Crimes of the Heart (3 page)

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Authors: Laurie Leclair

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: Crimes of the Heart
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Sweat slid down into his eyes and he swiped it away with a gloved hand. Shirtless and bathed in perspiration, he rested his forearm on the handle of the pronged farm instrument, willing thoughts of Jewel away. It didn’t work this time either.

“Damn woman,” he muttered. “Damn
sexy
woman,” he corrected, picturing her in the form-fitting lavender sweater that enhanced the violet color of her eyes.

Biting down on a sudden wave of fresh desire, Devon tried to stem the flow of comparisons that sprang up. They came unbidden to him nonetheless. Gone was the pampered woman-child. She’d grown into an incredibly beautiful woman with long legs and more curves than a man dared to dream about.

Her face haunted him. From the delicately arched brows to her wide set eyes, down her long slender nose, to full cupid rosy lips, in the doll-like porcelain, heart-shaped face, all of it stirred him to his core. Grace and elegance completed the package. She was simply breathtaking.

A flicker of admiration sparked as he envisioned the feisty, determined woman who had faced him yesterday. No one had challenged him like that in a very long time. And no one had pushed his buttons the way Jewel could, yanking him back to the land of the living.

A woeful meow came from behind him and a second later a scrawny, smoky-gray cat wound its way around his jean-clad legs. Devon leaned the pitchfork against the wall, and then tugged off the work gloves, stuffing them in his back pocket. Stooping, he picked up the malnourished animal. A pang of empathy shot through him.
Man, how many times did I go hungry trying to make it on my own?

Tucking the cat under his arm, Devon scratched its head, feeling the matted furry coat against his skin. A contented purr vibrated through the skin and bones creature. “Hey, buddy, where did you come from? I think I’ve got some tuna fish in the house. Want some?”

Another loud meow gave Devon his answer. He chuckled. “I guess that means yes.”

A few minutes later in the kitchen, with curious gray feline eyes watching his every move, Devon rooted through a box of provisions he’d bought a few days ago. “Ah, here it is. Now, let me just find the can opener and we’re in business. Oh, and I’ve got some milk stashed in the cooler you’re gonna love.”

Having prepared the simple meal, Devon straddled a wobbly chair backwards and watched the cat gobble down the food. “Hey, don’t eat so fast, you’re liable to make yourself sick.” In no time at all the pink tongue licked the bowl clean. “All right, one more can, but that’s it.”

Two muffled bangs, coming from somewhere outside, reached Devon. He stilled, straining to hear more. Nothing. “Man, I must be losing it, yesterday I think I smell roses, and then hear a squeak. Today I start talking to a cat. Now I think I hear another noise.” He shook his head in disgust. “Either it’s ghosts or my mind’s going.”

He rose, and then moved to the counter to drag out the other can of tuna. More meows rent the air. “Promise me you’ll eat this one a little slower this time, Cat… Hey, I can’t keep calling you Cat, now can I? So what’s it going to be? Give me one meow for yes, and two for no way, all right? Puss in boots? Felix? Let’s see…”

 

***

 

Jewel gazed up at the once pristine house she used to call home. Where the stone facade surrounded the front entrance, she detected accumulated dirt and dinginess. As far as the rest of the exterior, the white paint had taken on a dull, graying hue. The shudders, what remained of them, hung on what was most likely their last nail. Several broken upstairs windows spoke of abandonment. Dead shrubs and large patches of brown grass told their own story. Something tugged inside of her at the air of neglect.

What would my mother’s gardens look like?
She shuddered at the image that rose to the forefront of her mind: overgrown weeds, decaying flowers, and rotting plants.

“Come on, mom, can I?”

Banishing the horrible thoughts, she turned to her son, and then smiled at his enthusiasm. Her heart swelled with love as she gazed at the joy written all over his features. “Yes, you can go explore, Sean, but don’t forget we can’t stay long.”
Just long enough for one last good-bye.

“Thanks,” he tossed over his shoulder as he raced to the stables. Hints of maghoney gleamed in his dark hair as the afternoon sun shone down on him. His lean, compact eleven-year-old body made short work of the distance.

So like his father,
Jewel mused as she followed at a much slower pace. Thoughts of Devon returned, never having been far away since seeing him again yesterday at the auction. The man he had become mingled, and then joined, with the boy he’d been. A rush of memories swirled in her mind and she was hard pressed to distinguish the past from the present.

How many times had she rushed to get to the stables where Devon awaited her? In the daytime, she’d been discreet, not allowing anyone to suspect their forbidden affair. That had only forced her to rely on adopting a shorthand form of communication with him.

With one look he’d been able to read her. She’d allowed him access to her most private thoughts and emotions, something she’d never let anyone before or since do.
Never let anyone get close again, so they won’t hurt me like he did.

With a sudden wave of trepidation, Jewel entered the stables. She blinked rapidly to adjust to the dim interior. A waft of leather and saddle soap snuck up on her. Had she imagined it or could it be real? An ache suffused her at all she’d lost, all she hadn’t appreciated when she’d had it.

“Sean?”

He popped out of a stall at the far end of the long structure. “I’m right here, mom. I’m going back outside, there’s a shed and an old barn I want to check out.”

The barn. “Not the barn, Sean, all right?”

“Ah…come on. I promise I won’t get into any trouble or anything.”

She sighed, wondering how she could turn him down. Compromise. “Just don’t climb the ladder to the loft. The boards are probably rotten up there.”
And I don’t want you to see where your father and I made love, where you were conceived.

“Great!” He ran out the back exit.

Walking through the empty building, a sense of nostalgia swept over Jewel. Oh how she loved this place, loved the horses that once resided here. It had been ages since she could afford to ride; she needed every precious penny she earned as a hairdresser to raise her son.

Smiling fondly, she peeked into several stalls Sean had apparently visited, and then stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted a half-filled wheelbarrow with a pitchfork close by.

“Someone’s been here recently. The new owners.” Berating herself, Jewel mentally retraced her steps. No sign of life had shown itself. Everything seemed vacant and uncared for.

Shoving open the nearly neck high door all the way, she entered the enclosure. She’d assumed Sean had left it ajar, but on closer inspection, she realized it was as she suspected: Someone had been working here and not too long ago.

“I’ve got to get out of here and find Sean fast before someone finds us.” She retreated several steps, and then bumped into the pitchfork. It hit her on the arm. “Ouch!”

Just as she went to rub the sore spot she heard a familiar voice yell out, “Hey, who’s in here?”

Devon. Damn, what is he doing here? Oh, my God, Sean, keep exploring for hours like you normally do. Just this once don’t listen to me and come back too soon
. Clasping her hand over her mouth she tried to cover up her sudden raspy breaths.
Maybe if I keep quiet he’ll go away, and then I’ll sneak out and go find my son before Devon discovers the truth
.

Devon, clutching the cat under one arm, strained to hear the voice again.
I know I’m not imagining it.

“Come on out, I know you’re hiding in here. It’s just a matter or time before I find you.”
Nothing.

Advancing slowly into the dimness, Devon swept his gaze over the tops of the stalls to see into the hidden recesses. He held onto the cat, figuring the animal would alert him to a presence before he came upon it.

As he drew even with the stall he’d left the equipment in, meowing sliced the air. Devon did a double take as he spotted dark hair. “Out,” he demanded to the trespasser, and then to his new feline friend, said, “Good, Cat.”

As the figure emerged, stunned wonder rushed through Devon. “Jewel?”

Her gaze landed on his bare chest, and then quickly shifted away. The heat she’d left behind seared him to his toes. She planted her hands on her hips, drawing his eyes to the way her jeans hugged her. “What, may I ask, are you doing here, Devon Marshall?”

It sounded as if she was the queen of the manor. “I think you should be answering the same question for me, missy.”

He watched as she stuck her chin out, but even in the grayish light he witnessed a streak of fear flash across those expressive eyes of hers.
Is she afraid of me?
Something twisted inside of him at the thought.

“Listen, Jewel, I’m not about to have you arrested or anything, so don’t worry.”

Confusion chased across her delicate features. “Why should you? I haven’t done anything illegal.”

“Trespassing on private property is a crime.”

She crossed her arms in front of her, making him highly aware of how much fuller her breasts had become. He swallowed hard.

One of her perfectly arched brows rose. “You never cared when the Wainwrights owned it. Since when did you become concerned about the new owners of this place anyway?”

That annoyed him. Oh, he cared all right, cared about how her father had been ruining his father’s house and business. She’d just been a dreamer, wrapped up in a fantasy world where everything would miraculously work out all right. Not him, the realist, he knew the score. “Do you want an exact time or date?” he baited, still bristling at the stark differences that he realized would always come between them.

“Either one will do.”

“Let’s see, yesterday was Saturday, and I think Gil handed me the papers around two or so. You figure it out.”

The color drained from her face. She dropped her hands to her sides, curling her fingers into her palms. “You? You’re the new owner?”

“Got it in one.” Her obvious shock should have pleased him, anything to wipe that high and mighty look off her face, one she’d never before used on him, but somehow it made him a little sick to his stomach.

Her breaths came in short pants as if she was having trouble grasping the situation. “That’s…that’s what you meant about your family’s reputation, wasn’t it? You’re trying to buy it back.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.”

She swung her head around, her gaze searching out different portions of the stables, and then swiftly moving on to another. “Does this mean you’re moving back to town? Of course it does. Oh, my God!” Finally, she focused on him as she inched backwards. “Don’t worry, I won’t be back. I’ll go now.”

“Hold up.” He moved forward as she retreated. “Listen, we’re adults now we don’t have to act as if we’re doing anything wrong if we happen to see each other.”

“Mom, you gotta come see the rusty junk I found in the shed.” A young boy’s voice grew closer as he came near the stables.

A mixture of shock and confusion rained down on Devon. “Mom?”

If he’d thought Jewel had been pale before it was nothing compared to the pasty complexion she wore now. Fear etched itself into every one of her features. Pure terror was captured in her eyes as if she faced immediate danger.

A slash of raw jealousy invaded his belly. He must have clutched the cat too tight; a screech came from the animal he still held. Easing his hold, Devon asked, “You’re a mom, Jewel? When? With who?”
Who the hell had she let that close to her?

A stillness wrapped around Jewel and him as gravel crunched beneath the boy’s footsteps. Then, when he entered the building, the hollow pounding of boards rent the tension-filled air.

Squinting, Devon looked over her shoulder, trying to get a clear view of her son. He silently cursed the darkness and what it hid.

In only seconds the tall boy slowed his steps. “Mom, you all right?”

She swallowed hard. “Yes.” In a hoarse voice, she said to Devon, “I’d…I’d like you to meet…Sean.”

“Sean? Jewel, just like my dad?”

“I named him after your father.”

The boy finally drew level with Jewel. Standing close, he clasped her hand, clearly showing his mother support.

A wave of total disbelieve shot through Devon as he stared at a replica of himself when he was just a child.
Her son is my son!

“Dad?”

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

 

Blood roared in his ears. Speechless, Devon faced Jewel, looked at the boy, and then down at the small, outstretched hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir. My mom’s told me a lot about you.” The unmistakable quiver in Sean’s voice pierced Devon’s heart.

Instincts kicked in. He clasped the hand offered to him, noting how his nearly swallowed the kid’s whole. But he marveled at the strength his son possessed.
My son.
Reluctantly he let go of his flesh and blood.

“Is this your cat?”

“He sort of adopted me.”

“Have you named him yet?”

He chuckled. It came out rusty and strained. “I can’t seem to come up with anything he likes.” Devon turned to Jewel for help on how to converse with the child. He did a double take; she seemed as if she was going to faint dead away. “Sean, maybe you could give it a shot. And while you’re at it, do you think you could feed him some more milk?”

Sean lifted the cat from Devon’s arms, cradled him close, and then scratched his head. “Cool. He looks like the color of charcoal or ashes. How’s Coal sound?” The feline meowed twice, giving notice of his dislike.

“It’s one meow for yes and two for no, so I guess its back to the drawing board. Ah…the milk’s in the cooler in the kitchen.”

“Oh, yeah.” Twisting to Jewel, he asked, “It is okay, Mom, isn’t it?”

“Sure, honey.”

Devon waited for Sean’s footsteps to fade before he began his line of questioning. Dawning beamed bright. So many things fell into place like the pieces of a puzzle. “He’s the reason why your old man disowned you.”

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