A Stranger in Wynnedower (29 page)

“I’m off the market.
For good, if Lia will have me.” His smile spread across his face. “And she
will.”

Rachel stared down at
the herringbone brick pattern. “Yeah, she will.” She reached over and patted
his leg. “She will.”

He put his arm around
her and pulled her close again. Her head rested below his chin. She’d raised
him. Now he was about to belong to another woman. She placed her hand over her
heart.

“You okay? You sighed.”

“Did I?” Rachel moved
away and sat up straight. “I’m fine. Colorado is a long way away. I’ll miss
you.”

“I want you to meet her
soon. Her family, too. You raised me to appreciate the value of family. They’ve
been great. There’s something else…I feel a little odd about saying it…and I
don’t mean it as a criticism, but remember how we always talked about going to
church, but didn’t?” He took her hand again. “They do, and I’m enjoying it.”

He might not mean to
criticize, but she felt the pang anyway. “Time and money. No time, and I
couldn’t afford the clothes to dress right for church.”

“Things are more casual
now.” He lifted her hand and touched it to her cheek. “Anyway, it’s new to
me—like a lot of stuff right now—and I’ll keep you posted. But, you have to
come visit us, the sooner the better. I want you to be a part of it, too.”

He’d added that last to
soothe her feelings. He hadn’t done it very artfully, but she appreciated his
intent. They sat for a minute listening to the breeze ruffling through the
nearby trees. A bird sang and a squirrel ran across the terrace wall on the far
side, ignoring them, intent upon the business of living.

Jeremy said, “Are you
going to introduce me?”

“To Jack?”

“Who else? My former
employer, for that matter, and now someone who means something to my sister.
But don’t worry, I won’t give you away. Unless you want me to?”

An errant strand of
hair tickled her face, and she pushed it back behind her ear. “Don’t do
anything to embarrass me.”

“Me?”

“I’m serious.” She took
his hand. “He’s an artist, did you know that? He’s about to leave for a week
for his New York gallery showing, his first, and it’s a big deal for him.”

“He must be good.”

“He is. He asked me to
stay until he returned. To watch out for the house and stuff.”

Jeremy frowned. “That
sounds dangerous. Don’t tell me you’re leaving the inventory profession to
become a security guard? Seriously, I don’t like the idea of you being here
alone.”

“Oh, goodness, no. I
won’t be alone. May will be here. Did you meet May?”

“No—oh, wait. Sellers,
right? She dropped by a few times like she owned the place. I did my best to
avoid her.”

“I’m not surprised.
Anyway, Brendan will be here at night to watch the back of the house.”

“Really?” He didn’t
sound pleased.

“Brendan’s fine. A very
nice young man and a happy antidote to May.”

“He’s not a kid. He’s
about my age, isn’t he? Are you sure he’s safe?”

She laughed. “You’re
funny. How have I managed while you’ve been gone for most of the past four
years? I think I can take care of myself.”

“Point taken.”

“Then there’s Helene.
But we don’t discuss her, so don’t tell anyone she’s here.”

“What are you talking
about?”

“It’s a long story, but
as you can see, it’s quite a full house.”

“May, who needs a happy
antidote, Brendan, who’s a ‘nice’ young man, and a woman we can’t talk about.
How does that sound to you? As bizarre as it sounds to me?”

And somehow she fit
into that mix. What did that say about her?

They stood, but before
leaving the terrace and going back to reality—the reality they had to share
with the rest of the crazy world—she touched his arm and hugged him. Never mind
that the top of her head barely reached his shoulder. She hugged him as if he
was the little brother she was parenting for the last time.

Jeremy’s arms
stiffened, and his chest grew taut. She backed away. Someone had joined them. He
was standing in the conservatory doorway, his face flushed and his expression
angry.

“Jack? Is something
wrong?”

“Apparently not?”

A delicious shiver
raced up her spine.

“Jack, meet Jeremy, my
brother.” She touched her brother’s arm. “And your former employee.”

“Jeremy.” He said the
name, and it hung there for a second. “I’m glad to see you well and whole. Your
sister was worried.”

Jeremy left her side
and stepped forward, extending his hand. “Mr. Wynne? I’m pleased to meet you.
Yes, I have a lot to make up to my sister, but we’ve already discussed most of
it. I understand there was some sort of miscommunication with the management
company.”

“You left without
notice. They discovered you were gone when they found the envelope with the
house key in the drop box.”

Jack had his hands on
his hips; Jeremy did the same. A face-off.
Showdown at the OK Corral.
Rachel bit her lip to keep from interfering.

“Betty. That’s who I
spoke with,” Jeremy said. “I can’t recall her last name. She told me to drop
the house key off when I was on my way out of town.”

Jack shrugged. “Then
I’m sure there’s an explanation. I’m glad to hear it wasn’t as it seemed.” He
nodded toward the house. “Will you come in? There’s some coffee left.”

Jeremy smiled at
Rachel, then looked back at Jack. “Thanks, but no. I came by to talk to Rachel,
and I’ve got some running around to do before I leave town.”

“Leaving again?”

“Yes.” He turned to
her. “I’ll be back to see you before I do.”

She reached up and
patted his cheek. “You still have some things upstairs. Didn’t I recognize that
bedspread?”

He glanced upward,
frowning, and then his expression cleared. “Oh, sure. I’ll get them when I
return.” He turned back to Jack. “If that’s okay?”

“Of course, and I’m glad
I got to meet you. Rachel’s been helping me with the house and arranging
estimates and all sorts of things. I don’t know how I’d have managed without
her.”

He nodded. “She’s
special. Very.”

“She is.”

She followed Jeremy,
but paused as she passed Jack and gave him a quick smile as if to say, ‘see,
he’s an adult and I’m letting him live his life.’

The old worn-out items
he’d left behind upstairs in his room had been truly left behind. He was a
grown man, moving on. What did he need with a threadbare bedspread and an old
Christmas-gift sweater? It wasn’t the same as leaving one’s sister. She wasn’t
worn-out and threadbare—not yet. But she wasn’t needed either, not by him.

After his car had
vanished down the dirt road, she sat on the front steps. Not thinking, not even
teary, but feeling empty.

“You okay?” Jack asked.

She sat up straighter.
“I’m fine. He is, too.”

He surprised her and
sat on the porch beside her.

“You did a good job of
bringing him up, Rachel.”

His voice brushed her
skin and warmed her. She couldn’t find any words and simply stared ahead,
nodding.

Jack put his arm around
her shoulders, awkwardly at first, as if not knowing where to settle, but then
he did. His arm tightened and he rested his fingers on her upper arm.

“He’s going to be fine.
You will, too.”

She wanted to rest
against the warmth of him, enjoy his arm around her, but she didn’t dare—her
self-control would be lost and she’d embarrass them both. She kept her posture
stiff.

“Thanks, Jack. I
appreciate the kind words.”

Jack withdrew his arm
and patted her on the back. “Let’s get back to work. That’s always the best
thing.”

“Wait, I’ll be right
there.” She called out as she crossed the bedroom with the portfolio. Her foot
caught a chair leg, and she fell. She threw the portfolio aside rather than
land on it. As she hit the floor, the portfolio slammed into the side of the
dresser.

Heavy footsteps ran up
the stairs. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Only
clumsy.” She got to her feet.

Jack was already in the
doorway. “Are you sure? I’m leaving now.”

“Good luck. I know your
gallery showing will be fabulous.” She walked to meet him and they stood
together into the hallway.

His expression remained
serious. He looked down at a package he was holding. Blue paper with a bow.
Rachel almost said aloud, ‘that’ll never survive the plane ride without getting
crushed,’ but was cut short as Jack said, “It’s for you.”

“For me?”

He held it toward her.
“For you. A small thank you for everything you’ve done.”

She felt it keenly—that
cocoon of isolation—she’d called it independence once upon a time. It pressed
in around her. The cocoon stretched and snapped as Rachel reached out and
touched the paper. “Did you wrap the package yourself?”

Jack nodded.

“Should I open it now?”

“Now, yes, or I’ll miss
my plane.” He smiled.

Standing there in the
hall with Jack, Rachel broke the tape and pulled the paper from the box. The
box fell open and dropped to the floor unheeded as she held the gift.

“Jack, you can’t.” Oh,
no. Her eyes stung. Her lashes felt wet.

He took the peacock
shawl from her hands. He stood close to her and draped it over her shoulders.
He focused on the act of wrapping it around her as if he were sculpting a work
of art.

She touched his hand.
“Jack.”

His arms enfolded her,
pulled her to his chest, and his lips came down to hers.

His kiss swamped her
utterly. Flushed with emotion, she was lost to good sense. She welcomed his
embrace and the rough feel of his lips and gave back as good as she got until
the first rush was past. Jack withdrew his lips. With his fingers in her hair,
he eased her head back gently and met her eyes.

“Rachel. The shawl is a
gift, a thank you. I hadn’t planned to…to do more, but I won’t apologize for
the kiss. Please don’t want me to.” He searched her face with his dark eyes.
“I’m only sorry I didn’t do this sooner. Now I have to leave, and I can’t if I
don’t have your promise that you’ll be here when I return.”

“No apology. Yes, I’ll
be here when you return.” She touched his cheek, and her finger trailed down
his jawline and neck as if of its own volition.

He shivered. His arms
tightened. He asked, “Once more for goodbye?”

“No. Once more for good
luck.”

The horn honking broke
them apart.

“Brendan’s taking me to
the airport. He’ll pick me up when I return. Mike’s going to do some work on
the car. One more thing. I spoke with the management company. Betty went out on
maternity leave prematurely. Probably right after she’d spoken with Jeremy.”

Warmth surged through
her again. In a way, Kilmer was right—Jack could be temperamental. He could be
self-absorbed and rude. But the Jack she knew could also be tender and kind.
Generous, too. She touched the soft silk of the shawl to her cheek.

As soon as Jack was
gone, Rachel called Daisy and got her voicemail.

“Guess what? Jeremy
didn’t leave without notice. I’ll explain more later. And guess what else…no,
I’ll tell you about it when we speak.” She didn’t know what Daisy would make of
that message, but the giggling at the end might give her a hint.

When the portfolio had
flown, so had the poster, but with no harm done. Rachel retrieved it from the
floor, put the portfolio case on the bed, and saw thin white paper edges
peeking out from the inner edge.

She ran her fingers
inside the black interior pocket and the papers then gently tugged the papers
out.

Floor plans.
Architectural blueprints of the first and second floors of Wynnedower.
Basement, too.

All of her clumsy
attempts at drawing the layout of the myriad rooms, and here was the real thing
exposing all the nooks and crannies and secret places.

She sat on the bed and
walked her eyes through the lines and shapes of the house. The diagrams were
clear. She’d covered almost every inch of this house, personally, at least
once, except for the basement. This was a treat. Being extremely visual, her
brain accepted this information in a way that walking around hadn’t done.
Seeing the detailed big-picture flow, it all came together in her head.

But it was hard to
focus. She touched her lips. They still tingled. She flopped back onto the bed.
A week. He’d be gone a week. It seemed forever.

Yet when he came
back—well, she wasn’t going to jump ahead of the facts. She would deal with his
return when the time came, and it would work out.

Was she in love?