Harmony Cabins (4 page)

Her eyes widened. Her spine stiffened. Was that rustling? Was it coming from the bushes? What was causing it? The wind? A bear? A coyote? What was that other animal her mother had listed?
Oh, my God!

Her heartbeat outpaced her thoughts. In her mind, she saw herself racing into the cabin and bolting the door behind her. In reality, her body wouldn't move. She was fossilized with fear.
Oh, my God!
Audra strained again to listen. If it was a bear, would it chase her if she ran? How fast did bears move? Should she lie on the stairs and pretend to be dead?

“Hello, Ms. Lane.” Jack stepped from the bushes and entered the pool of light spilling from her cabin.

“Oh, my God.” Audra pressed her hand to her chest. Her voice shook with residual terror. She was as breathless as though she'd run a forty-yard dash in less than three minutes. “You scared the
crap
out of me.”

“Sorry.” He slipped his hands into the front pockets of his baggy brown shorts. His muscles rippled under his short-sleeved forest green T-shirt.

“I thought you were a bear.” Audra struggled to catch her breath.

“I'm not.”

With anyone else, Audra would have thought he was trying to be funny. But Jack didn't appear to have a sense of humor. He didn't appear to be very talkative, either. His conversation was so sparse it bordered on nonexistent.

She gave him a suspicious look just in case. “Are there bears or other wild animals nearby?”

“Not usually.”

Audra grasped the neckline of her robe. Her gaze darted to the shadowed outline of the trees behind him before narrowing on his face—or what she could see of it hidden between his unkempt hair and overgrown beard. “Why were you skulking in the bushes?”

“I wasn't.”

She gave him a sharp look. Did she hear humor in his voice? Was he laughing at her? Impossible. “What were you doing then?”

“Walking, Ms. Lane.” Jack shrugged.

The movement reminded Audra of the way he'd looked, ripping his T-shirt off over his head, and the sight even from a distance of his hard, sculpted, sweaty torso.

Audra gave herself a mental shake. “You don't have to call me ‘Ms. Lane.' I'd rather you used my first name.”

Jack cocked his head to the side. “What is it?”

“I . . . I gave it to you.” The lie didn't sit well.

Jack shook his head. “‘Penny Lane' isn't your name. It's a Beatles song.”

Audra was speechless. Jack had known she was lying all along. His dark, direct gaze remained steady on hers. He didn't seem angry. He seemed curious—and slightly amused.

She found her voice. “Some people are named after songs.”

“You weren't.”

Audra couldn't continue the lie. He'd seen right through it. She wasn't comfortable with misleading him, anyway. But suppose he recognized her real name? Benita had warned her against telling people who she was. Well, it was a chance she'd have to take. Besides, Jack didn't strike her as a groupie.

“My name is Audra Lane.”

Jack narrowed his gaze. “Really?”

Audra smiled at his suspicion. “Yes, that's really my name.”

Jack studied Audra Lane's mass of dark curls, searched her makeup-free features, then considered her worn and faded yellow cotton robe. Her bare toes peeked from beneath its hem.

It was hard to reconcile this fresh-faced young woman with the sleek and sophisticated star whose photo had been all over the Internet after she'd earned the Grammy Award for Song of the Year. He probably shouldn't tell her that, though. For one thing, she might get offended. For another, she obviously didn't want to be recognized. Why else would she take a fake name, even one as ridiculous as “Penny Lane”?

“Hello, Audra Lane.”

“Hello, Jackson Elijah Sansbury.” She smiled at his surprised expression. “The people at Books and Bakery told me you were the great-great-grandson of the town's founder.”

“Did they?” Jack's jaw tightened. What else had they told her?

“Don't try to deny it.” Her smile blossomed into a grin that seemed to bathe him in warmth right down to his bones. “Five independent sources confirmed Ramona McCloud's information. I think it's pretty cool.”

“Do you?” He needed to leave. Every kind word, hint of humor, and soft smile chipped away at his protective walls. He was starting to feel human again. He wasn't ready for that.

“What are you doing out so late?”

“Insomnia.” The reminder of his inability to sleep brought back his irritation like a comfortable old coat.

She gave him a knowing nod as she rose to her feet. “Then you and I have that in common.”

She was a little over average height, but she seemed shorter than she'd appeared in the photos he'd found on the Internet. And her robe covered the killer legs her garbage bag minidress had exposed. Shame
.

He finally processed her comment. “You have insomnia?”

“Yes.” She tightened the belt to her robe. “Is your insomnia the reason you've wandered to my cabin?”

He felt another unfamiliar trace of humor. “Walking relaxes me.”

Her gaze swept their surroundings—the tall, old trees and the gravel path that bisected the well-manicured lawn. “I can understand why. I'm surprised more people haven't discovered this place. It's a hidden treasure.”

Warmth of pride and pleasure battled the coldness within him. “I don't advertise.”

“Why not?”

“Don't want guests.”

Audra's winged eyebrows flew up beneath her bangs. “Why own the cabins if you don't intend to rent them?”

Jack folded his arms over his chest. “It's a hobby.”

“Some hobby.” Audra chuckled. “I guess I should consider myself lucky to have connections. How do you know Benita Hawkins?”

“It's a small town.”

She wrapped her arms around her slender figure. “Yes, it is. I'm not used to this much quiet or the lack of streetlights.”

“Then why are you here?”

Audra chuckled. “I keep asking myself the same thing.” She turned to reenter her cabin. “Good night, Jackson Elijah Sansbury. I hope we both sleep well.”

“Good night.” Jack stayed long enough to watch her close the door behind herself. Then he turned to head back to his cabin.

He hadn't felt this alive in a long time, a very long time. His senses were heightened. The stars that blanketed the sky shone brighter. The scent of the evergreens bordering the path was stronger. The leaves rustling in the midnight breeze sounded like music. But since he felt more energized than he had felt in months—possibly years—would he be able to sleep at all tonight?

CHAPTER 4

Muffled hammering shattered the still morning. Audra followed it down the graveled trail bisecting a nearby clearing. As she'd suspected, Jack was wielding a hammer on the porch steps of a neighboring cabin identical to hers. Her footsteps crunching on the path must have alerted him. He stood as she approached.

His left bicep bunched as he wiped sweat from his forehead. His onyx gaze fixed on her. His eyes were so compelling—secretive, dark, and vulnerable—for such a gruff, tough man.

Audra's gaze drifted from his impressive arm and chest muscles to his hair. It was past time for him to redo his braids, if that was the style he wanted. They were so unruly—Audra couldn't determine his intent. Was he trying to invent a new look? His beard could use some tidying as well. Were small woodland animals nesting in there?

“Good morning.” Audra savored this new opportunity to get the stingy cabin owner to string together a more generous sentence, something longer than five words.

“Morning.”

She was just warming up. “What are you doing?”

“Repairs.”

Hmmm, this is harder than it seems.
Audra racked her brain for a question that would require more than a one- or two-word answer. “What do you have left to do on this cabin?”

“A lot.”

Wow, he's a tough subject.
She gave him a hard look. Was he doing this on purpose? His sharp sienna features, visible above his beard, gave away nothing.

Audra shoved her hands into the front pockets of her linen shorts and let her attention drift over the cabin behind him. “You don't have a website, and Benita didn't have much information on your cabins. I was nervous about coming at first.”

“Why?”

Audra gave him a wide-eyed stare. He'd sounded curious. That must be a good sign. “I think everyone fears the unknown. Don't you?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Maybe.”

Audra stared at his teal green T-shirt. The simple cut, rounded neckline, and small pocket above his left pectoral seemed familiar. Was this the same shirt he'd worn yesterday?

She gestured toward his torso. “How many shirts do you have like that?”

Jack glanced at his chest. “Seven.”

“One for each day?”

“Yes.”

She'd been teasing. Was he serious? “That's . . . very frugal. What do you do when you run out of T-shirts?”

“Laundry.”

He was good at this game. Audra had been so sure he wouldn't have a one-word answer for that question.

She tried again. “What happens if you forget to do the laundry?”

Jack gave her a puzzled look. “I don't.”

Audra gave up. “I've kept you from your work long enough. Sorry.”

“No problem.” Jack struggled not to laugh, which was getting harder to do around Audra.

She was so obviously disappointed that she hadn't gotten him to talk more. He'd enjoyed the mental challenge of thwarting her. Maybe a part of him was glad Audra Lane had arrived on his rental cabins' property.

She stepped back. “Still, I didn't mean to interrupt you.”

“Why did you?”

She shrugged. “I was restless. You know, I wouldn't bother you if you had other guests I could talk with.”

“Maybe.” Why was he glad there weren't other renters on the property? Did he want her interrupting him?

Audra narrowed her eyes. “Are you doing this on purpose?”

His lips twitched, despite his best efforts. “What?”

Her eyes widened. “You're deliberately giving curt answers to my questions.”

Jack's grin broke free. “Am I?”

“Oh!” Audra spun on her heels and marched away, kicking up gravel behind her.

Jack's shoulders shook with humor. He felt lighter than he'd felt in years. It was as though in the three days that Audra had been on the property, her presence was healing him, removing the scars of fear, grief, and bitterness that his daughter's death and his ex-wife's betrayal had left behind. She'd ripped open the lid of his coffin and was breathing life back into him.

Jack returned to his hammering. Maybe he shouldn't have been such a jerk to Audra. He'd had fun, though. But if he'd answered her questions, perhaps she'd have answered his.

What was she doing here?

What was she working on?

Why had she chosen to travel under such an obvious pseudonym? She'd have called less attention to herself by using her real name.

 

 

Audra wasn't on her porch that afternoon. Jack didn't pretend not to be disappointed. Then he heard the music. He slowed his footsteps on the graveled path that led to her front steps.

A soft, tentative voice drew him up the stairs. He stood beside the front window and listened to the voice tell him about broken promises, lost time, and the crushing weight of other people's expectations.

The music stopped. “Shoot! Shoot! Shoot!” Pure frustration powered the exclamations.

After a brief silence, Audra picked up the song from the beginning. The uncertain chords of an acoustic guitar accompanied the lyrics. Indistinct humming filled the open spaces when she ran out of words.

Jack cocked his head. It wasn't her best work. After he'd seen the article on her Grammy wins, he'd found her work on the Internet and played a few of the music videos. The songs were strong, memorable, and entertaining. It wasn't just the vocal talent of the popular artists who showcased the songs; it was Audra's abilities as a songwriter.

Her voice was soft and uncertain right now, but he heard its underlying appeal. Had she recorded any of her own work? Would she ever consider it?

His knuckles rapped on Audra's front door. Jack froze. Why had he done that? He hadn't intended to let her know he was there. The cabin became still. The silence penetrated the thick wooden door. Jack stepped back, debating the wisdom of leaving.

“Who is it?” Audra's tone was gruff bravado.

He couldn't resist a smile. “Jack.”

Another brief silence. Jack sensed rather than heard her footsteps carrying her toward him.

The door opened just a crack, as though Audra wanted to verify his identity.

Jack held her cautious gaze. “Bears don't knock.”

Audra gave him a sarcastic look before joining him on the porch. “Considering the similarities in your appearance, I'm surprised you do.” She softened the gibe with a cheeky grin.

“I was housebroken years ago.” Jack deadpanned his response.

“That's a relief.” Audra pulled the front door closed.

She was still teasing him. How long had it been since someone had done that? How long had it been since he'd wanted to tease someone back? About as long as it had been since someone had made him laugh, long before Zoey's death.

Audra strolled past him to the porch's railing and looked up at the cloudless blue sky. “It's so beautiful here.”

“Yes, it is.” His gaze traveled up from her bare feet and long shapely legs to her gold linen shorts and hot pink T-shirt. She looked as bright and warm as the day.

“And quiet. Except for the crickets that come out at night.” Audra glanced over her left shoulder. “Were you creeping around in the woods again?”

He ignored her question. “I heard your music. It was good.”

Audra sighed. “No, it wasn't.”

“I wouldn't say it was good if I didn't think it was.”

“I know. You're not the kind of person who tells social lies. You speak your mind—when you speak at all.”

Jack heard the humor in her voice. “I'm speaking now.”

Audra feigned concern. “Does it hurt very much?”

“You're full of smart remarks today, aren't you?”

Audra tugged her right earlobe. “I'm sorry. I'm not usually this sarcastic.”

“Are you a singer?” Jack watched her closely. Would she tell him the truth?

She arched a brow. “Why? Do you know someone who could make me a star?”

“I'm serious. You have a good voice. You could have a future in the music industry.”

Audra shook her head. “I know at least a dozen people who are much, much better singers. But they'll never make it in the industry. They have the vocal talent, but they're not entertainers.”

“That's important?”

“It's half the battle.”

“Why couldn't you be an entertainer?”

“That's way out of my comfort zone.” She shrugged one slender shoulder. “This whole vacation is out of my comfort zone. But Benita thought it would be good for me.”

“She was always a know-it-all, even as a kid.”

Audra's smile made the day even brighter. “I think she's right in this case. That's the reason I asked you to be my guide.”

Jack stiffened. “Why?”

“To give me a tour of the town—”

“Trinity Falls isn't that big.”

“Take me hiking—”

“Follow that path.” Jack inclined his head toward the distance.

“And fishing.”

He gave her a hard look. With her hypnotic smile and seductive warmth, Audra Lane was a threat to his numb, solitary lifestyle. And now she was proposing they spend even more time together. That wouldn't be wise.

“No.” Jack crossed to the stairs.

“You won't tell me why not?” Her voice followed him down the porch steps.

“No.”

“Ah! You've returned to your chatty self. Welcome back.” Her voice was full of laughter that was even more enthralling than her music.

Jack's lips twitched with reluctant humor. No, it wasn't a good idea to spend hours alone with Audra Lane. Right now, she was giving him all he could handle. She was making him feel again, and that scared him far more than those bears she was certain waited in the woods.

 

 

That night, Jack tried to stay away, but he wasn't strong enough. Or perhaps Audra's lure was stronger. She wasn't on her porch, but he heard music again. This time, it was a full band, not just a guitarist. And the singer was familiar.

Jack followed the sound to the back of Audra's cabin. The area was well lit. The back door was open, allowing the cabin's lights to shine over the gray-and-white stone patio. A laptop stood open on the wooden bench. It was plugged into the exterior wall. Music played from the computer. Mary J. Blige belted out one of her self-esteem anthems, “Just Fine.” The music was compelling. The words were empowering. But it was the woman on the patio who held him captive as she moved with abandon to the beat of the music.

Audra still wore the gold shorts and formfitting hot pink T-shirt she'd worn that afternoon. She swung her hips with the beat of the music, letting her body flow with the song. Muscles in his torso knotted with a half-forgotten sense of yearning. Audra raised her arms high above her head and pumped her hips. Jack's palms itched with the desire to trace his hands along the curves of her body. He clenched his fists and took a step back. At the same time, Audra spun on her bare toes to face him.

Her scream stripped the silence. She stumbled back, falling awkwardly onto the bench behind her. She pressed a fist to her chest. “Oh, my goodness! You scared the crap out of me! Again!”

Jack felt as guilty as a seven-year-old child caught searching his parents' bedroom for his Christmas present. That actually had happened to him. “I'm sorry.”

“Why are you always creeping around in the woods?”

“I wasn't creeping.” Jack stepped into the light.

“Then what were you doing?” Audra's voice no longer shook.

“What were
you
doing?” It was a childish response but the only one he was prepared to give at the moment.

“Dancing.”

“Why?”

She dragged a hand through her hair. “I thought the exercise would help me sleep.”

“Still having trouble sleeping?”

“So are you. Why else would you keep creeping around in the woods?” She pressed a couple of keys on her laptop. Mary J. Blige became silent. The screen glowed blue, then became dark.

“I wasn't creeping around.”

“Then what were you doing?”

Cornered. In the sudden silence, he heard the crickets in concert. “I came to see you.”

“Why?”

“To tell you . . . I'd take you fishing.”

Her champagne eyes sparkled. “Really?”

No.
But the slow smile brightening her pixie features turned his mind to mush. “Sure. I'll take you fishing in the morning.”

He hadn't meant to offer to teach her. What would make him say that he would?

“You could have waited until the morning to tell me.”

A reprieve? “No, I couldn't. We need to leave no later than five.”

Her eyes stretched. “In the morning?”

“Yes.” Jack breathed more easily.

Audra wouldn't want to wake up that early. Five o'clock in the morning here was two o'clock in the morning on the West Coast. There was no way she'd adjusted to eastern standard time yet. She'd only been here three days.

“OK.” Audra popped off the bench and collected her laptop. “I'd better say good night.”

Jack gaped. “That's OK with you?”

“I'm excited.” Audra flashed him a bright grin over her shoulder before bending to unplug her computer from the patio outlet.

Jack dragged his eyes from the firm curves of her derriere. “Five o'clock isn't too early for you? We're three hours ahead of the West Coast.”