Sweet Laurel Falls (13 page)

A cold wind slid under his jacket as he retraced the steps he
had taken earlier on his way back to his B and B. He supposed he could have
driven the few blocks to Maura’s house in his rented SUV, but living in a city
where parking was both exorbitant and elusive had given him a healthy
appreciation for the convenience of walking. Old habits, and all that.

Of course, he hadn’t expected to find himself bisecting the
evening with another walk, when he and Maura had taken Puck on this very same
route.

That moment when they had been standing so close together near
the falls, when she had leaned against him almost imperceptibly, caught his
breath all over again. He was weak when it came to Maura McKnight. He always had
been.

He had thought about her over the years with softness, the same
kind of fond recollection he had for his first car and the first building he had
ever designed. Over the years, he had even thought about looking her up a time
or two, but had decided he would rather cherish those memories than be
confronted with a reality that might have turned out far differently than he
imagined.

She was his first love, but in his head, he had always compared
what they shared to a bonfire of paper and plywood. The flames burned hot and
fierce, certainly, but they also burned out quickly, leaving nothing but smoke
and ash. How could it have turned out any other way, as young and heedless as
they had both been?

Like it or not, their worlds were entwined now through Sage. He
wasn’t about to walk out of his daughter’s life, which meant he would by
necessity be in Maura’s as well. At least for the next few months, he was bound
to see her around town.

He didn’t know exactly how he felt about that. Earlier, by the
falls, something seemed to shiver between them, something soft and tender and
enticing. He shook his head. Crazy. This town definitely took away all reason
and good sense. Must be something in the water.

He was just about to turn onto Blue Sage Road, just one block
east of the B and B, when a deep-throated dog began to bark wildly a few houses
down. Hoping it was on a leash or behind a fence, he crossed to the sidewalk on
the other side of the street. He wasn’t in the mood to lose any bite-shaped
chunks out of his hide right now.

On alert, he scanned the road for any big, angry guard dog
coming at him. Out of the corner of his gaze, he spotted movement several houses
from him, on the same side of the street. Human. Definitely human, at least
judging by the long black coat that flared as the guy sidled behind a tree.

So the loud dog wasn’t barking at him, probably. That was a bit
of a relief, he supposed. Maybe that was why the other guy was commando-sneaking
behind another tree.

Okay, weird. The black clothes, the sneaking around, darting in
and out of the trees. Not a particularly good combination. Was this a thief,
targeting holiday-emptied houses in town? Wouldn’t it be just his luck to
witness a crime on his last night in town?

The guy was definitely up to something as he moved one house
closer to Jack’s position. So far he didn’t seem to have seen Jack, not even
when he had crossed the street, probably because he was just out of range of the
only streetlight on the corner.

Somebody in San Francisco might consider this none of his
business, but Jack didn’t work that way. He reached for his cell phone and began
to dial nine-one-one, and had his finger just above the send button when he
realized the mystery man wasn’t heading into one of the darkened houses on the
street, with their lodge-chic decorations.

Instead, he appeared to be heading up to the doorstep of the
smallest house on the street, a clapboard single-story house with green
shutters. Several children’s bikes were parked on the front porch, and all the
lights were blazing from the windows.

The guy probably wasn’t a thief, then, but why all the
skullduggery? He watched as the figure crept up to the porch and dropped
something on the mat, rang the doorbell, then raced back down the sidewalk to
hide behind a huge pine tree on the edge of the property. In his dark clothing,
he blended into the night, shadow and shape becoming one.

From his vantage point, Jack could see a tired-looking woman
wearing a housedress with her hair slipping from a ponytail open the door and
peer out.

“Who’s there?” the woman called, and Jack slid further behind
his own camouflage, not wanting to take the blame or the credit for something to
which he was merely an innocent bystander.

“Come on, you kids. Knock it off. It’s cold. You shouldn’t be
out messing around, bothering regular people. Go home.”

From inside the house, Jack could hear a child crying and
another one yelling. The woman started to close the door, and then she must have
caught sight of whatever the mysterious visitor had left on the mat. She bent
down and picked up something that looked from here like a business-size
envelope. Jack couldn’t see it clearly, but as he watched, the woman frowned at
the envelope and opened it. He saw a flash of green and the woman’s mouth
dropped open. She looked at what was obviously a wad of money, then walked to
the edge of her porch.

“Hello? Who’s there?” she called.

The only answer was the barking of the neighbor’s dog and her
own children bickering from inside.

“Thank you. Thank you. God bless you. Whoever you are, thank
you!”

The last words rang out with a near sob that sent shivers down
his cynical spine.

When was the last time he had done something purely altruistic
for someone? Oh, he contributed to various charities and always tried to carry a
little extra spare change for the homeless who often stayed out of the wind and
damp in the doorways he passed on his way to work, but this seemed different,
somehow. Much more personal and
real.

The conversation earlier with Sage and Maura about the town’s
Angel of Hope rang through his memory. He must have just witnessed the guy in
action. What else could it be?

The door closed as the woman finally went inside to share her
news with the rest of her family. Jack should have moved on. He was cold and
damp and uncomfortable, but he wasn’t about to move until the Angel, if that’s
who it was, moved first.

The guy waited a few more moments, probably to make sure the
coast was clear, then he hurried down the street, moving stealthily from tree to
bush, as if he expected a light to blare down from a search helicopter at any
moment.

When he was almost at the end of the street, the Angel stopped
for just a moment and lifted a hand as if to rub his chest, then he dropped his
fingers and hurried down the street.

Jack narrowed his gaze in the darkness, a completely crazy
thought clanging through his head. Impossible. Even though the height and the
general weight might match up, he would never believe it.

Not knowing the son of a bitch as he did.

CHAPTER EIGHT

A
HALF
HOUR
INTO
HER
BOOK
GROUP
, gathered with her closest friends—and a relative or two or three
thrown in for good measure—Maura came to a particularly grim conclusion.

“You are all a bunch of dirty rotten liars, aren’t you?” she
finally exclaimed. “All this talk about character development and imagery is a
bunch of bull. Not a single one of you has read this month’s book.”

Mary Ella and Ruth exchanged guilty looks, and Claire’s cheeks
turned pink. Her sisters Angie and Alex nudged each other and became
inordinately fascinated with the cozy display of mystery novels on the shelf
beside them.

“I wanted to read it, my dear. Honestly, I did,” Katherine
Thorne said with a rueful smile. “I had the best intentions. I loaded it onto my
e-reader to take on my cruise to the Caribbean over the holidays, but I ended up
reading mysteries and romance novels the whole time. And I won’t feel guilty
about it either, so don’t try to make me.”

“I read a review online,” Mary Ella confessed. “The reviewer
said it was rich in symbolism and layered with existential angst. To be honest,
I just didn’t have the energy for it. You know how Januaries are.”

Maura glared at them all. “Why didn’t any of you tell me you
didn’t want to read the book when I offered suggestions for the month? Jeez, I
gave you like five choices. We could have picked something different.”

“Make a note,” Alex said, lounging on the sofa. She looked
pretty and bright as always, with her curly blond hair and the green eyes they
shared. “Next January, pick something easy and uncomplicated for our tired
little seasonally affected brains.”

“Claire, help me out here.”

“I’m sorry. I meant to read it, honestly I did. It’s been
sitting on my bedside table for a month. But with the wedding and the holidays
and how busy the store was—and then Macy and Owen both having the flu right
after school started again—I just haven’t had a
minute
.”

“You don’t need an excuse, Claire.” Evie Blanchard gave her a
mischievous grin that would have seemed out of character a few months earlier,
before she’d started dating Brodie Thorne and the shadows lurking in her eyes
had begun to fade. “You’re still a newlywed. I think all of us can agree you
probably have better things to do with your free time.”

“Evie!” Claire exclaimed, her pink color turning a fiery red
even as a sudden glint appeared in her eyes.

“Ewww.” Alex made a face. “Anybody have any brain scrub?”

“If you do, pass some my way,” Mary Ella muttered, though she
smiled with customary good nature at her new daughter-in-law. Despite the
teasing, her mother and sister—really, the whole McKnight family—was thrilled at
Riley’s brilliant choice in Claire. She was the perfect woman for him. She was
calm and patient and loving, everything Riley needed after returning hard and
angry from his time as an undercover police officer.

“What about Evie?” Claire said. “She’s barely left Brodie’s
side since September.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Evie replied, though she wore that same
kind of knowing, well-satisfied smile.

A completely unexpected envy pinched at her as she studied her
two dear friends. Except for a few dates here and there, Maura had been alone
since she and Chris had called it quits years ago. She had tried to convince
herself she needed to focus on raising her daughters, not bringing in man after
man to complicate their lives and dilute her attentions. But that was small
comfort on cold winter nights when she really missed having someone to snuggle
on the sofa with and watch the flames dance in the fireplace while the snow
piled up outside and storm winds howled under the eaves.

“I’m hearing rumors,” Mary Ella said. “Any truth to them?”

“Katherine,” Evie exclaimed to Brodie’s mother.

“I didn’t say a word, I swear,” Katherine protested.

“It wasn’t Kat,” Mary Ella said. “I just happened to be in
Reverend Wilson’s office this week, working on organizing the choir music, when
a certain handsome young restaurant owner who shall remain nameless came in
asking about Saturdays in March when the church might be available.”

Evie was the one blushing now, and Maura mentally threw up her
hands, though she smiled at the same time. Any chance of having an intelligent
discussion about books was hopeless now that another wedding was apparently in
the air.

“Oh, no. Not you too!” Alex exclaimed.

“I didn’t mean to spoil your surprise, my dear.” Mary Ella sent
her an apologetic look.

“It’s all right,” Evie assured her. “I was going to tell
everyone tonight anyway.”

She held up her left hand, where a beautiful emerald glistened.
“It’s true. We’re looking at March. I hope you can all be there. I’m going to be
sending out invitations in the next week or so. I know it’s short notice, but
Taryn is doing so well, we just wanted to celebrate and start moving on with our
lives together.”

“Oh, congratulations, honey,” Maura said. She hugged her
friend, and for the next half hour, Evie made the rounds of the book group,
showing off her ring and accepting congratulations and talking wedding
plans.

Maura listened to the discussion with her heart a little
lighter than when she had started the evening. She loved weddings and was
genuinely happy for Evie and Brodie. After all these years, Taryn would have a
loving stepmother, Katherine would gain a dear friend for a daughter-in-law, and
Brodie couldn’t find a better woman than Evie.

After the pain of the last year, they all deserved to be happy.
Taryn had survived the accident that killed Layla, her best friend, but had been
seriously wounded. Despite her own misgivings, Evie, a former physical
therapist, had agreed to help with Taryn’s recovery. In the process of helping
the girl heal from both her physical and emotional wounds, Evie and Brodie had
fallen in love.

Maura sat back now and listened to the conversation flow around
her, about flowers and decorations and picking out dresses.

“Too bad nobody brought champagne,” Angie said. “We need to
toast to the happy couple.”

“I can grab some ginger ale from the refrigerator in the back,”
Maura said. “And don’t forget we still have Alex’s yummies. What did you bring
this week?”

“A new cheesecake recipe I’m trying out. White chocolate.”

Everybody moaned with appreciation, except Ruth, who wasn’t
crazy about chocolate—white, milk or semisweet—and Charlotte Caine, whom they
all knew was trying hard to lose weight.

Alex, who could be surprisingly thoughtful at times, especially
when it came to food, produced an angel food cake for the two of them. “No
chocolate. And only one-hundred-fifty calories,” she told Charlotte.

For the next few minutes, Maura was busy finding glasses and
ginger ale for everyone while her sister served up dessert.

“So what else is new with everyone else?” Claire asked when
they all seemed settled with refreshments.

“I’m already planning another cruise,” Katherine said. “I’m
thinking the Panama Canal this time. I’m going to see if I can drag Ruth along
to this one.”

“We’ll see,” Ruth said with a grunt.

“I think you need to go on one of those Sexy Senior Singles
cruises,” Alex said. “Mom, you should go with them too.”

Mary Ella rolled her eyes. “I’m not looking for romance—any
more than you seem to be.”

“Neither am I,” Ruth said. “Now, sex, on the other hand…”

Everybody laughed hard at that, even Maura, until Alex turned
to her. “Speaking of sex. Or at least
sexy.
I see
we’ve got a new business opening up in the old insurance company office.”

Maura could feel heat seep into her cheeks and she sipped at
her ginger ale, hoping nobody noticed. She still wasn’t quite sure how Jack had
taken his fledgling idea over the holidays of opening an office of Lange &
Associates in Hope’s Crossing and turned it into firm reality in only three
weeks. “It’s a temporary situation. Jack has some projects in the area and he
needed a local base.”

“Has Sage started working for him yet?” Angie asked.

“Last week. So far she loves it.”

“I was so hoping she would be here tonight so I could ask her
what it’s like to work so closely with a world-renowned architect,” Mary Ella
said.

“She’s only been working for him a week, so I’m not sure she’s
really qualified to answer that yet. I do know the work must be tiring. I think
she’s been in bed by eight-thirty every night. I’m hoping she didn’t catch a
touch of Owen and Macy’s bug.”

Maura did her best to conceal her worry for Sage from her
mother and the other women. Something was wrong with her daughter. She knew it
in her gut. Since Sage had returned from several days spent in Boulder to fix
her car and clean out her dorm room ten days earlier, she had been withdrawn and
quiet.

During her first year of college, whenever Sage would return
home on breaks, the two of them would stay up talking for hours. She couldn’t
manage to turn off her daughter’s chatter and she hadn’t wanted to, even when
she was exhausted from working all day.

This time around, Sage seemed to want to do nothing but read,
watch television and sleep.

If this didn’t improve in a week or two, especially now that
Sage had the added stimulation and challenge of working with her father, Maura
planned to insist she make a visit to their family doctor.

“So how is it having Jackson Lange back in town?” Evie
asked.

Maura concentrated on the bite of very delicious cheesecake
melting in her mouth. “Fine, as far as I know,” she finally said. “I haven’t
seen the man since the holidays.”

That was one good thing about Sage working for him. She spent
all day with him at the small office up the street, and they hadn’t socialized
much together, which meant Maura’s interactions with Jack had become
nonexistent.

“I heard he’s renting a place up in the Aspen Ridge
development,” Angie said. “Gina Coletti has a place there and said he’s in the
same unit with her.”

Sage hadn’t mentioned that, but then Maura had tried very hard
not to ask about her daughter’s father. Aspen Ridge was only a few streets away
from her house. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Jack living so close to
her.

“It’s only temporary,” she said again, wondering just who she
was trying to convince. She quickly and deliberately changed the subject by
turning to Evie. “How’s Taryn these days? I haven’t seen her since before
Christmas.”

“She amazes me every day. You heard she was back in school,
right? She started after the holidays. With the tutors she had in the fall,
she’s not even very far behind. Can you believe that? And she’s catching up
quickly. We’ll have to drop by the bookstore after school one day to say hi. I
think Taryn would like that.”

“I’m so happy she’s improving. Please tell her I would love to
see her.”

“I will.” Evie paused, then lowered her voice while the
conversation flowed around them. “I should probably tell you that she and
Charlie still email when they can. He happened to mention in an email that you
sent a Christmas package to him at the juvenile detention center.”

Maura avoided her friend’s gaze, embarrassed to have that small
gesture become common knowledge. “He has plenty of time on his hands. I thought
he might enjoy exploring some good books while he’s there.”

Evie squeezed her fingers. “Just for the record, you’re one of
the very best people I know, Maura.”

What a joke that was. Inside she felt bitter and shriveled and
angry at the world. “It was no big deal. I run a bookstore, Evie. Books are kind
of easy for me to lay my hands on.” She paused, compelled to ask, though she
didn’t really want to know the answer. “How much longer does he have?”

“Nine months.”

“What’s in nine months?” Alex asked, overhearing. “Don’t tell
me you’ve got another announcement, Evie!”

“No!” the other woman exclaimed. “Nothing so exciting, I’m
afraid. Or pleasant, for that matter. I was telling Maura that Charlie Beaumont
has nine more months in his sentence before he’s released from juvenile
detention.”

Alex’s teasing smile slid away, replaced by the sharp, hard
lines of anger. “Not nearly long enough for the little bastard. He killed our
Layla and almost killed Taryn. For that, he gets less than a year in youth
corrections? It’s heinous.”

Evie opened her mouth, but closed it again. Maura knew Evie was
somewhat sympathetic to the boy, who had been driving impaired when he’d slid
into a tree. Charlie Beaumont had been a huge part of Taryn’s recovery. Maura
knew that. Facts had emerged at Charlie’s sentencing hearing that cast a new
light on the details leading up to the accident, but she wasn’t nearly as
forgiving.

If not for Charlie’s decision to drink and drive and then to
try outrunning a police officer—her brother Riley—Layla might be waiting home
for her right now to giggle and gossip and talk about school.

“I heard Mayor Beaumont is trying to get him out early on good
behavior so he can go to Genevieve’s wedding,” Ruth interjected.

“I think Gen would prefer he stay locked up,” Claire said. “She
doesn’t want anything to ruin her perfect day, especially not her juvenile
delinquent of a brother. Her extremely gorgeous fiancé and his snobby family
might not like it.”

Maura didn’t want to talk about Charlie Beaumont—or for that
matter, Genevieve and her grand society wedding in only a few month’s time—so
she again deftly maneuvered the conversation back to safer waters by asking
Claire about the second annual Giving Hope Day, which was in the planning
stages.

As Claire launched excitedly into her spiel about how this one
would be bigger and better, Maura sat back, marveling at how adroit she had
become at social manipulation when the need arose. Yet another unwanted skill
she had developed over the past year.