A Reason to Love (10 page)

•   •   •

Half an hour later, he checked his phone to see if Mel had called back, only to find she’d texted him instead. Evidently, she’d had to go into the office early, but she promised to leave him the keys to her father’s car under the planter on the patio. He was free to use it for as long as he needed it.

Spence stared at the message and frowned. It was a generous offer, one he should appreciate. Instead, what he was feeling was a lot closer to disappointment than gratitude. Not because she hadn’t given him what he needed, but because he’d missed a chance to talk to her.

It was his fault. He should’ve postponed his shower until the phone rang. But then again, she hadn’t called, had she? Texting was efficient but impersonal. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted to hear Mel’s voice, to make sure that last night hadn’t changed things between them. God knows he hadn’t handled the situation all that smoothly.

But that kiss had been . . . amazing.

He didn’t blame her at all for stopping him when he got grabby even if it left him edgy until after midnight. He’d expected the lack of sleep to leave him dragging this morning, but the combination of that encounter with Melanie last night and Mooch’s unexpected appearance had left him feeling energized.

“Come on, dog. We’ve got places to go and things to do.” He reached down to pat Mooch on the head. “And if you play your cards right, one of those things might just include a stop at the store for some dog food.”

As Mooch trotted out the door, he sneezed three times. Spence laughed at the dog. It might have been purely coincidence, but it sounded more as if Mooch was expressing his opinion on the subject of kibble. While the dog would eat the stuff, he’d always preferred to share Spence’s army rations with him. Whoever heard of a dog with a craving for MREs?

Nose to the ground, Mooch ranged back and forth across the yard on the way to Melanie’s patio. It was good to see the dog looking well fed and happy. At least one good thing had come out of the time Spence had spent in Afghanistan.

The keys and a garage door opener were hidden right where Melanie had said they would be. He let Mooch into the passenger seat of the station wagon before walking around to the driver’s side. After cracking the passenger window for Mooch, he drove out of the garage and headed for the closest grocery store.

•   •   •

An hour later, he and Mooch were in the cab of a fully loaded flatbed truck. The foreman had gone over the list of deliveries with Spence, refreshing his memory on how to match up order numbers to make sure each customer got the right items. One name at the bottom of the list had Spence’s stomach churning: Nick Jenkins.

There went his good mood. As tempting as it was to get that particular delivery over with first, he couldn’t do it. The various orders were arranged in a specific pattern on the truck that matched the time frame given to the customers as to when they could expect their delivery.

Cursing under his breath, Spence drove out of the parking lot and headed for his first stop. He could do this. He would do this, if for no other reason than he’d promised Melanie he’d get the job done.

Hell, how many times had he walked into enemy fire without hesitation? By comparison, delivering a couple of doors to Nick and Leif should be a piece of cake.

He reached over to pat his partner for this mission on the head. “You distract them while I unload the doors. Once we achieve the objective, we’ll retreat to safety and get the hell out of Dodge. How does that sound?”

Mooch sighed and stretched out on the seat. Spence laughed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

M
elanie stood at the window and watched the truck pull out of the parking lot. She’d deliberately stayed up in her office the whole time Spence was downstairs in the factory. Cowardly? Yeah, maybe, but she wasn’t up to facing him yet.

He’d sounded so normal when he called this morning to ask for a ride for him and the dog. She wasn’t sure what to make of that. Either he didn’t realize what he’d said last night or else he didn’t care, which didn’t seem likely. There was a third option, she supposed. In the best of all worlds, he had said her name and not Callie’s. She wished she knew for sure.

Jealousy was an ugly emotion, and she wasn’t proud of herself for giving in to it. After all, Callie was married now to a man who clearly made her very happy. Their love for each other had been forged in the pain of their shared grief over Spence’s death and tempered by the peace they found in each other’s arms.

Callie wasn’t the kind of woman who would have married a man if he was only a substitute for the one she’d lost. Melanie knew her friend better than that, but right now she was flashing back to high school when she’d be at Callie’s house and Spence would drop by. God, how she’d envied their easy relationship, the way they’d laugh and tease each other while she sat in the corner and watched.

To be honest, Spence wasn’t the only guy who’d left her tongue-tied back then, but he’d been the only one she’d had a crush on during their senior year. At some point she’d realized that part of the attraction stemmed from the fact that in a lot of ways they were both outsiders looking in. People treated her differently because of who her family was. She guessed that was to be expected when both she and the high school they all attended shared the same name.

Spence’s problems stemmed from his family, too, but for far different reasons. By all reports, his adoptive parents had been good people, and he’d been happy with them. It was only after their death and his maternal uncle became his guardian that Spence’s life had all gone to hell. Vince Locke had a well-deserved reputation as a mean bastard, and he had made life tough for his nephew.

Spence had responded by running wild. Her parents had frequently warned her to stay away from him, and she didn’t argue. Fortunately, they never realized how much time he’d spent at Callie’s house, and Melanie hadn’t told them. As teenage rebellions went, hers had been pretty pathetic.

“Ms. Wolfe?”

Melanie turned away from both her past and the window to face her secretary. These days they were usually called executive assistants, but the job title was one more proof how old school her father had been.

“Yes, Mrs. Cuthbert?”

“Your aunt is on line two. She said it’s not an emergency or anything. She can call back later if that would be more convenient.”

Did Melanie look too busy to take a call? Or was the woman hinting that she wasn’t busy enough? Gosh, she resented feeling as if she had to justify herself to the secretary, but she’d spent her high school summers working directly under Mrs. Cuthbert. Neither one of them was particularly comfortable with the sudden reversal in their roles.

Crossing to her desk, Melanie picked up a stack of folders and held them out to the other woman. “I finished reading through the correspondence and signed all the letters, so you can have them back. I also completed that additional paperwork the bank asked for. They said to fax it to them since that’s faster and easier than mailing it.”

She regretted making the suggestion as soon as the words were out of her mouth. They had a fax machine now because Melanie had bought it out of her own pocket. The older woman avoided using it as much as possible because she wasn’t comfortable with new technology of any kind. Melanie bit back the need to point out that she never would be if she didn’t even try.

Mrs. Cuthbert backed toward the door, her mouth a flat slash. “I’ll take care of it, Ms. Wolfe.”

Melanie waited until she was gone before reaching for the phone. Even if it wasn’t an emergency, an unexpected call from her aunt couldn’t be a good thing. She took a deep breath and hoped for the best. “Aunt Marcia, how are you?”

Her mother’s sister was never one to mince words. “Fine, but I’m calling about your mother.”

What else was new? Melanie leaned back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling. “What’s happened now?”

“She wants you to send more of her things. I told her to make a list and e-mail it to you tonight.”

The other woman had hesitated before continuing. Then her words ran together as she spoke as if she couldn’t get them out fast enough. She probably suspected they would upset Melanie. She wasn’t wrong. It was tempting to refuse, but what good would that do? If she didn’t send the stuff, her mother would most likely go on a shopping spree. Neither of them could afford that right now.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to wish away the headache that was coming on. “I assume this means she has no immediate plans to come back home.”

Her aunt’s voice softened. “I’m sorry, Melanie, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon, if ever. We both know that without your father, she’s like a boat without a rudder. She doesn’t understand what happened to all their money.”

The image fit, except maybe the boat was also sinking. “She won’t believe me when I tell her it’s gone no matter how many times I’ve tried to explain it all to her. She blames me even if I’m only the messenger. If it wasn’t me who lost it all, she’d have to admit that it was Dad.”

It was same discussion they’d had several times in the past few weeks. “I hate to speak ill of my own sister, but sometimes I want to shake some sense into her. Your father was a good man, but he wasn’t infallible, especially when it came to money. He treated her like a princess and spoiled her rotten in the process. He didn’t do her any favors, and now you’re having to play the heavy because of it.”

At least with her aunt, Melanie didn’t have to pretend that everything was all right. “Tell her to send the list, and I’ll ship everything as soon as I have time to pull it all together.”

“I’ll do that.” Her aunt sighed heavily. “Hon, I know it’s hard for you having her all the way down here while you try to deal with everything on your own, but we both know that Sandra wouldn’t be any help at all. It’s better that she’s down here transforming my yard into a thing of beauty.”

It was nice to know her mom was interested in something. For the first three weeks after her husband’s death, all she’d done was sit and stare at their wedding portrait over the fireplace. “Working in the garden was always her great love. Tell her I’m doing my best to keep our yard up to her standards.”

Her aunt laughed. “Good luck with that. I swear Sandra manicures my grass with scissors, and any weeds that dare to pop up end up running for their lives.”

Melanie laughed. It was that or cry. “Well, I should get back to work. Hug Mom for me, and I’ll transfer some more money to her account at the end of the week.”

“I’ve got plenty for both of us, Melanie, so hold on to that money if you need it.”

Evidently, Melanie’s father wasn’t the only one in the family with too much pride to ask for financial help. “I’ll send it, Aunt Marcia. She’ll feel better if she has her own spending money.”

“All right, but the offer stands. I’ll keep you posted on how she’s doing.”

“Thanks. And it really helps to know you’re looking out for her.”

“It’s the least I can do. Tell me, and I want an honest answer about this. Are you doing more than rattling around in that house by yourself? Don’t sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of your family name.”

Melanie debated whether or not to tell her aunt about Spence moving in to the housekeeper’s cottage. Considering how her mother had always felt about Spence and his uncle, maybe it was better to keep it to herself until she knew how long he was going to stay. There was no use in getting her mom all worked up over it if he was only staying a short time.

“I’m mostly doing fine, but I’d better get back to work. Hugs to you both.”

After hanging up, she yanked open the bottom drawer of her desk. If there was ever a time to dig into her secret stash of dark chocolate, this was it. Not even the milk chocolate would do. She grabbed a handful and dropped them on the desk. After staring at the small pile for a few seconds, she counted out five pieces and put the rest back. Over the months after having her whole life turned inside out, she’d developed her own chocolate-to-crisis ratio where really bad days went as high as ten to one. It was a stretch to say that finding out that her mom wasn’t coming home anytime soon warranted even three.

But if she threw in her doubts about last night and Spence, surely she was justified in taking two extras. Unwrapping the first one, she popped it in her mouth and took the time to savor the soothing flavor on her tongue. After that, she unwrapped another one and opened the next folder on her desk.

While she started through the facts and figures in front of her, she spared a second to wonder how Spence was doing on the deliveries. Was he like her, falling into old routines and feeling as if he’d never really been gone? She’d have to ask him sometime, but for now she really had to get back to work.

•   •   •

Spence pulled into the driveway and stopped. This would be the first time he’d seen his family home in nearly two years. His parents had been gone since his early teens. No matter how many times he reminded himself of that fact, somehow he always expected to see them sitting on the front porch whenever he came back.

He ought to be embarrassed by how run-down he’d let the place get over the years. Certainly, Callie’s folks shouldn’t have to live next to a complete dump. For him, though, the overgrown grass and faded paint served as a reminder of all that he’d lost and that his parents weren’t waiting there for him.

However, back when he was in the hospital in Germany, he’d carefully studied the Web site Callie had created to showcase her plans for the bed-and-breakfast. Intellectually, he knew that they had done far more than mow the grass. That didn’t mean he was ready emotionally to witness the changes firsthand.

“Damn it, dog, I so don’t want to do this.”

Mooch had been dozing in the seat beside him until Spence slowed to make the turn into the driveway. Now he had his nose out the window and was yipping softly as he waited impatiently for Spence to drive the rest of the way to the house.

“Okay, fine, but don’t think we’ll be hanging around for any length of time. We’ll drop off the doors and then head back to the factory to meet up with Mr. Cosgrove. I promised him treats from Bridey’s place, which I still have to buy. You’d better be ready to leave when I am, dog, or you’re on your own.”

He put the truck in gear and rolled forward. As soon as he saw the house, he slammed the brakes on again, sending his poor companion scrambling for purchase on the slick vinyl bench seat. Spence grabbed Mooch by the collar and hauled him over onto his lap.

The place had been . . . Transformed was the only word he could come up with. The grass had been recently mowed, the flower beds were neatly edged, and the bushes had all been trimmed. His eyes burned as he studied the house itself. The sagging gutters had been replaced or at least repaired, and someone had been scraping the peeling paint off the siding.

The house was far from perfect; it was obvious there was a ton of work left to be done. Yet it was clear that someone cared about the place again, something that had been missing for years. It made him feel ashamed that he’d let it get so bad in the first place.

As he pulled around the circular drive in front of the house, Nick stepped out on the porch. Leif wasn’t far behind. The only one missing from the party was Callie. Spence really hoped she wouldn’t put in an appearance. There was no telling how this was going to play out, and she didn’t deserve to get caught in any cross fire.

“Come on, Mooch. You owe them an apology for worrying them so much.”

The dog shot him a look that clearly said
Look who’s talking!

Maybe that was Spence’s conscience talking, but maybe not. The dog always seemed to understand far more than he should. Neither of them was going to accomplish anything by hiding in the truck. He climbed down out of the cab and stood back to let Mooch hop down after him.

The two of them rounded the front of the truck but made no attempt to join the other two men up on the porch. “I’ve got your doors.”

Nick ignored him and glared at the dog instead. “I should kick your flea-bitten ass from here to hell and back for worrying Callie like that.”

Mooch broke formation and trotted up the steps to sit in front of Nick and Leif. He didn’t move an inch, not even to wag his tail, until the two men finally gave up and welcomed him home. So maybe Spence hadn’t needed to buy that dog food after all.

“Where do you want me to put the doors?”

Leif straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest, his feet planted wide. There wasn’t even a hint of a smile when he said, “Wheels, do you really want me to tell you where you can stick those?”

Spence didn’t rise to the bait, mainly because it felt too much like old times. Meanwhile, Nick had squatted down to pet Mooch. “Anywhere is fine. I’ll give you a hand.”

Spence wanted to refuse. He couldn’t bring himself to be that petty, especially when he realized Callie had just stepped out of the woods that separated his place from her folks’ yard.

“Fine.”

He hated the feel of those three pairs of eyes boring into his back as he vaulted onto the back of the truck. He did his best to ignore them and began untying the two cardboard containers that held the two doors. The truck lurched to one side as Nick climbed up to help him.

They worked in silence. When they were done, Nick climbed back down to catch the box as Spence slid it over the side. Leif came down off the porch to help, his gait uneven as if his left leg was stiff or something. Then Spence noticed the cane leaning against the column on the porch.

What the hell had happened to him?

Nick met his gaze over the small expanse of cardboard that separated them. “He almost lost his lower leg in the explosion. Some days are worse than others.”