Hideaway Cove (A Windfall Island Novel) (25 page)

“Where George is concerned, nothing comes before Windfall Island,” Rose said.

“We both know that, don’t we, Maggie.”

“But—”

Jessi elbowed her.

“Jeez, give me some credit, Jess. I was just going to tell George and Rose they make a real cute couple.”

George blushed to the tips of his ears. “We aren’t a couple.”

Rose looked up at him, smiled, then laughed as she shared a look with Jessi. “George thinks I’m too good for him.”

“George is right,” Maggie teased, “but not because of the money. Because he’s a hypocrite.”

“Maggie,” George said with a combination of guilt and rebuke that only seemed to make her angrier.

“You knew all this time what was going on, and you kept quiet about it.”

“For the same reason you did, Maggie.”

“You gave Dex and me a dressing down for holding out on you, as I recall.”

“Don’t be angry with him,” Rose put in. “I made him promise not to say anything to anyone.”

“You could have gone to the authorities.”

“And tell them what?” George said. “Eugenia Stanhope survived, was taken to an island on the bare edges of society. Then some bootlegger, petty thief, or outright criminal, as most of them were back then, took her in and didn’t ask for ransom from a family who could have bought Windfall a thousand times over? That Clayton Stanhope is looking for these nonexistent descendants in order to have them systematically wiped out so he won’t have to share a fortune that would hardly notice the dent another heir would make in it? That he preyed on a troubled young man to sabotage the plane of someone he doesn’t even know—a plane that is now at the bottom of the Atlantic and beyond any kind of forensic examination?”

As was Mort, Jessi thought—as they all must be thinking. “Well,” she said quietly, “when you put it like that…”

“Uncle Clayton was the first to agree with me that it was time to find out what happened to Eugenia,” Rose said. “He offered up his own blood as the testing sample. As head of the family, he said it was his place.”

“Are you sure it was his sample?”

“Absolutely. First, we are not in any way affiliated with the lab, and while he might be able to buy a technician, why would he? He wants this business over as much as I do, and if he corrupts the comparator, how would he ever know this matter was finished once and for all without killing everyone who knew about it?” Rose shook her head. “That, I’m sure, would be more than he’d be willing to do. And with you all alive, he has numerous witnesses that the search went nowhere. He even decided to hire your Mr. Keegan when Alec suggested it.”

“He miscalculated there,” Maggie said smugly.

“Yes, well, so did I, it appears. I thought it only fair to alert local law enforcement. Mr. Keegan was going in with a disguise of sorts, but still, I didn’t want anyone hurt. Including him. So I reached out to the sheriff, and well…”

“He reached back?” Jessi suggested.

Even as George blushed again Rose laughed. “You are, both of you, delightful. I’d love to get to know you better, when all this is over.”

“If we’re still alive,” Maggie said.

“You and everyone on your island will be safe,” Rose assured her. “It’s why we decided it would be better if George played the bumbling sheriff.”

Maggie shot him an arch look. “He does it really well.”

“I want the culprit to think I’m not paying attention.”

“No offense, George,” Jessi said, “but so far it hasn’t mattered much. Nothing we’ve tried has mattered.”

“He’s smart.” George stared off in Clayton’s direction. “Smart enough to have worked out all the angles.”

“He didn’t bargain on me finding Eugenia’s blanket.”

“What?” Rose curled her hand around Jessi’s wrist.

“Packed away in my attic,” Jessi said. “Pink wool edged with pink satin, has the letters E, A, and S embroidered on it, with the S being bigger and in the middle.”

“Oh, my,” Rose said faintly. “I hadn’t heard about this latest development.”

“Because I haven’t heard,” George said.

“It’s a fairly recent discovery, and I kept it to myself because, well…”

“Because of Benji,” George said, adding for Rose’s benefit, “Jessi’s seven-year-old son.”

“Who will be in danger,” Maggie felt a need to add, “unless you can find out what Clayton is planning.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Uncle Clayton is very smart, and I have to say very suspicious. He knows I’m open to any legitimate additions to the family. If he’s up to something, he won’t tell me about it.”

“Well, I won’t be in danger for long,” Jessi said. “My DNA is at the lab being tested even now.”

“And you don’t think you’re a match?” Rose asked her. “Despite being in possession of the blanket?”

“There’s no resemblance, and there’s any number of ways that blanket could have come to my family. It could have been years after Eugenia was lost.” But even Jessi could hear the worry in her own voice.

“I’m sorry,” Rose’s voice softened with sympathy. “I can only imagine how frightened you are for your son.”

“Getting my DNA tested should take him out of danger. As long as I’m not a match.”

“If you are…” Rose took a deep breath as she grasped Jessi’s hand. “Is it all right if I hope you match?”

“No offense,” Maggie said, “but you already said you don’t know what your uncle is planning.”

Jessi leaned back, peering around the shrubbery in the direction Clayton Stanhope had been, as if seeing that he was still in the ballroom could guarantee Benji’s safety. Instead, she spied Hold, heart-stoppingly handsome in a tuxedo, headed in their direction. For a split second, everything else flew out of her head and she could only stare in confusion.

“Would you look at that?” Maggie said.

Rose followed their line of sight. “Oh, he’s gorgeous, isn’t he? Holden Abbot,” she explained, adding, “Abbot Investments,” when Maggie and Jessi only exchanged a look. “Commodities mostly, but they’ve been in banking and real estate for generations. And of course the charities, which is Hold’s area of responsibility.”

Jessi felt Maggie shift closer to her, appreciated the offer of support even though it didn’t help much. Even she’d heard of Abbot Investments. Hold was one of the wealthiest men in the country, then. That should have some significance, but the buzzing in her head made it almost impossible to think.

“I had what you’d call a crush on him,” Rose continued with a smile, “but he was engaged at the time. That was before he found out his fiancée was only marrying him to get her hands on some of the Abbot fortune. She had a shyster lawyer draw up a prenup with more holes than a wheel of Swiss cheese. Her…charms might have been enough to convince Hold not to look too closely, but his brother, James, runs Abbot Investments. James never lets emotion cloud his judgment—not even brotherly love, although you could call it love to save a brother from the grasp of a woman like that. Not that Hold thanked him, I’d imagine.”

And now she understood, Jessi thought. Her mind went screaming back to shocking clarity, probably because of the pain in her chest.

“I wouldn’t set my sights in that direction,” Rose concluded. “He’s notoriously standoffish with women now.”

Shut up!
The command screamed in Jessi’s brain, would have shouted from her mouth if she’d been able to push words through a throat squeezed tight with agony. She wanted to shake Rose Stanhope until words stopped spilling from her mouth. But words wouldn’t change the truth.

It all made perfect sense now—the fancy clothes, the manners, his ease with people. How he was able to spend those weeks doing a job that came with no paycheck. His reluctance—no, refusal—to talk about himself.

She wanted to go to him, to beat at him until he told her the truth with his own mouth. But what would that accomplish? Nothing could have spared her this broken heart, not after a betrayal of such magnitude.

Although she knew it was self-abuse of the worst kind, she glanced over again, saw Hold.

And Hold saw her.

In that instant she couldn’t have cared less about what Clayton Stanhope might do, because that heady cocktail of lust and love and yearning she always felt for Hold slammed into her, made it difficult to think, hard to breathe. Impossible not to feel. But this time she only wanted to sink into the floor and keen because this time what she felt was pain. More pain than any amount of money could soothe away.

T
he moment Hold saw Jessi everything faded away. She looked so damn beautiful, but it wasn’t the dress that showcased her curves to perfection; it wasn’t the wreath of flowers perched so becomingly atop her madly curling hair. It was her. The inner light that shone from her, the kindness, the humor, the warmth. The love.

She’d given it without hesitation and without strings, and he’d given her nothing back.

God, he was such a fool.

He had no choice now but to face the music; after all, he’d chosen the tune.

He threaded his way through the crowd, and when she turned, when she saw him and her face closed, he felt the first whisper of the desolation he would feel to live without her.

Not that living without her was an option.

She’d understand, he told himself. She’d be angry at first that he’d kept secrets. But Jessi was nothing if not open and forgiving. And he was telling her himself, right? Better late than never.

“Hold,” Rose Stanhope said as he reached the edge of the bower and saw her standing there with an apologetic expression on her face. “We were just talking about you, and here you are. I had no idea you were acquainted with anyone from Windfall Island.”

“Dex called him in to do the genealogy,” Jessi answered for him. “Rose is on our side.”

Hold couldn’t have cared less about the search for Eugenia’s descendants. His eyes never strayed from Jessi’s face. Jessi’s cold, calm face. “Jessi, may I talk to you? Privately?”

“Of course.”

“Jess?”

“It’s okay, Maggie. I’m fine.”

But she didn’t let him touch her. When he reached for her elbow to guide her out of the bower, she sidestepped so neatly he’d have believed it nothing more than happenstance if he hadn’t seen the strain in the parting smile she’d sent Maggie.

He stopped under a small trellis strung with honeysuckle. The beauty of it, the fragrance, were no match for her. “I believe I owe you an apology,” he began.

“Oh? Why?” she asked with a polite little smile.

“Rose didn’t tell you about me?”

“Not because I asked.”

“No, I don’t imagine she thought it was any big secret.”

“But it was,” she said, still smiling slightly, as if nothing was wrong. “Clearly you didn’t tell me the truth for a reason. I imagine you thought your money would change things between us.” He remained silent, so Jessi pressed on. “Who was she?”

“Who?” Hold blurted out.

“The woman who was after your money. The woman you loved until you found out she only saw you as a payday.”

Hold ran a hand back through his hair, swore to himself she wouldn’t catch him off guard again. “Her name isn’t important. Neither is she.”

“Of course she is, Hold, because you still haven’t gotten over her—or over what she did to you, which is the same thing. What’s not important is me.”

“Jessica—”

“If I mattered, you’d have told me about her. You’d have told me about your family.” She stepped forward, and even in the dim light he could see she wasn’t angry, just hurt. Deeply, deeply hurt. “If I mattered to you, the past wouldn’t, because you’d trust me enough to realize I loved you before I knew your bank balance.”

“Jessica.” He reached for her.

She caught his hands, squeezed them before she let go again. “I want to thank you, Hold,” she said, so gently he didn’t know how she managed to keep her voice steady when his throat was tight and aching. “Next time I won’t be so resistant to the people who come into my life. I’ll still be careful, especially where Benji is concerned, but I will risk.”

“Next time?” he said. “It’s not over, Jess.”

“It was over every time you chose to close me out of your life. I’ll miss you,” she said as if he’d never spoken, and her voice did tremble, just a little, this time, “but I’ve enjoyed every minute of the time we spent together. You were good for Benji, at a time in his life when he needed to be around a good man.”

“I’d like to see him, Jess.”

“You’re his friend, Hold.”

And that relationship had nothing to do with her; he got that message loud and clear. But he’d be damned if he settled for it.

“Am I interrupting?”

Hold closed his eyes for a second. Apparently, he wasn’t getting his wish.

“I am interrupting.”

“There’s nothing to interrupt,” Jessi said, turning to a woman who looked so much like Hold. She had the same burnished hair, tall, slim build, and warm brown eyes. Seeing her made Jessi’s heart ache even more.

“My mother, Andrea Abbot,” Hold said, stepping back to allow his mother to form a little circle with them, “Jessica Randal.”

Andrea took Jessi’s hand, cradled it with her other hand, and just held it for a moment. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jessica.”

“Please, call me Jessi. All my friends do.”

Okay, that was a dig. It almost made him smile, because for the first time he realized she was angry. And if she was angry, then the love was still there.

“Do I understand you’re involved with my son?”

“I was involved. He was just in it for the sex.”

“Jessica,” he strangled out.

But his mother only laughed. “I think I’m going to like you, Jessi.”

“Oh, don’t get too attached. Hold isn’t keeping me.”

“Whyever not?” she said, and although it sounded like a question in her honeyed voice, when she turned to him, there was nothing sweet about the fire in her eyes. “Whyever not, Holden?”

“I’m not your kind of people,” Jessi said before he could come up with a response. “For starters, I got pregnant when I was sixteen, so I have a seven-year-old son. And I’m from a little place off the Maine coast called Windfall Island. Windfall was settled by just about every kind of criminal and fugitive there ever was, so the only kind of blood running through my veins is red with maybe a hint of black-heartedness thrown in.”

“Honey, my ancestors were pirates, swamp rats, and carpetbaggers,” Andrea said. “I imagine they’d have run hand in hand with yours. Thick as thieves, you might say.”

Jessi shrugged. “The current generation doesn’t feel that way, so I’ll just say it’s been a pleasure to meet you and leave it at that.” She turned to walk away.

Hold fielded a look from his mother, long and fulminating, then narrowed with disgust. But he didn’t know what to do, what to say, in the face of Jessi’s implacable will.

“Wait a minute,” Andrea said to Jessi when words failed him. “I know my son. If he’s entered into a relationship with you—”

Jessi turned back. “He hasn’t. We’re not in a relationship. He made that perfectly clear, and I’m sure you’ll agree with him when he tells you I’m only after his money. That’s no way to build a relationship, so while he’s more than willing to spend time with me and my son, he’s not in it for the long haul.”

“I’m sure you must be mistaken, Jessi.”

“Am I? In all the time we’ve known each other, he’s never told me a thing about who he is or where he comes from, and this”—she gestured around the lavish ballroom—“is why. Here you are in a gown and jewels that would cost me a year’s salary, and I’m in a bargain-basement ball gown.”

“And you’re feeling inadequate.”

“You know, that’s the funny part. I’m feeling extremely adequate. For the first time in weeks I don’t feel like there’s something lacking in me.” She came back, gave Andrea one of her hugs that made it feel like all was right with the world, then stepped back. “And now I’ll apologize for being rude and say it’s a shame we couldn’t get to know one another better. I think I’d have liked you.”

Grinning like a fool, Hold watched her walk away. His mind was absolutely clear again, and instead of desperation he felt only confidence. Jessi had said enough, given away enough, to tell him she still loved him, and her heart was too generous to shut him out for long. “Thank you,” he said to his mother.

“Go after her,” Andrea hissed at him.

“I’m going.”

“It’s good to know I didn’t raise a complete moron.”

“Only a temporary one,” Hold said, flashing his mother a smile before his long legs took him back to Jessi’s side.

He put a hand on her arm and she looked up at him, absolutely dry-eyed. “Let me explain, Jessica.”

“There’s no need, Hold.” She subtly shifted until his hand dropped away. “A few weeks ago I would have said you’re the answer to my dreams, and that includes not having to worry about paying my bills. Now…” She looked around the room, her eyes resting on Dex and Maggie, wrapped around each other as they swayed to the music from the live band. Even seeing Dex glance up now and then to the bar where Clayton was still nursing his scotch, it was clear what they meant to one another. Her expression softened for a second or two, turned wistful before her gaze shifted back to Hold. And cooled. “I’m exactly what you’re afraid of,” she said.

“That’s not true. You love me.”

She shook her head. “Love is the most important thing in the world, Hold. But I have to love myself first, and that’s impossible without self-respect. I’ve just rediscovered mine, so if you don’t mind, I’ll concentrate on me just now. Me and my son.”

She walked away, and this time he let her.

“Holden,” Andrea said as she joined him, “you are an idiot, especially if you don’t go after that girl.”

“Not now,” Maggie said as she joined them.

“Great,” Hold muttered, “somebody else to tell me what an ass I’ve been.”

Maggie smiled. “I figure Jessi took care of that better than anyone else could.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Hold muttered as Maggie and Dex introduced themselves to his mother.

“He should go after her,” Andrea said to Maggie, giving his shoulder a little shove.

“No offense, Mrs. Abbot—”

“Andrea, please.”

“Andrea. You don’t know Jessi.”

“I’d like to, but my son is being a—a
man
.”

“It is a handicap, isn’t it?”

“You do know I’m right here,” Hold put in.

“That’s the point,” Andrea said with a sniff, “you should be running after Jessi. I swear I’ll be dead before Holden gives me a grandchild to spoil. And that girl, besides being lovely, gracious, and clearly intelligent, comes with a ready-made one.”

“Jessi may be the kindest, most forgiving person I’ve ever known,” Maggie said, “but if Hold goes after her now you’ll never get to spoil Benji.”

“But—”

Maggie rounded on him. “You lied to her, or at least kept the truth to yourself, which amounts to the same thing.” She took Dex’s hand. “Trust me, I know.”

“I didn’t do it for the reason you think,” Hold said miserably.

“Then why did you do it?”

He tried to put into words the anger, the sorrow, the reluctance that had filled him, and only ended up spreading his hands.

“Until you can answer that question, do her a favor and stay away from her.” And Maggie set off to offer the comfort Hold knew he couldn’t.

“You just got engaged, am I right?” Andrea said to Dex.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Congratulations. Talk some sense into this one.” But she smiled, her face softening as she leaned up to kiss Hold’s cheek. “You love her. I can see it, sweetheart. Don’t let her go.”

“I’m not giving up, Mother.”

“No son of mine worth his grits and cornbread would fail.” Andrea sighed. “Honoria Snowdon has been hounding me all night, and she’s headed this way.” She shook her head, mumbling as she walked away, “Someone really ought to tell her she’s too old to wear a dress cut for a N’Orleans hooker.”

“Your mother is a pistol,” Dex said.

“Yeah.” Hold shoved his hands into his pockets. “What should I do, Dex?”

“How should I know?”

“You just went through this with Maggie.”

“Maggie and Jessi are nothing alike. But I think Maggie is right; you need to give Jessi some time.”

“Great.”

“And in the meanwhile,” Dex said, “you can help me keep an eye on the Stanhopes.”

As soon as the crowd closed between her and Hold, Maggie was there, drawing her off to the side of the room where they could talk with a little more privacy.

“We have to call this off, Jessi. You’re too upset—”

“No, Maggie. Absolutely not. It has to be here and now. Dex says Clayton won’t risk seeing any of us in private. He won’t want the personal connection. So this ball is our only chance to get to him.”

“But—”

“Stop treating me like I’m going to shatter,” Jessi snapped. “I’m just as strong as you are.”

“Are you kidding? You’re ten times stronger than me. And a whole lot nicer. At least you usually let me finish my sentences.”

“I’m sorry.” Jessi rubbed her temples, dug deep for some control. She could fist her hands to stop them from shaking, but what about the rest of her? “I’m sorry,” she said again while she fought the tears pressing at the backs of her eyes, and the trembling that wanted to drop her to her knees.

“Let me deal with Clayton.”

All it took, she realized as her spine stiffened and her chin lifted, was remembering why she’d come. “If he’s seen a picture of you, which he probably has, he’ll be instantly on the defensive. And he already knows you’re not a match, so you’re no threat to him, Maggie. And it will help me take my mind off Hold.”

“Jess.” Maggie shook her head. “Are you sure about this?”

“Were you sure when you took a stand?”

“Absolutely, but I didn’t have to worry about anyone but myself.”

“Benji is why I’m doing this,” Jessi reminded her. “I’d rather face this head on than sit around waiting for someone to come after us.”

Maggie blew out a breath. “I understand, and I agree with you. But I still wish you’d let me take him on.”

Jessi took the Bluetooth Maggie handed her and replaced it in her ear. “It’s for me to do,” she said with the kind of finality even Maggie respected.

As they’d agreed, Jessi would light the fire, and the rest of them would see where the wind blew it. And now that the moment was upon her, she felt no anxiety, only a fierce determination to see their plan through.

“Here goes,” she said as she turned her attention to the bar where Clayton still stood.