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Authors: Elaine Meece

Under Currents

BOOK: Under Currents
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Under Currents

 

 

 

Under Currents

 

 

By

 

Elaine Meece

 

Copyright - 2012

 

 

 

Elaine Meece

 

 

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, dialogue and events are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any likeness to actual person, living or dead, business establishments or locales is entirely by coincidence. References to real places, groups, or organizations are intended to only provide a sense of authenticity and are fictitious.

 

Dedication

 

To my husband, Geoffrey.

For all the times we have tubed down the Current River.

 

 

 

Acknowledgements

 

I want to thank Carla Williams, a retired sergeant of a men’s maximum security prison in Florida for enlightening me on some of the procedures for prisoners entering and leaving prison.

 

 

I also want to thank Dee Julian, author of Promise Me and Macgregor’s Daughter, Valencia Keck, and Geoffrey Meece for critiquing this book.

 

Chapter One

 

 

Caleb McGregor had waited a long time for this day.

Prayed for it, and dreamed about it.

He carried his few belongings—three books and a handful of letters. A guard held the prison door open, and as he emerged from the building where he’d spent the last ten years, bright sunlight blinded him. He shielded his eyes and studied the parked cars.

His older brother had never visited or written, so it surprised Caleb when Adam had agreed to pick him up. He wouldn’t have asked for the favor, but Greyhound didn’t go to Faith, Missouri.

He glanced around.

Which car is Adam’s?

A well-dressed man stepped from a shiny, black SUV
.

Caleb smiled and waved, then hurried across the parking lot. He dropped his brown paper bag and wrapped his arms around his brother, releasing a flood of emotions. “God, it’s good to see you.”

His brother stiffened.

Caleb released the bear grip he had on Adam at once and moved back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wrinkle your suit. It’s just good to finally see family.”

His brother eyed him from head to toe, then frowned.

No doubt he disapproved of the mismatched clothes Caleb had taken from the prison’s clothes closet. His pants were two inches too short. He wore an old plaid shirt that had perspiration stains under the arms. If his grandfather had been alive, he would have made sure Caleb had decent clothes to wear home.

Adam dropped his gaze to the paper sack on the ground. “Is that all you have?”

He nodded and lifted his bag. “Yep, I’m traveling light.”

“Climb in and buckle up.”

He hadn’t expected a welcome home party, but a friendly handshake would’ve been nice. Once they were inside the vehicle, Adam pulled away from the Jefferson City Correctional Center.

Caleb breathed in the new-car-scent of the decked-out Lincoln Navigator.

Adam talked on his phone to different people for the first hundred miles. It sounded like business, so Caleb didn’t interrupt. Instead, he soaked up the sight of the landscape and towns they passed through.

His brother put the phone away and turned on the radio, scanning the channels. A news program played for the next thirty minutes. Adam turned it off and drove another sixty something miles in silence.

Caleb cleared his throat. “What do you do for a living?”

"I have a law practice with two other attorneys."

"Hot damn!” Pride swelled in Caleb’s chest. "That’s really something. I’m proud of you.”

Adam stared straight ahead without commenting.

Caleb assumed his brother’s cold treatment was over his inheritance. "I never asked Grandpa to leave me the summer house. I’m surprised he did. I expected him to leave everything to you just like Mom and Dad did. You were there for them. I wasn’t.”

Adam shrugged. “He worried you’d have nowhere to go. The deed is on the counter. The taxes are paid up for a year and the utilities have been turned on.”

“Thanks.”

In prison, gut instinct had kept him alive, but maybe he’d misread Adam. Maybe he didn’t begrudge the inheritance or resent him for disgracing the family. “Grandpa wrote you got married. Have any kids yet?”

“A son. He’s six now.”

“I can’t wait to meet him and your wife.”

Adam's face hardened. Before his brother said anything, Caleb knew. Score another point for gut instinct.

“You won’t be meeting them.” Rain dotted the windshield, and Adam switched on the SUV’s wipers. “Karen and I don’t want you around our son. You’re not welcome in our home. Don’t try to call or come by.”

The cold unfeeling words hit Caleb like a double punch to the stomach. He swallowed the hurt and humiliation. “You can pull over. I’ll walk from here.”

“Don’t be stupid. We’re still fifty miles from Faith, and I’m going in that direction.”

“Yeah, I read the mileage sign.” Caleb reached for his bag on the backseat. “But I’d rather walk it.”

Adam sighed and pulled over on the shoulder of the road. “Caleb, it’s about to storm. It’s expected to last for hours. You’ll get soaked.”

“Your concern is touching, but I’ll get out here.” Caleb didn’t want his brother to see the pain he knew his eyes reflected, so without looking at him, he climbed from the SUV. “Thanks for picking me up. I won’t trouble you again.”

He closed the door not giving Adam a chance to reply. His brother pulled the Lincoln Navigator back onto the highway and drove away.

A sharp pang tightened Caleb’s throat and knotted inside his chest, but he refused to feel sorry for himself. He’d just turned thirty-three, and he planned to make the most out of what was left of his life.

He rolled his bag up and stuffed it under his shirt, trying to keep his books dry. Even though he’d read each one numerous times, he wanted to keep them since his grandpa had sent them, especially the copy of
The
Count of Monte Cristo
by Alexandre Dumas—his favorite.

For twelve hours, Caleb walked. Walked through rain and hail. Walked with lightning and thunder flashing and booming overhead.

One thing prison hadn’t stolen from him was his pride. He was too proud to take anything else from Adam—even another fifty miles.

 


♦♦

 

Prison had changed him.

Julie Ross stared through the blinds at the man who’d moved next door the previous week. A man she’d known most of her life. He’d lost the babyish pretty boy appearance he once had. It’d been replaced with a rugged look, like a warrior who’d seen one too many battles. Nevertheless, Caleb McGregor still possessed the power to make a woman lose her breath.

He stood broad shouldered and tall, his stance intimidating, and his naturally bronzed skin made his blue eyes look like a tropical ocean against brown sand. His hair was still dark blonde but shorter now with sun-kissed strands blended in.

“What are you looking at?” asked Scott, her seven year old son, as he came up behind her.

She flinched almost dropping the binoculars and turned from the window, letting the blinds snap shut. “You nearly made me jump out of my skin. Knock next time.” Unable to look Scott in the eye and lie, she glanced back at the window. “I thought I saw a yellow finch.”

More like a jailbird.

Lying didn’t settle well with Julie, but she had to know what kind of man Caleb had become since he’d be living next door. Rumor had it that he killed a man in prison. Self-defense no doubt or he wouldn’t have been paroled. But had the experience darkened his soul?

“So what’s on your mind?” she asked turning toward Scott.

“Can we go to Grandpa’s house?”

“Maybe after dinner. Go back outside and stay with Ally. Make sure she’s not playing too close to the river.”

“She’s not. She’s swinging.”

“Then go push her. I don’t want her left alone.”

His eyes filled with concern. “You think the man who slashed your rafts and tubes might come here?”

“No, sweetie. We’re safe at home. The Faith Police Department will find whoever destroyed the equipment and put them in jail. Now go play.”

"Yes, ma'am," he said, then turned and left the room.

Her blood
boiled
at the thought of someone vandalizing her business. But that didn’t have anything to do with her kids. She didn’t want Ally outside alone with Caleb working nearby.

Julie repositioned the binoculars across the bridge of her nose and gawked through the blinds at the dreamy ex-con. She assured herself that she only did it for the safety of her children.

Her heart ached for the young, carefree man Caleb had once been before the accident he caused, before he had been convicted and sentenced to the Jefferson City Correctional Center. He’d been sentenced for two counts of reckless involuntary manslaughter. Now that he had returned to Faith, the entire town buzzed with gossip and threats. Spotting Caleb out and about was as popular as a so-called Elvis sighting.

She’d had a secret crush on him all through high school.

But Caleb had barely noticed her since he’d had plenty of big bosomed babes clinging like Velcro to him. After they’d gone off to separate colleges, she only caught glimpses of him when they both came home on holidays and summer breaks.

Her mind snapped back to the present. For the last hour he had worked at repairing the back porch of the A-framed house. He raised a board over his head and held it in place, causing muscles to ripple across his bare back. As he hammered, well-defined biceps flexed. Sweat glistened on his torso making him appear like a golden statue of some ancient Greek God.

A warming sensation cascaded through her, making her aware more than ever she still had needs. Needs that had been neglected since her husband’s death two years earlier. Her sexual awareness of Caleb vanished, replaced by guilt. What would Jeremy think of her checking out the man next door?

Jeremy.

She missed him. She missed their love life and missed his companionship. Loneliness tormented her. She’d finally gone on a couple of dates with Frank Grear, a deputy. But he hadn’t struck a chord in her. Caleb made her heart sing. Why?

Because you drooled over him in high school, you idiot.

She reminded herself that Caleb was taboo. Any involvement with him would bring more problems than the seven plagues of Egypt. Completely off limits.

Caleb gathered his tools and walked toward the shed. Ally approached him, and Julie gasped. She threw the binoculars on the bed and sprinted through the house, out the door, and across her yard to where they stood. She stepped behind Ally and placed her hands on her daughter’s small shoulders. “Ally, leave the man alone.” She labored to catch her breath. “He’s working.”

As his gaze met Ally’s, his eyes remained hard and cold like a man without a soul. His mouth formed a straight, unemotional line across his stone face. He didn’t speak just stared.

“I’m Ally.” She tilted her head up and smiled at him, looking like a chipmunk with full cheeks. “What’s your name?”

His expression softened. “Nice to meet you, Ally. I’m Caleb.”

“I’m five.” She held up five fingers. “I go to tendergarten.”

Scott joined them. “Kindergarten, goofy.”

Caleb shifted his gaze to her son. “And you’re Scott. I’ve heard your mother yell your name out the backdoor.”

“See, Mom. Told you the whole world can hear you.”

“Next door isn’t the whole world. Besides if you’d come the first time I called, there wouldn’t be a problem.”

Caleb raised his eyes slowly to hers. “I see you’ve been busy while I’ve been gone. Two kids. So the shy little butterfly finally came out of her cocoon.”

“I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

“Julie Webb, chemistry.”

Meltdown.

Any minute her body would puddle around his feet.

Get a grip.

“You know my mom?” Scott asked, as he scratched his arm.

“Knew her a long time ago.”

Julie nudged her children to leave. “We’d better go and let you work. They won’t disturb you again.”

 

♦♦♦

 

“It wasn’t a problem,” Caleb managed to say but wasn’t sure she’d heard him. Julie herded her children toward her backyard. She’d been a little cool. Not so much what she’d said, more of how she stiffened like a frightened cat. Any mother would be uneasy having an ex-con next door.

Hot damn, she’s gorgeous.

She had a face a man could lose himself in. Light grayish blue eyes with long, dark brown hair. Hell, in high school he hadn’t noticed her seductive full lips for all the metal in her mouth. She’d shot up from an A-cup to at least a C. He grinned as he remembered the skinny, nerdy girl she’d once been.

BOOK: Under Currents
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