Expecting His Secret Heir (5 page)

“Not really,” Jacob responded, giving her a puzzled look.

“Trust me.” She met his look without wavering. “I've known some businessmen who couldn't care less about anything but their bottom line. They'd bring in the cheapest labor and not care who lost their livelihoods. Y'all are doing good here.”

Zach could see Sadie mulling all this over, her brain working in overdrive even though she didn't ask any more questions. She simply picked at the puzzle, trying to unravel the complicated strands.

The fact that he could discern this made him uneasy. He didn't want to read Sadie's mind. Didn't want to feel her curiosity, her disbelief that the Blackstones were good people who cared about their workers. What had happened in her life to lead her to question that?

No, he didn't want to know.

“Sadie, if your organizing skills make this as easy as serving lunch, we'll be in business in no time. Zach will be here when the truck arrives in the morning around nine. He can make sure whatever you need is carried out.”

Sure I will. Don't ask me what I want.

Then Zach wondered if his thoughts were showing on his face, because his sister was watching him—very closely.

Sadie, on the other hand, looked pretty pleased with herself. Considering how he'd treated her since she came back to town, he had to wonder why.

As his sister and Jacob moved on, Sadie smiled over at him. “Looks like it's you and me together—again.”

Was that a statement...or a threat?

Five

“I
t's the truth, I tell ya.”

Sadie couldn't help but grin at the man before her. Wearing the traditional farmer uniform of overalls, plaid shirt, ball cap and messy white hair, he was a perfect candidate for sitting on a bench in the town square. So were the other two grandfatherly types with him. But he was the talker.

“I think you're pulling my leg,” Sadie insisted, knowing it would spur him on.

“No, I would never,” he said with a sincere shake of his head. “But I betcha they're all in on it. The other cotton industries are pressuring the state to shut us down, because they want the business we've always had here. That's why all of this is happening.”

She knew old men were prime candidates to become conspiracy theorists. They had too much time to sit around and think and talk and spin events into the way they wanted to see them. So she asked, “But Blackstone Mills has been here since the town started, hasn't it?”

“And still putting out quality product,” one of the other men, Earl, said. “That's why they have to put us out of business.”

Well, as much as she'd like to brush them off, the fact that a bomb had exploded here couldn't be denied. That was deliberate malice, so someone definitely had it in for Blackstone Mills. And the police weren't talking yet.

“I still don't understand why anyone would want to put you out of business,” she said, hoping to get more gossip. “Wouldn't someone local have to be in on this? Have access to the plant?”

“Oh, they were,” Mr. Farmer breathed.

“The other textile companies found someone local to do their dirty work, we're pretty sure,” Earl said.

Farmer interrupted, “We heard about all kinds of things. Can't keep stuff like that secret. Equipment failure and missing shipments. But it was the cotton that was the kicker.”

Now they were getting somewhere. Sadie forgot about the lines of men behind her, getting loaded up by fellow workers with their safety gear after she'd streamlined the process for them. Zach had introduced her to the lead volunteer then disappeared, which she was grateful for now, because she was pretty sure these old-timers wouldn't be speaking to her with him around.

Especially about the damaged cotton crop her landlady had mentioned.

“What about the cotton?” she asked, pretending ignorance.

“Oh, that Zachary Gatlin boy did it,” Earl said, “though the police said he was innocent.”

“We aren't so sure,” Farmer said. “He's in thick with those Blackstones, so...” He shrugged. “Why they'd want to damage their own business would be a mystery, but then again, there's a lot about all this that is.”

Sadie nodded.

“But he sprayed the cotton, that's all we know. Either somebody loaded the poison in or he did it himself.”

“Now he's heading up recovery efforts, so who knows.”

“But poison the cotton, it did. Took a while, but they managed to get cotton in from elsewhere. Thank goodness, or the mill would have gone under by Christmas, for sure.”

It was the same story she'd heard from her landlady. Something didn't add up, though. “Maybe somebody was trying to frame him?” she mused.

“Frame who?”

The voice from behind her had her stiffening. There was nothing like being caught red-handed talking about someone by the person in question. The men's wide eyes clued her in to their awareness of Zach's presence. Too bad she hadn't been watching them while she was overthinking.

Quickly, she twisted around. “Zach, there you are. I was wondering what happened to you.”

Under his breath, so only she could hear, he said, “Didn't sound like it.”

Her cheeks flushed hot, but she didn't tuck her chin down the way she wanted to.
Don't show weakness.
Always her first line of defense against the world.

“Gentlemen,” he said, glancing over her shoulder. “Glad to see you here. Thanks for supporting us.” Then he clasped her elbow. “If you'll excuse us.”

He pulled her away, quickly enough that she had to double her short steps to keep up. Looking back, she noticed the men talking and laughing. Goodness only knew what they thought he wanted with her, but whatever their assumption, they thought it was amusing.

Not breaking stride, Zach marched her around the side of the parking area to a more isolated spot before turning to face her. “What was that about?”

“What do you mean?” She had a feeling her innocent look wasn't going to work here.

She was right.

“What right do you have to talk about me, about my life, with the people of this town?”

“Well, technically the conversation didn't start out that way—”

“I don't care how it started.” His voice rose enough to sting her ears. “Just that it stops. Now.”

Unbidden, Sadie could feel her backbone stiffening and her expression becoming a blank mask. A lifetime in service had taught her how to deal with difficult people, usually men, and their expressions of displeasure. She instinctively took steps to protect herself, even if walking away from the situation wasn't an option. Which it usually wasn't.

Her voice was awfully formal when she spoke. “I'm sorry you feel that way, but I was simply asking about the mill and they offered information. I didn't dig into anything.”

“I heard you asking questions.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. If he thought she would just take this, he was mistaken. He didn't know her as well as he thought. “A question. You heard me ask a question about you, and that's after Earl brought you up.” She cocked her head to the side. “But I do have another question.”

“I'm not telling you anything about myself.” His snarl said she didn't deserve it.

Which she didn't. “And thus my question. Why do you care if I ask?”

* * *

Zachary Gatlin hated being caught off guard. He'd spent his military career planning for the unexpected, but that didn't mean he liked it.

Luckily, Sadie didn't wait for an answer.

“Look,” she said, “I have to ask questions. How else am I gonna know what to take pictures of? Who to take pictures of? Talking to people is part of that.”

She cocked her jeans-clad hip, the hand she propped there drawing his eye more than he liked. “If that's a problem, I can do it on my own. After all, you are only supposed to escort me through the mill.”

“No,” he said through clenched teeth. Not just from his anger, either. Being only a foot away from her seemed to be causing his entire body to go haywire. “That's not what Jacob meant, and you know it.”

“I know nothing of the sort.” Her brows rose. He didn't remember her being so sassy before. This time she was pushing all his buttons. “I only know that the mill is dangerous right now and they want you with me when I go inside. That's the only sure thing.”

“It's my job to make sure
everything
you go over is safe.” They both knew what his emphasis meant, even if she wanted to pretend otherwise.

“Then I guess you'd better stick a little closer, don't you think?”

For a split second, that sassy pink mouth and raised brow made Zach drop his protective barriers. Without thought, he stepped in. Her back hit the wall behind her. His hand planted right above her shoulder. There was barely a hand's breadth between their chests. Their lips were even closer.

Zach's heart moved into double time.
Remain impassive.
But he couldn't when his entire body was straining to press in close and make contact in the most primitive way he knew how.
Touch.

Their breath mingled. He allowed one point of contact. Only one, when he wanted so many more. He reached out with his other hand and curled it around her waist, soaking in the warmth of her body beneath the T-shirt she wore.

“Oh, I'm gonna stick pretty damn close, sweetheart,” he said, relishing her eyes going wide with something akin to nerves. “I'll be keeping an eye on every move you make. Every word you speak. Every picture you take.” No matter how creepy that might be.

He could be dedicated to his job, couldn't he? “No more snooping behind my back.”

“Roger that,” she whispered.

It was the barest brush of her lip against his that broke the hold she had over his body. That accidental contact shook him to his core—which was the last thing he wanted her to know. So he stepped back. Removed his hand. Controlled his breathing.

And met her gaze. He could have sworn she'd just gotten exactly what she wanted.

Which filled his mind with images of other times she'd gotten what she wanted, only they were much more intimate things, things he didn't want to remember when he was standing this close to her.

Then she threw him off guard again. “I'm sorry,” she whispered.

Zach blinked, not switching gears fast enough. “What?”

“I'm sorry that you're angry with me.”

He met her eyes, studying their green depths, not sure if he wanted to go back to the time when he'd known her before. But his body spoke before his mind could catch up. “But you're not sorry you left?”

Her expression flattened, her pale skin going almost white. The spare sprinkle of freckles on her cheeks stood out in contrast. “I didn't have a choice,” she finally said.

“Zach?” someone called before he could push for more. He forced himself to pull back, to let his arm fall to his side, to clench his teeth together so he wouldn't ask why. Then he deliberately turned his head to the side, blocking her out.

Because he didn't need to know why. Knowing that she had walked away was more than enough.

Six

“Z
ach, are you ready?”

Sadie tore her gaze from Zach to look at Jacob Blackstone, who stood about five feet from them. To her embarrassment, she had to blink a moment before her gaze would focus on him. Instead she wanted nothing more than to turn back to Zach and press her lips to his. No matter who was looking.

So close.

But Zach wouldn't be there waiting. He strode toward his future brother-in-law, not looking back. “Yeah, I'm ready.”

“Ready for what?” she asked.

“They've cleared us to take a preliminary tour inside before the workers go into the parts of the building that were damaged to start cleanup.”

She glanced at Zach's retreating back. For someone who said he wasn't letting her out of his sight, he sure was moving away at a fast clip.

“Are you coming?” Jacob asked. Sadie found herself on the receiving end of his inquisitive look.

“Yes, if I may,” she said. Apparently, Zach wasn't so far away he hadn't heard that, because his shoulders had straightened, hard.

Jacob led her back to the trailer and got some boots and coveralls in her size. Once she was dressed and had collected her camera, she approached the men again where they stood with two soot-covered figures with clipboards. She steeled herself as Zach turned toward her, but he held out a bright yellow hard hat. “This, too,” he said simply.

Jacob introduced her to the fire inspectors, then they headed for the building entrance. To her surprise, a large group of workmen formed a crowded semicircle near the door. Jacob paused to shake a few hands and speak, but the still, respectful patience of the hundred or so people brought out an emotional response in Sadie.

She wasn't used to this. She had more experience with the spoiled variety of the human species. But the simple look on their faces told her this place meant something to them. When Jacob gave the word that it was time, they'd put their backs into rebuilding it—paycheck or no.

Stepping back, she got some wide-angle shots of the crowd, then the entrance. As she took her turn stepping through, her chest tightened. To be the first to see the destruction of this place felt significant. And this wasn't even the worst part of the damage. Her hold on her camera got a little tighter. Hopefully she'd be able to do her subject some justice.

The smell of smoke lingered in the air outside the building, but it hadn't prepared her for the thickness of it inside. It seemed to immediately dry out her throat and threaten to choke her. She found herself panting, trying to limit the air's access to her lungs.

The outer rooms were relatively intact except for their blackened walls, but as they traveled deeper, more damage began to appear. Bubbled paint, peeled portions of Sheetrock, black marks following trails that she assumed were electrical wires in the walls.

“Wow,” said a masculine voice near her.

Sadie turned her head to see a big bear of a man staring down the hallway. The hard movement of his Adam's apple told her just how much seeing this affected him.

The rest of the group that had come in were just ahead, leaving Sadie and the man behind a bit. “What did you do here?” she asked.

There was no doubt he had worked here. Someone didn't view a building, especially an industrial building, with such emotion if there wasn't a personal tie.

He turned to her as if he hadn't realized she was there. He blinked rapidly. She knew the feeling well. Working in Sheldon Hall for the Beddingfield family, she'd learned early on all the tricks to hiding those telltale signs of emotion. Instead of pushing, she waited to see if he was interested in talking to her or wanted to be left alone.

Once under control, he offered a halfhearted smile. “Oh, I'm Bateman, the day shift foreman.”

She snapped a few pictures of the group ahead of them, getting a long-range perspective, so the foreman wouldn't feel as if she was too focused on him. “So you must have worked here a long time to reach that position,” she surmised.

“Since I was a young'un,” he said, and this time his smile was more genuine. She smiled back, her heart softening even more.

He went on. “I was hired by the old Mr. Blackstone himself. I tell you, I about wet my pants that day.”

“Intimidating?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, moving forward once more. “He was a fierce one. I just happened to get lucky—or unlucky, as it were. The hiring manager was sick the day of my interview. But I must have passed muster, because he hired me on the spot. I was seventeen.”

They picked their way down halls, pausing beside rooms with water and smoke damage. Sadie managed some more artistic photos of the damage, along with pictures of Bateman while he surveyed the areas. The deeper they journeyed into the building, the harder it became for Sadie to breathe, though she tried not to let it show. Her body felt hot, as if it could still feel the flames, even though she knew that was impossible.

The effects of the explosion became more evident as they proceeded. Sadie could tell they were coming closer to the heart of the plant. Closer to the connection to the admin building where the bomb had been placed. Here pieces of the ceiling were missing; what parts of the walls were left were completely charred and the smoke lay like a blanket over them.

Bateman paused just inside the entrance to a long, cavernous room. As Sadie paused next to him, she noticed the remnants of two-by-fours that had once formed wall dividers, the twisted metal remnants of filing cabinets against the far walls. This room had once been either offices or cubicles. At the far end of the room, the group of men ahead of them also paused. Sadie tried not to watch but couldn't miss Zach's proud bearing and confident interactions with those around him.

Her heart ached, even if she didn't want to acknowledge it. So she turned back to Bateman.

“Since seventeen? That is a long time.”

Bateman's smile was tinged with something sad. “Yes, I've been here a long time. My sons work here. And last year my grandson came to work here, too.”

“Your family is very important to you.”

“Always.” Again she saw that sheen of tears, though he tried to hide it by turning his face in the other direction. “If this place closes, what will happen to us? We've always been close. But they're already looking for jobs elsewhere.”

Sadie rarely found herself in this position in her day job, but she'd spent more than her fair share of time in hospitals. Her natural compassion asserted itself. She couldn't help patting his arm, though she pretended not to see his tears. Grown men almost always preferred it that way.

“I don't think that will be necessary,” she said, hoping her words would soothe him. “From the sounds of it, the Blackstones are gonna do everything they can to keep that from happening.”

In her peripheral vision, she saw Bateman blink several times and nod. To give him more privacy, she glanced back at the other men—and found Zach's dark stare trained on her.

This time, she couldn't look away. She felt almost paralyzed by the intensity, as if by sheer will he could see deep inside her.

And for once, she wished she could show him.

Suddenly the connection broke as Zach glanced up and his eyes widened. “Watch out,” he yelled.

Sadie quickly followed his example and looked at the ceiling. Her mind barely registered some kind of debris falling before she flung her hands out to push Bateman away.

It happened fast. She pushed. Bateman pulled. Pain slashed across her cheek. The camera shattered. They both went down, then Sadie saw stars across her field of vision before everything went blank.

* * *

“Really, I'm fine.”

Zach watched as Sadie went a few rounds with the nurse in the temporary first aid center they had set up.

“No, you're not. That cut needs stitches,” the nurse, Marty, said.

If anything, Sadie paled even more. “Just butterfly it.”

“And mar that gorgeous face forever?” The young guy was aghast. And no, that slinky dark emotion wheedling into Zach was not jealousy—or any form of territorial assertion. “No, ma'am.”

As others crowded the opening behind him, Zach turned to KC and Jacob, who both wore concerned expressions. “How is she?” KC whispered.

Zach answered at the same volume, for some reason not wanting Sadie to know they were talking about her. “Very unhappy in the face of treatment.” An unusually strong panic had graced her features every time any mention was made of going to the hospital. She seemed to only want to go back to the B and B and pretend she was fine. Zach did not care for the curiosity leaking into his thoughts. “And she'll be even more unhappy when she realizes what happened to her camera.”

There was a general chorus of winces before the nurse joined their little group. “She'll need some stitches for that cut on her face. The hard hat did its job. Still, I'd feel better if she wasn't gonna be alone tonight. Especially once she's got some pain meds in her.”

There were a lot of logical solutions to this problem. Sadie could stay at Blackstone Manor with Aiden and Christina. After all, Christina was a nurse. But she was pregnant and Ms. Blackstone, the brothers' mother, had been fighting some kind of infection lately.

KC—or hell, even Zach's mother—could take care of Sadie overnight.

So why did he hear himself saying, “I'll do it.”

He ignored the myriad glances that swung his way. “She'll be more comfortable at the B and B with her own stuff,” he said, offering a fairly reasonable excuse. “And I'm the only single person with no kids in this bunch.”

Marty gave him a nod, as if this were the given option. “I'll get some instructions put together, but I imagine you know what warning signs to look for?”

He sure did. Zach's military background had trained him for this and a whole lot more. Unfortunately, he'd had to put that knowledge into practice a time or two. Times he'd prefer to not just forget but to completely obliterate from his memory.

Marty went back to his patient and the others talked quietly together in that intimate way couples had. Zach watched as Bateman lumbered in across the small space. He knelt by Sadie's chair, the movement oddly humble in a man his size.

Sadie smiled at the older man, then immediately winced. As they talked, Zach thought back to earlier, to Sadie's comforting hand on Bateman's arm, to her push to get him out of the direct path of the falling debris... All those things matched the Sadie he remembered from before she'd pulled her disappearing act.

The new Sadie had been more of a challenge, demanding, secretive almost—instead of just sweet. He didn't want to be intrigued, yet he was.

What had brought on those changes? Obviously there was some of that sugary-sweet woman in there somewhere—so where had the new spice come from?

Zach suddenly realized Sadie was staring at him, her big moss-green eyes uncertain and almost fearful. The nurse must have told her about tonight's sleeping arrangements. He didn't care if it was the coward's way out; he made a quick exit.

There was still work to do—and if it helped him avoid any questions, all the better.

But he couldn't avoid Sadie a couple of hours later as he drove her slightly dopey self back to the B and B. He'd gotten her key before they'd left the mill.

When they went inside, there was no nosy landlady in the lobby to ask too many questions. Sadie leaned into him on the stairs. He told himself it would be rude to make her climb them on her own in her current shaky state. If only he could just ignore the softness of her body as it pressed against his—in such an achingly familiar fit. The light caramel scent of her hair stirred an all-too-base hunger. He felt the echo of anticipation from another time when he had been leading her to bed.

No matter how many times he told himself it couldn't happen between them again, his urges were steadily drowning out the voice of reason.

“You don't have to do this,” Sadie said in the same sexy drawl that featured in his memories of that one emotion-charged night five years ago.

“I take my job very seriously,” he said as he unlocked her room and led her inside.

“I see that,” she said, swaying slightly where she stood. Apparently Sadie couldn't handle pain meds very well. “You've always gone above and beyond.”

Zach didn't deny it. That was a part of his nature he couldn't get rid of. Whether he was writing a grocery list, doing a job or taking care of his family, he was usually in whole hog.

A cute frown scrunched up Sadie's usually open features. “But I can take care of myself,” she said. She shuffled toward the dresser. “After all, I've been doing it all my life.”

He refrained from pointing out that she would have been driving impaired if he had let her go home alone, and watched her pull out pajamas. She shuffled to what he assumed was the bathroom and shut herself inside.

Right, he'd conveniently forgotten about the stubborn streak.

Dropping the overnight bag he kept stowed in his SUV, Zach strolled over and sank onto the couch to wait, banging his knee against the little coffee table in the process. The laptop before him sprang to life.

Four pictures filled the screen, all of him. These weren't the classic survey pictures he was used to seeing. Each one was artistically composed with strategic lighting and showed him absorbed in some task. Except for the one in the bottom right corner, in which he stared straight ahead with a sad look on his face.

The pictures had an indefinable quality portraying not just his emotion but the photographer's as well. Almost a wistful, yearning feel.

Looking at them, it hit him—Sadie had missed him after all.

The bathroom door opened. Somehow, Zach knew Sadie would not want him to see these pictures. With a flick of his wrist, he closed the laptop.

He looked away so he could avoid seeing the sway of her breasts beneath the short, fitted nightie she wore. Unlike the oversize T-shirts his sister had preferred as a teenager, Sadie was all girl when it came to pajamas and underwear.