwork glowed and a hand-hooked wool rug anchored a pair of lumpy chairs, the hem of their tweed skirts peeking out below the crocheted afghans tucked into the cushions. Colorful silk scarves hung in the windows like sun catchers.

Jenna had claimed they wouldn’t be staying in Mirror Lake very long, and yet she’d taken the time to transform a dreary cabin into a home.

Dev turned just in time to catch Jenna wringing a drop of water from the end of her ponytail.

There’d been a bit of transformation in her, too.

Jenna waited for Dev to make a teasing comment about the decor.

He smiled instead. A slow smile that made Jenna forget he’d caught her tearing around the yard dressed in one of Shelly’s outfits. The end of her ponytail dripping water like the kitchen faucet.

“I like what you’ve done with the place.”

He capped off the statement with a wink that robbed Jenna of her ability to speak.

Fortunately, Tori took command of the situation, taking Dev by the hand and leading him toward the narrow doorway of the bedroom, where the smell of paint thickened the air.

Jenna fled to her room in the opposite direction to change clothes. She shed the shorts and tank top and pulled a sundress over her head. On her way to the door, she caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror on the wall. Barefoot. No makeup. Her hair a damp rope between her shoulder blades.

If her coworkers at the magazine saw her now, they wouldn’t recognize her. She looked nothing like the picture of the woman in the upper right-hand corner of her column.

At the moment, she didn’t
feel
like her, either.

Which, Jenna told herself, had nothing to do with the glint of admiration she’d seen in Dev’s eyes when he’d accidentally crashed their post-painting cleanup party.

When she returned a few minutes later, Dev was sitting on the floor with Logan, carefully setting up a herd of yellow buffalo that had come with the frontier town Jenna had purchased at the variety store. Tori crouched inside a chuck wagon fashioned from chair cushions, pretending to pour tea into dainty plastic cups.

On the coffee table, a dozen plastic horses grazed on the cover of Jenna’s expensive laptop, their riders keeping watch on the herd of plastic buffalo below.

“Come play with us, Aunt Jenna!” Tori patted an empty space on the rug. Six inches from Dev. Who appeared totally at ease sandwiched between the children and the enormous dog wedged between the chairs.

Panicked, Jenna’s gaze snagged Dev’s. “Play?” she choked.

“Dev said he could stay for a few minutes.”

That’s what she got for leaving them alone. Jenna could imagine Logan and Tori begging him not to leave. Dev wasn’t immune to the power of two pairs of beseeching blue eyes.

And neither was she, as it turned out.

Jenna sat down on the rug, careful to leave a few inches of space between her and Dev. Not easy when his presence filled the room like sunlight.

“Well howdy, ma’am.” Dev’s Midwestern accent melted into a lazy drawl as he tipped the brim of an imaginary cowboy hat. “We hear you’ve been having a problem with rustlers.”

“Rustlers?” Jenna repeated the word cautiously.

“They’re the bad guys,” Logan explained. “If they scare the buffalo, they’ll stampede.”

“That’s bad?” Three pairs of eyes stared at her in disbelief, leaving Jenna with no choice but to rephrase the question. “That’s bad. Very bad.”

“Sure is, ma’am.” Dev didn’t crack a smile. “Because it appears your cabin—” He nodded toward a tiny log house at the foot of the chair. “Is smack-dab in the way.”

Everyone was looking at her again.

“Oh, no.” Jenna saw Dev shake his head and tried again. “Oh,
no!
Save my cabin. And my—” She peered down at the tiny homestead she’d recently inherited and saw a plastic farm animal grazing in what looked to be her front yard. “Peacock?”

“Chicken.” Dev, Logan and Tori said the word at the same time.

Well. She was trying.

Logan puffed up his chest. “What’s the plan, Marshal?”

Dev opened his mouth to speak but Jenna interrupted. “Am I a marshal?”

“Nope.” Logan reached for another cowboy. “Me an’ Dev are the marshals.”

“And I’m the cook!” Tori announced.

“Then what am I?”

“You’re the city slicker with the green peacock,” Dev murmured.

Jenna was about to protest, out of principal, when Logan patted her hand. “Don’t worry, ma’am. You can hide in the well and we’ll take care of these ornery varmints.”

“Ornery varmints?” Jenna mouthed the words at Dev.

“The rustlers.” He pointed to a line of cowboys hiding in the folds of an afghan.

“Oh, right…thank you, Marshal Logan.” Jenna clapped a hand over her heart. “I’ve been so worried about my… chicken.”

With what could only be described as a swagger, Logan moved his cowboy into the path of the buffalo.

Jenna picked up her tiny plastic heroine and tucked her inside the cabin. “I’m not hiding in the well. And just so we’re clear,” she muttered. “I would never wear this shade of red.”

Dev’s low laugh rippled through her. “You’re doing good. For a city slicker.”

They might have been playing a game, but Jenna felt tears prick the back of her eyes.

She constantly second-guessed herself when it came to the children. Watching Tori and Logan the night before, listening to their laughter, made her realize that that she needed to interject some more fun into their lives.

She might not have known that if she hadn’t accepted Dev’s dinner invitation.

Jenna wasn’t used to this kind of imaginary play. Growing up, she had escaped by writing down her thoughts in a journal, never entertaining the possibility that it would eventually turn into a career until Miss Franklin, one of her high school English teachers, had encouraged her to write an essay for a scholarship.

Her idea of fun was curling up on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn and watching the Style channel.

“Everything okay, ma’am?” Dev was watching her closely.

Jenna tossed her head. “Don’t you have some rustlers to catch, Marshal?”

Dev retaliated with a playful tug on the end of her ponytail, as if she were Tori’s age. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Look out! Rock slide!” Tori shrieked.

Styrofoam packing peanuts began to tumble down the cushion and onto the rug.

“We have to stop it.” Logan looked around and grabbed the first thing he saw. Jenna’s latest copy of
Twin City Trends.
He tossed it to Dev, who used it as a shield to staunch the flow of rocks into the canyon.

“It worked.” Logan tossed his coonskin cap into the air.

Dev wasn’t celebrating their victory. He was staring at the cover of the magazine. The headline promised to share the “five favorite hangouts of the city’s most famous faces” with readers.

Jenna nudged him with her elbow.

“Are you a subscriber?” she teased.

“Are you?”

“In a way. I work there.”

“You work for
Twin City Trends.
”

“That’s right. Have you heard of it?”

The smile had faded, replaced by something that looked like disgust.

“Unfortunately.”

Chapter Ten

D
isappointment left a bitter taste in Dev’s mouth.

Half of every issue was devoted to a certain kind of lifestyle, the other half dispensing advice on how to achieve it.

Elaina had lived her life between the covers of that magazine. She dressed like the models. Dined at the four-star restaurants reviewed every month in the foodie section. Shopped at the exclusive boutiques advertised on the glossy pages.

“It’s not what you’re thinking.” Jenna smoothed out a wrinkled corner, collateral damage from the avalanche.

“I’m not thinking anything.”

One golden brow lifted, a sure sign that Jenna didn’t believe him. “
Twin City Trends
is a reputable publication. No UFO sightings or three-headed cows. We give people tips on how to live better lives.”

She was
defending
it. But in all fairness, it wasn’t just the magazine that Dev was struggling with. It was the reminder that Jenna didn’t belong here.

She didn’t belong with
him.

“I should go.” Dev rolled to his feet, careful not to take out the miniature stagecoach parked next to one of the cardboard buildings.

“But you just got here.” Tori hugged Princess against her chest.

“Are you having another campfire tonight?”

Dev heard disappointment in each heavy footstep as Logan trailed him to the door.

“Not this evening, bud. I have other plans.” Like getting his head on straight again. “Come on, Violet. Time to go.”

The dog, who could hear a chipmunk half a mile away, ignored him.

“We can bring her over later,” Logan offered.

“It’ll be easier if I take her home with me now.”

Easier for who,
an inner voice mocked.

“But—”

“Logan.” Jenna put her hand on her nephew’s shoulder, a gentle reminder not to push. “We still have to move Tori’s things back into the room now that the paint is dry.”

Guilt seared Dev’s conscious. “Do you need some help?”

“No, thank you.” Jenna shook her head, her smile polite but guarded. Nothing like the one Dev had seen on her face a few minutes ago when she’d been transplanted into the Wild West.

Logan dropped to his knees and hugged Violet. “I have to go to church tomorrow morning but maybe I’ll see you after that. We can look for crayfish.”

The dog lifted her paw to shake on the deal.

“What do you say we go exploring after supper?” Dev heard Jenna say as the screen door snapped shut behind him.

He decided to take the road home to distract Violet, who shadowed him like a little dark raincloud of gloom, reminding him that the afternoon had been a lot more fun until he showed up.

“Go find something to chew up,” Dev told her.

Violet growled.

Startled by the unexpected response, Dev looked down at the dog. But her gaze was fixed on a man standing under the trees several yards away.

“Can I help you?”

Dev heard a muffled curse. The guy pivoted, fists clenching at his sides. He spotted Violet and suddenly remembered his manners.

“Naw, I was just taking a walk.” The man twitched when Violet padded toward him. “It’s a nice day. Pretty hot, though.”

Especially when you were wearing black from head to toe, Dev wanted to say.

The guy didn’t look familiar, but that wasn’t unusual, considering that Dev didn’t go out of his way to meet the locals.

“This is private property,” Dev pointed out.

“Sorry, man.” The guy smirked. “I didn’t know that. I saw something interesting and took a little detour.”

Violet’s lips pulled back in a snarl. Dev felt the same way.

“Well, now you know.”

“No problem. Take it easy.” He sauntered away, the hems of his black jeans leaving a trail in the dirt.

Dev waited until he passed Jenna’s driveway before continuing on his way. A few seconds later, a car rumbled past him.

The driver flicked a cigarette out the open window and it landed at Dev’s feet. There was no mistaking the shaggy-haired man at the wheel. Dev would have gotten a plate number, but there was a ragged hole in the spot where the license plate should have been.

The guy had told him he was going for a walk. What? To his car?

Dev’s eyes narrowed on the vehicle as it disappeared around a corner.

The sun was still shining and the birds were still singing, but something didn’t feel right anymore. Dev backtracked to the place the guy had been standing when Violet saw him.

Two cigarette butts lay on the ground, proving he’d been there a while.

But why park his car and walk into the woods to smoke a cigarette?

Dev leaned a shoulder against the trunk of the old maple, imitating the position the guy had been in. Through a break in the trees, he could see a slender figure picking up toys in the yard.

I saw something interesting.

Dev’s jaw clenched.

He’d seen Jenna.

* * *

Jenna tossed Logan’s squirt gun into the plastic bin with a little more force than necessary.

What had just happened?

One minute “Marshal Dev” had been saving her cabin from a buffalo stampede, the next minute he’d looked as if he wanted to destroy her issue of
Twin City Trends.

In the past, Jenna had had to deflect the occasional critical comment about the magazine from people who didn’t understand its purpose, but Dev’s reaction hadn’t made sense.

She was surprised he’d even heard of the magazine, given the fact it targeted people living in an urban area.

Logan had disappeared in his room shortly after Dev left, the gentle click of the door as it closed somehow more heartbreaking than if he’d slammed it shut.

He didn’t understand the reason for Dev’s abrupt departure. And to be honest, neither did she.

“Aunt Jenna?” Tori’s lilting voice drifted through the kitchen window. “Your phone is making a noise.”

Jenna’s breath caught in her throat. Was Shelly finally returning her call?

She dropped the paintbrushes into a bucket of soapy water and hurried back inside. The low hum of her BlackBerry guided her to the kitchen table. She snatched it up and read the name on the screen.

The missed call wasn’t from Shelly, but from Marlene Sinclair, the executive editor at
Trends.

Why was she calling on a Saturday…

Jenna yanked a chair away from the table and sagged into it.

Because the deadline for her weekly blog was Friday.

She’d
never
missed a deadline.

The steady thump of Jenna’s heart began to pump in her ears like a bass drum as she dialed Marlene’s number. Her boss wasn’t the type of person who accepted excuses or apologies. She expected her staff to get things right the first time.

Something Jenna had never had a problem with until now.

“Hello.” The brisk, businesslike tone scraped against Jenna’s already raw nerves.

“Marlene? This is Jen—” She didn’t get a chance to finish.

“Jenna, yes. It’s good to hear from you.”

It was?

“I saw that I missed your call and I’m—”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Marlene brushed the prequel to Jenna’s apology aside. “I was calling to talk to you about your blog.”

“I thought so. I’m not sure what happened…” Jenna bit her lip, knowing that wasn’t totally true. She’d had every intention of writing her blog until Logan had turned up missing.

And Dev had invited them over for dinner.

“Have you checked the inbox today? It’s flooded with letters from your readers.”

Jenna expelled a slow breath. “Not yet. And I promise this won’t happen again.”

A chuckle penetrated the rushing sound in Jenna’s ears. “I hope that isn’t true. The readers are used to you being serious, but this piece revealed another side of you. It was fresh. Funny. Everyone loved it.”

Everyone loved what?
Jenna wanted to shout. There must have been some mistake. Maybe Marlene was referring to the column she’d written the week before.

“I have to admit that I had my reservations about you taking time off,” Marlene continued. “But after I read your blog, I’m beginning to think you should stay in Mirror Lake a little longer.”

“I didn’t
post
a blog this week. I—”
Just say it, Jenna
“—missed my deadline.”

“I know, but Dawn intervened on your behalf.”

“Dawn?” Jenna choked out before she could stop herself.

Dawn Gallagher didn’t intervene on anyone’s behalf unless it worked to her advantage. And she’d resented Jenna from the moment Marlene had assigned her the City Girl column. She also had her eye on an upcoming promotion—the same one Jenna had been hoping for.

“I left her in charge while I toured Alex and Bernice Scott’s theater camp for at-risk teens. It took months to get them to agree to an interview, you know.

“Anyway, Dawn forwarded the email you sent to me. She said everyone in the break room thought it was hysterical.”

The only email Jenna remembered sending was a humorous story about Fred. The fish. She’d included it in the note she’d written to Marlene, thanking her for letting her take time off for a family emergency.

She hadn’t meant for anyone else to read it.

“Listen, I’ve got another call coming in. We’ll talk when you come in on Monday.”

And there it was. The reality that Jenna had been trying to avoid.

“I don’t think I’ll be back in the office on Monday, Marlene. My sister isn’t home yet.” She hadn’t shared the details about what had happened with Shelly, only that she needed to take care of her niece and nephew for a few days.

“Dawn offered to take over your weekly column if it’s too much for you right now.”

Of course she had.

Jenna could envision the catlike gleam in Dawn’s eyes. Her coworker turned everything into a competition. It wouldn’t have surprised Jenna to discover that Dawn had printed the story about Fred
hoping
that Jenna’s readers would hate it. When that backfired, she oh-so-thoughtfully offered to take Jenna’s place.

“That’s not necessary, Marlene. I thought I would go through the archives and run some of the favorites again.”

“I suppose I can give you a few more days…but only if you write another article like this one. Apparently your readers like ‘fish out of water’ stories. No pun intended.” Marlene chuckled. “It’s a perfect summer series. Our city girl in the wilderness. Catching fish and fighting gigantic spiders.”

That’s right. Jenna winced. She’d mentioned the spider, too.

“There must be some way you can tap into the quirks of a small town. Find some inspiration for another article.”

Yes, there was.

And Jenna had a sinking feeling that her name was Gabby Bunker.

* * *

“We haven’t received any other complaints of a person fitting that description.”

“But you’ll check into it, right?” Dev followed the harried young officer, who didn’t appear old enough to own a razor let alone a handgun, as he strode across the parking lot to the squad car.

“I’ll get to it. A hay wagon rolled over near the county line and they asked for our help to direct traffic.”

Dev locked down his rising frustration. He’d cornered the officer as he was leaving the police department and told him about the trespasser on Jenna’s property.

“Is there a problem, Trip?”

Dev hadn’t heard anyone come up behind him. He half turned and found his character being measured by a guy who was either ex-military or a cop. Or both. Even in jeans and a paint-spattered T-shirt, the air of authority was unmistakable.

“Hey, Chief.” The officer took advantage of the interruption to dive into the driver’s seat of the patrol car. “I’m on my way to a call but this guy wants to file a complaint. Someone trespassing on his property.”

The window began to scroll up again before Dev could correct him.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks, Chief.” The squad car peeled out of the parking lot, red and blue lights flashing.

The police chief himself.

Thank you, God.

Dev sent a silent prayer to the heavens for sending someone along who might actually take the situation seriously.

Dev had heard the city council had sworn in Jake Sutton, a former Milwaukee undercover drug officer, as police chief the previous year, but until now there’d never been an occasion to warrant a formal introduction. Until now.

Amber eyes swung back to him. Narrowed. “What can I do for you, McGuire?”

“Should I be nervous that you know my name?” Dev was only half joking.

Jake shrugged. “A person who works so hard not to get noticed gets noticed.”