The Heart of a Hero (7 page)

“For an apartment that’s going to sit empty all winter anyway?” Olivia said with a laugh, heading back out to the living room carrying Ella.

Julia followed her down the hall. “We’re not living here for free.”

Olivia turned with her daughter clasping
her
face trying to get her undivided attention. “Then how about if you stop by my office and ask Lucy to show you my babysitting schedule, and you sign up to chase Ella around for a few hours each week?”

“That’s it? You want me to babysit in exchange for housing? Heck, I’m not afraid of falling in love with a princess. I’ll take her anytime.”

Olivia gave an ominous little snicker as she headed for the door. “We’ll see how you feel after your first session, when you find yourself peeling her off anyone she can coax into picking her up.” She opened the door and looked back, shaking her head. “Even the horses aren’t safe. And now that she’s found out where the chickens live, they’re not safe, either.”

“Gallinae!”
Ella squealed, bouncing in her mother’s arms. “Go tee
gallinae
!”

Olivia gave a groan and headed for her cart. “According to my head chef, hens apparently think being chased by a two-year-old trying to hug them is the same as being chased by a fox trying to eat them, and they quit laying for a week.”

“Gallinae!”
Ella growled, twisting against the straps as Olivia buckled her into the safety seat on the passenger side of her cart.

Julia was confused—or else Ella was. “Why is she calling them
gallinae
?”

Olivia straightened with a tight smile. “Because my dear sweet husband is teaching her
Latin
. Once you unpack your swimsuits, you and Trish feel free to use either of the saltwater pools. The outside pool is also heated, and they’re both open to employees from ten to midnight and four to six every morning.” She waved toward the parking lot separated from the complex by some trees. “If you’re worried about Trisha driving the mountain, she can leave her truck down below and hitch a ride up on the shuttle. And in the morning she can ride down with me or Mac when we take the kids to the marina to catch the school bus with Peg’s tribe.”

“Thanks. I like that idea, especially with the weather turning.”

“You have studded snow tires on the truck?”

Julia nodded. “I had new ones put on a couple of weeks ago.”

“Since I finally caved in and had the road paved,” Olivia said, “the crew promised me they can keep it passable all winter now, and we’ll only have to use the snowcats
during
storms if there’s an emergency.” She shook her head. “I’m not really sure how I let Mac talk me into building a resort on top of a mountain, much less keep it open year-round.” She snorted. “Now he’s talking about stringing a cable across the fiord for scenic gondola rides.”

“That’s not all that far-fetched, is it? There are gondolas in the Alps.”

“It’s over
a mile
across.” Olivia waved toward the fiord. “And this is
Maine
, not the Alps, and sure as hell not Disneyland.” She took a deep breath and gave Julia a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.”

“Just right now,” Julia drawled, “as opposed to
always
?”

“Yeah, always,” Olivia said with a sigh. She slid into her shiny green electric cart—that Julia knew had been altered to go faster than the others—and set her hands on the steering wheel with a wince. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually miss cleaning cottages.” She suddenly gave Julia a cheeky smile. “How about you and I switch jobs for a week?”

“Not on your life,” Julia said with a sputtered laugh.

“Gallinae!”
Ella screeched, leaning into her harness, trying to reach the steering wheel. “Mum, go tee
gallinae
.” She looked at Julia, her huge, striking green eyes filled with impatience. “Bye,” she said with a surprisingly regal wave, apparently hoping her mother would get the hint. “Go tee
gallinae
now.
Bye
,” she repeated, this time aiming the wave at Olivia—who reached down with a loud sigh and put the cart in reverse.

She backed up, slipped the cart into forward, then looked at her daughter. “Okay, we’ll stop by the chicken coop on our way to go find your father, because you know what?” she said, widening her eyes at Ella. “Daddy wants to take you
riding
.”

“Equus!”
Ella squealed, clapping her hands in delight. “Wide
equus
wit Daddy.”

Olivia rolled her eyes and silently zoomed off toward the barn with a wave over her shoulder. Julia stepped back and closed the door, then blew out a loud sigh of her own as she gazed around her temporary, fully furnished apartment.

“Okay then,” she said as she headed for the kitchen. “Things are looking up in the walking disaster department. Trisha and I are living in the safest place on the planet thanks to my generous boss, I don’t have to bike to work anymore, and I’m apparently still in the running for the Inglenook position.” She opened the cupboards under the sink to check for cleaning supplies and found only a mousetrap.

Wait, hadn’t a couple of cats lived here? Then what idiot mouse would think this was a good place to spend the winter? Unless . . . Julia shivered and closed the cabinet doors. Unless the cats snuck in mice as future entertainment for when the boss was at work all day—which is exactly why there had never been any cats in the Campbell home. Well,
inside
the house, as there were always several semi-feral cats prowling the mill, thanks to their mouse and bird diets being supplemented with table scraps.

Julia spent the morning cleaning—one full hour vacuuming—and the afternoon unpacking all of her and Trisha’s worldly possessions, until she found herself staring into Trisha’s closet with a stupid smile on her face. She touched the ankle-length green wool coat, heartened to know her sister would be going to college looking quite sharp thanks to Peg MacKeage’s beautiful hand-me-downs.

Julia had met Peg—then Peg Conroy—their first day of kindergarten, as the both of them had stood pressed up against the school building watching the horde of children on the playground, both still shaken from the hour-long bus ride to Turtleback Station. Julia remembered whispering that it felt like they’d traveled clear across the world as Peg had inched closer and pulled a small rock out of her pocket, saying her mom had given it to her to rub if she got scared, and that they could share it for the day and she’d ask her mom if she could bring one for Julia tomorrow.

That had been the beginning of a quarter-century friendship that had seen them through way too many outrageous pranks and disastrous romantic crushes, marriages and births, deaths and divorce and widowhood, and everything in between.

Peg was actually a year older—which she liked to lord over Julia—but had been in the same grade because her birthday was October 19, making her miss starting school the previous year by four days. Julia’s birthday was October 1, so she had technically still been four years old that first day.

Julia closed the closet door and walked out of the room, down the short hallway, and into the kitchen just as her stomach gave a hungry gurgle. More from wishful thinking than optimism, she opened the fridge hoping Nicholas had forgotten to pack his cold food, only to find a bottle of wine sitting beside a tray of dome-covered dishes with an envelope propped between them. She pulled out the tray, set it on the counter, and started to close the door, but then reached in and grabbed the bottle of wine. She set the wine on the tray, picked up the envelope, and pulled out the note written in bold, familiar handwriting.

A little something to tide you over until dinner tonight.

—Nicholas

His phone number—which was seven digits, indicating it was his personal cell rather than an employee phone—was written below his name, along with a PS stating to give him a call when Trisha got back and he’d come pick them up.

Dang, she’d completely forgotten about dinner. Why hadn’t she told him they wouldn’t be going when she’d first arrived at the apartment just as he and another man had been loading the last box into his truck? Although in her defense, since he hadn’t asked if she’d enjoyed her breakfast or mentioned her vacuuming, she’d thought he might not want Olivia to know about their deal, so she hadn’t said anything, either.

Julia lifted one of the domes to find a club sandwich large enough to choke a horse wrapped in plastic to keep it fresh, a small bowl of potato sticks, a dish of pickles, and a tiny jar of mayonnaise. She found a decadent-looking piece of cake large enough to choke an elephant under another one of the domes, and what looked like apple-filled pastries under the last one.

Heck, forget the sign saying she was an utter and complete failure; she must be wearing one that read
Julia Campbell will do anything for food
.

She tucked the note between the plates and started opening drawers until she found a corkscrew. She then opened cupboards until she was pleasantly surprised to find two wineglasses, only to frown when she realized there were only two tumblers. She reopened the cupboard with the dishes and saw two plates, two bowls, and two coffee mugs, then opened the silverware drawer again and counted out four forks, knives, and spoons.

She closed the drawer with a snort.

Nicholas had filched half the dishes and eating utensils.

Julia set the wineglass on the tray with a smile, liking that she had a little dirt on Nova Mare’s director of security. Granted, it wasn’t exactly felony dirt, she guessed as she carried everything into the living room, but it could nevertheless come in handy someday. She set the tray on the small dining table in front of the window, sat down, and picked up the card again with a sigh, figuring she might as well break the news to him now. She looked around for a phone but didn’t find one.

Dang, she was going to have to get herself a cell phone. She’d gotten one for Trisha when she’d given her the truck, not wanting her baby sister on the road with no means of communication if she broke down or got in an accident. But every penny they’d both been scrimping and saving was needed to make up the difference between the cost of college and what financial aid Trisha had managed to get, so Julia had drawn the line at having her own phone.

The one exception to dipping into their savings was Trisha’s upcoming trip to New York City, when Turtleback’s school band got to play in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Trisha did a lot of babysitting for Peg and Duncan, and Julia had promised her sister that if she saved enough to pay her share of the trip’s cost, she would then match it with spending money.

The girl had lived up to her end of the bargain, and one week from today, Julia was putting Trisha on a bus with her bandmates for a seven-day trip to the Big Apple—which was twice as far as Julia had been from Spellbound Falls. She’d only made it to Boston on her honeymoon, and then only so Clay could check out Boston University’s master degree programs.

That should have been her first clue the jerk was going to renege on their deal that she support him while he got his bachelor’s degree, after which she was supposed to get her teaching degree. In the end, Clay had stayed at the University of Maine for all six years, gotten his master’s in engineering, and gone to
work
in Boston instead—newly married to a woman Julia later found out he had cheated on her with for the last three years of their marriage.

Realizing she’d crumpled up the note with Nicholas’s phone number, Julia calmly smoothed it out on the table, slowly folded it in quarters, and leaned over and slipped it in the hind pocket of her jeans. She’d stop at the registration pavilion when she left to go pick up Trisha at the marina, and have the front desk give Nicholas the message that she and her sister couldn’t have dinner with him because . . . well, she’d come up with a believable lie by that time.

And then she’d get back to her routine of cleaning cottages and
not
seeing Nicholas except at staff meetings—and then from the safety of the back row. And, Julia decided as she unwrapped the sandwich, she would remember this three-day
walking disaster
as nothing more than a really bad dream. Well, except for those heavenly few seconds on her porch Friday night, because who knew when she’d ever get pulled into the arms of a big strong man and be kissed like that again?

Chapter Six

“Jules. Jules, wake up,” Julia heard Trisha whisper as she felt her shoulder being repeatedly nudged. “But don’t move.”

“What’s going on?” Julia asked, opening her eyes to find the hall light spilling into her bedroom as she tried to sit up, only to have Trisha press down on her shoulder.

“Don’t move,” her sister hissed.

“W-what’s wrong?”

“There’s a giant lynx or bobcat or something curled up against your leg,” Trisha continued softly. “And I really don’t think we should startle it.”

Julia realized the girl was holding her clarinet like a baseball bat, apparently ready to sacrifice her beloved instrument to save her big sister. She also realized there
was
something warm and heavy pressing against the length of her thigh, and she slowly lifted her head and looked down.

Yup, that sure looked like a lynx or bobcat to her, its huge eyes staring unblinking at her from a long-whiskered face, its hair-tufted ears also trained on her. “It . . .” Julia ran her tongue around her suddenly dry mouth, breaking her gaze with the eerily silent creature. “It has to be one of Nicholas’s cats,” she said, slowly trying to slide away—only to go perfectly still when it reached out one of its massive paws and snagged the blanket over her thigh.

“How do you suppose they got in here?” Trisha said in a whisper, sounding a bit relieved at the prospect it might actually have an owner.

“I don’t know, but judging by that paw, maybe it just turned the doorknob. Wait, what do you mean,
they
?”

“I made sure both doors were locked when we went to bed. But you might be right about it belonging to Nicholas, because I woke up to a cat curled up in bed with me, too. Only it’s not nearly as big as this one.”

Julia glanced toward the hall. “Where is it now?”

“Still on my bed. I came in here to tell you about it and found
him
. Or her,” she said softly, gesturing slightly with the clarinet. “Do you think Nicholas raised it from a kitten, so it’s tame? It’s not purring. My cat was purring. That’s what woke me.”

“Where’s your cell phone?” Julia asked.

“I can’t find my house charger, so it’s plugged into the one in my truck.”

That’s because Julia was pretty sure the house charger was still sitting on the counter back home. “Okay, I’m going to try to slide—” Julia barely stifled a shriek when Trisha’s nocturnal visitor suddenly jumped up on the bed as quiet as a . . . cat, walked across her belly, flopped down beside its buddy, and started purring.

Big Cat started washing Small Cat’s face, even though Julia was pretty sure they weren’t related, as the black-and-gray big one was long-haired, stout-boned, and had an eerily humanlike face, while the smaller one was short-haired, sleek, and solid gray, with huge round eyes that appeared orange in the hall light.

“What are we going to do?” Trisha whispered.

Julia once more tried sliding away, but stilled again when Big Cat stopped in mid-lick and, without even looking at her, curled its paw resting on her thigh into the blanket deeply enough that she felt its claws snag her pajama pants. “Um, how about you go to the kitchen,” she softly suggested, “and take the meat out of what’s left of the sandwich in the fridge and bring it back here? Maybe we can coax them off the bed and then lure them outside.”

Trisha slowly extended her clarinet toward Julia, causing Big Cat to stop licking again when she slowly pulled her hand from under the blanket, took the instrument, and held it lying across her chest. “Okay, go.
Slowly.
”

Trisha backed out of the room and halfway down the hall before she turned and sprinted toward the kitchen. Julia looked back at the two cats and softly sighed as the big one resumed washing the smaller one’s face. She wasn’t normally afraid of cats, but there really wasn’t anything
normal
about either of these. Big Cat had to be at least part lynx or bobcat, because she didn’t believe house cats got that huge. And she’d actually seen a lynx once while out walking in the woods, and it had been just as silent and had had an equally spooky face. Heck, this one’s eyes appeared to be ringed with black eyeliner, and the tufts sticking out of its ears gave it a devilish look. As for its buddy; Julia hadn’t known cats could have orange eyes, and its fur was a ghostly shade of bluish-gray. But at least it purred like a normal cat.

They had to belong to Nicholas, because now that she thought about it, he really wasn’t all that normal, either. Whoever heard of anyone not having a last name? Well, other than rock stars. And he didn’t appear to date; how did a man that maddeningly handsome not have women hanging all over him?

He certainly kissed like he’d had plenty of practice.

And the guy had a weird sense of humor, like calling her a walking disaster when she was right in the middle of an emotional breakdown. And what was up with that “size matters” comment, anyway? Did he have the staff locker room bugged or something?

Where in heck was Trisha? Was she
eating
the sandwich?

Big Cat suddenly stopped licking again, its whiskers twitching as it lifted its nose in the air not two seconds before Trisha came sprinting back into the room. “Slowly,” Julia hissed as both cats suddenly stood up—the big one straddling Julia’s body.

Trisha skidded to a halt and started backing away when they both jumped off the bed and started toward her. “Jules,” she squeaked, speeding up. “Help me.”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Julia growled, tossing back the blankets and getting out of bed. “They’re cats, not mountain lions.” She rushed past them and headed for the door—although she was still holding the clarinet. “It’s not like they’re going to eat us.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t see
you
shoving them off your bed,” Trisha muttered as she backed out the door Julia had opened. The girl immediately stepped to the side and lobbed the handful of meat halfway down the front path, watched the two cats pounce on their prize, then scurried back inside the apartment.

Julia slammed the door closed, turned and leaned against it as she bent to rest her hands on her knees, and started laughing just as Trisha plopped down on the arm of the couch and also burst into laughter.

“Aren’t we fearless women?” Julia said with a snicker. “Afraid of two cats.”

“Did you see the size of that big one?” Trisha said, sobering. “I swear it must weigh twenty-five or thirty pounds.”

Julia straightened, shaking her head. “It has to be all hair,” she said, despite remembering how heavy it had felt on her bed. “Considering I vacuumed up about three pounds of cat hair today—I mean yesterday. What time is it?”

“I think it was almost five when I went into your bedroom. How do you suppose they got in here?”

“There must be a cat door somewhere in the apartment.” Julia walked to the window, lifted the pleated shade, and looked outside. “They’re gone,” she said, turning and looking around the apartment. “But I didn’t see a cat door when I cleaned today. If Nicholas had one for them, wouldn’t he have fit it into a window rather than cut a hole in the wall or door of a rental?”

Trisha walked to the kitchen. “I noticed a bottom cupboard was open when I came in to get the meat. Maybe he hid it inside a cupboard so no one would see it.”

Julia followed just as Trisha snapped on the light, and saw the cupboard next to the back entrance was indeed ajar. Trisha got down on her knees, opened the cupboard all the way, then sat back on her heels as she pointed inside. “There it is.” She blew out a sigh. “That makes me feel better. I was starting to imagine all sorts of weird ways they might have gotten in here.”

“Does it have a lock on it?”

Trisha leaned inside the cupboard. “Yup,” came her muffled reply. She backed out and sat up again, brushing her hands together. “There; we won’t be waking up to find them in bed with us again.” She waved at the cupboard. “It’s a neat little door and looks professionally installed. But Nicholas really should have told us about it, before we found ourselves waking up to raccoons going through our frid—oh!” Trisha shrieked when a loud rattling came from inside the cupboard, making her scramble away and bump into the trash can.

Julia slammed the cupboard door closed and held her leg against it. “You’re sure it’s
locked
?”

Trisha took a deep breath and got back on her knees with a scowl. “It has little metal pins on both sides that slide into eyelets on the door. I closed both of them,” she said, grabbing the cupboard handle. She nodded. “Okay, move away and I’ll check and make sure they’re both still in place.”

Julia stepped away, then watched as Trisha slowly opened the cupboard and peeked inside just as the cat door rattled again. “Go home, you brats,” Trisha said into the cupboard, making the rattling stop. “You don’t live here anymore. You moved down the mountain.” She grinned up at Julia. “It was probably a mistake to feed them.”

“A well-aimed bucket of water might change their minds,” Julia drawled.

Trisha closed the cupboard and stood up. “They’ll eventually get bored and leave. But Nicholas really should have told us about the cat door, or at least thought to lock it, expecting they’d come back.”

“He was too busy escaping from Ella to tell me,” Julia said on a laugh. She walked over and started looking through the boxes Trisha had brought back from the MacKeages’—that Peg had thoughtfully filled with food staples for their new apartment. She hoped her friend had included coffee for the coffeemaker Nicholas wisely
hadn’t
filched. “Apparently our big, strapping director of security is afraid of little girls,” she continued, sighing in relief when she found a can of coffee. She started digging through the boxes looking for filters. “Oh, by the way, Olivia said I can work off our rent by babysitting Ella, and you might as well sign up for a shift or two yourself.”

“Sure,” Trisha said, grabbing the carafe and filling it at the sink. “Mrs. MacKeage can give me a reference if you think it’ll make Mrs. Oceanus feel better. And Sophie and Henry know me quite well, since they spend a lot of time at the MacKeages’.”

Julia slid the drawer closed with her hip after pulling out the can opener and started opening the coffee—savoring the sound of the air rushing into the can when she pierced the lid. “Don’t you think it’s time you started calling people by their first names like Peg keeps suggesting?”

Trisha spun toward her. “Mom would roll over in her grave.”

“You’re an adult now, Trisha.” Julia gestured around the kitchen with the can opener. “You’re living almost on your own, you earn your own money, and now you’ll be able to deposit the social security checks you started getting when Mom died into
your own
checking account.”

“Do . . . do you think Dad’s going to let me? Those checks are the biggest reason he dragged me home the last time we tried to move out.”

“You’ll be a legal adult in a month, so he can’t force you to live with him anymore, and we’ll go online and have Social Security send them to
your
checking account the moment you turn eighteen.” Julia waved at the apartment again. “And even drunk, Dad wouldn’t have the courage to come up here and drag you home at two in the morning—assuming he could even get past the bottom guardhouse.” She touched Trisha’s shoulder. “You’re free now, little sister. Dad’s not going to start anything this close to your birthday.”

A slow smile spread across Trisha’s face, her eyes filling with the knowledge it was finally over. “No more drunken tirades and sleeping on church pews, and no more embarrassing public scenes in town or at school.”

Julia started spooning coffee into the filter. “Sorry, sis, but the embarrassment doesn’t end with emancipation; it just changes.” She started the coffee brewing, then turned with a smile. “But you’ll survive by holding your head high and thumbing your nose at anyone who tries to knock you down. Oh, and it helps to keep moving,” she added with a chuckle. “So you can stay one step ahead of the humiliation demons.” Julia pulled her sister into a hug. “And you begin as you intend to go on, and that includes calling people by their first names.”

“Even . . . even Mrs. Richie?” Trisha whispered. She leaned away, her eyes now dancing with amusement. “I really don’t want to be responsible for sending an eighty-four-year-old woman into anaphylactic shock by calling her Christina.”

“Have you ever heard
me
call her Christina?” Julia said on a laugh, giving her one last fierce hug before stepping away. “But everyone else by their first names, including Ezra at the Trading Post, okay?”

“Um . . . Mr. Oceanus?” Trisha said, already shaking her head. “Duncan I can probably do, but not Olivia’s husband. He’s just . . . he’s too . . .”

“Big and scary?” Julia finished for her. “Yes,” she said with a curt nod before heading down the hallway. “You put on your big girl panties and call him Mac.”

Trisha followed with a heavy sigh. “Why is growing up so scary? I’m freaked out just thinking about riding a stupid bus to New York City with
friends
.”

“You think calling people by their first names and visiting a big city are scary?” Julia asked, stepping into the bathroom and turning to arch a brow at her. “You just wait until the boys at UMO get a look at you next September and you find yourself having to beat them off with a stick.”