Home To You (2 page)

“He had other plans?”

“Apparently. Plans he didn’t see fit to share with me. He took a promotion in San Francisco. Yesterday I got a pink slip, and then, to top off my day, I came home to find him packing. He said he didn’t need a modern-day Betty Crocker with a Carl Jung fetish. His words, not mine.”

“Wow, that’s harsh.” He leaned back against the car and tilted his head, as if looking at her from a different
angle would change the picture. No such luck for either of them. “Would you have gone to San Francisco with him if he’d asked?”

She wanted to say yes, but the look in his eyes stopped her and made her really think about it. Would she have followed David to San Francisco? She’d followed him to Boston, but that was with the understanding that they’d return to Harmony. Boston was two hours away from home, not on the other side of the country. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve never wanted to live anywhere but right here.”

“I would think that if you really loved this guy, you’d follow him anywhere.”

“We spent the past twelve years planning our life together, and David never even floated the idea of a move to San Francisco, or anyplace else, for that matter.”

The man didn’t argue; he just continued staring.

“If I used your logic, I could say that if he really loved me, he would never leave me for a job on the West Coast.”

“You’re right. Which begs the question: why are you wasting your time crying over a man who obviously doesn’t love you? At least not anymore.”

Ouch; that hurt. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. “He might not have loved me, but I loved him.” It came out on a sob, and his frown deepened.

“Not enough to follow him to San Francisco,” he said softly. His eyes stared into hers, as if he were willing her to agree.

Except she wasn’t feeling very agreeable at the moment. “I might have if he’d asked. Instead, he waited until I left for work to pack his things and move out of our
apartment without a word about it to me. If I hadn’t lost my job and come home early, I would have received nothing more than the e-mail he’d planned to send from the airport. He said he wanted to avoid the drama.”

He stepped closer and crossed his arms, his gaze pinning her in place. “Look, you don’t know me from Adam, but if you ask me, I think the jerk did you a favor.”

“You think he did me favor?”

“Yeah. He’s obviously a coward. No real man would spend over a decade with a beautiful woman like you—even with your penchant for tears—and leave you with no warning, no apology, and without so much as a good-bye. You should thank him for keeping you from wasting any more of your life on him. He probably saved you years of misery, not to mention the cost of a good divorce attorney. In his own cowardly way, he did the right thing. He set you free to be happy.”

She took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts, and his words pinballed their way around her mind, hitting more bumpers than she would have thought possible. “You know, I doubt I would have ever come to that conclusion on my own, but you might be right.” She stared at the tall, blond, obnoxiously gorgeous man, and wondered who in the hell he was. “If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll feel that way in a few years. Right now, I’m having a difficult time working up any real gratitude.”

“It won’t take years, believe me.”

“Who are you?” That question seemed to surprise him. She couldn’t fathom why.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s suddenly occurred to me that I’ve just spilled my guts to a total stranger and I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m Jack.” He held out his hand in a manner so businesslike, it was odd, considering where they were and the fact that he was dressed like a construction worker.

“Jack.” She tried his name on for size and found that it fit, rolling off her tongue with an unnatural ease. Jack was a no-frills, competent, strong-sounding name, and it suited him. His warm, work-roughened hand engulfed her smaller, smooth, frozen one. “It’s nice to meet you, Jack. I’m Kendall.”

*

Jackson Finneus Sullivan III wanted to curse his luck and Kendall’s. It had taken him a few moments, but he’d recognized her from the pictures his caretakers and unofficial adoptive parents, Grace and Teddy, had showed him over the years. Either they were really bad photographers or Kendall wasn’t nearly as photogenic as she should be, because no picture he had ever seen of Kendall came close to doing her justice.

He’d known she was a pretty girl, but the woman before him was so far beyond pretty, she wasn’t even in the same time zone. She was, in a word, spectacular. Who’d have thought the quiet little mouse of a pigtailed, buck-toothed girl he remembered trailing behind Grace the summer before his parents’ death would blossom into such an incredible beauty?

What man in his right mind would leave a woman like Kendall? Even with red, swollen, bloodshot eyes, a raw nose, and a bulky down coat, she was stunning enough to give any man between the ages of two and a hundred and two whiplash.

“Do you want to come up to the cabin? If I had a car here, I’d lend it to you, but I don’t.”

That seemed to shock her. “You don’t have a car? How did you get up here?”

“I took a cab to the other side of the lake and then hiked across.”

“What do you do for groceries?”

“There’s a guy who lives a few miles away, Jaime Rouchard—”

“I know him.”

“He’s been helping me out. He keeps me well supplied with food and lumber.”

“Oh, that’s good.” She turned a full circle. “That reminds me, I have at least a week’s worth of groceries and my duffel bag in the Jeep. I know the bears are hibernating this time of year, but I feel weird just leaving it.”

“No problem.” When he popped open the back of the Jeep, the light spilled onto her face, highlighting her pale skin and ebony hair. Her cheeks were red from the cold or maybe her tears—he couldn’t be sure—and her eyes were so dark, they looked almost black. “I’ll help you get your things to the cabin, and we’ll decide what to do when we get there.” She had enough food to last the rest of the winter. He threw the duffel bag over his shoulder and grabbed the larger of the two boxes of groceries. “It looks as if you were planning to stay awhile.”

“Yeah.” She grabbed the smaller box and started up the trail.

She was tall. It was hard to tell with her boots on, but he guessed she was only three or four inches shorter than he, and most of it was leg. “Why didn’t you go to your parents’ place?”

“Because I don’t want anyone in town to know I’m here. I didn’t think anyone would find me at the cabin. I’m hiding out.”

She wasn’t the only one.

“My parents are on a Mediterranean cruise, and if anyone in town knew I was here, the first thing they’d do is call or e-mail my folks. If Mom and Dad knew what happened between me and David, they’d drop everything and hop the first flight home. I’d never forgive myself for ruining their dream vacation.”

“I can understand that.” It was the truth; for anyone other than his friend Jaime to know he was here was the last thing he needed. He’d come up to his hometown to recover from a traumatic injury, and the recovery was progressing more slowly than he’d expected. If anyone got wind of things, well, damn, he didn’t even want to think about what a financial disaster that could be.

“Besides, this is something I have to deal with on my own. I love my parents. I really do. But right now, I just want to be left alone.”

Well, that could be a problem. “So, no one knows you’re here?”

“Only my friend Addie, and she’s been sworn to secrecy. She was the one who went grocery shopping for me—and, just to be safe, she went to the store in the next town.”

Good thought. He might ask Jaime to do the same thing next time.

Kendall let out a laugh. “Harmony is your typical small town—the largest thing in it is the gossip mill. Addie thought Sophie Evans over at the market would question her, since Addie did her own shopping the day before yesterday. The entire population, except Jaime and Addie, are card-carrying members of the International Brotherhood of Busybodies.”

She didn’t have to tell him that, but luckily, she didn’t
know who he was or that he already knew everything there was to know about Harmony. Hell, his ancestors were the founding fathers. “Is your friend Addie coming here?”

“No.” Kendall shook her head, and her waterfall of black hair flew around her shoulders. “She promised to leave me alone as long as I came out of my cave by the time the food ran out.”

He blew out a relieved breath; if Addie showed up, he’d be outed. Not only would Addie know he was here and feel the need to inform Grace and Teddy, but Kendall would find out who he was—or who he used to be. Well, he couldn’t allow that to happen.

He tucked the large box under his arm for a second to scratch the two weeks’ worth of beard growth covering his face—the damn thing still itched, but it kept him warm in the wind. Besides, it was nice not to have to shave every damn day. Jax had never not shaved. When he was going for the Olympic Trials in swimming, he even waxed . . . just about everything. Since then, he’d never taken much vacation time, and in his business, beards were frowned upon. But these days, the man he used to be felt like a stranger to him. Now, with Kendall not recognizing him at all, he didn’t have to pretend to be Jackson Finneus Sullivan III. Maybe that was why he didn’t want anyone to know he was here. He’d spent more than a week in New York with his sister, pretending there was nothing wrong with him, pretending he was the same old Jax, and he was tired of pretending to be something he wasn’t. For now at least, Jax was gone, and if he never came back, he’d deal with it.

The relief he felt was short-lived. He still didn’t know what he was going to do about his unexpected visitor. If
Kendall left, his secret would be shot to hell. She’d probably run right to Addie and tell her why she couldn’t stay at the cabin. It didn’t take a mathematical genius to know that Addie would add up the clues and cook his goose. And Kendall finding out who he really was wouldn’t do him any good either. For whatever reason, she didn’t have a very high opinion of the Grand Pooh-Bah. He’d have to ask Jaime when he acquired that moniker. She might have said it was nothing personal, but it sounded very personal to him.

He didn’t know why he cared what Kendall thought of him. Okay, so that was a lie. He knew why he cared. What straight man in his right—albeit slightly damaged—mind wouldn’t want a chance with a woman like Kendall Watkins?

But any kind of relationship with Kendall would be full of complications. Even if he could count, he wouldn’t be able to number them all. No, he needed to keep it strictly platonic, because when it came down to it, he needed to keep her here at the cabin to protect both their secrets. “You know, there are two bedrooms in the cabin and I’m only using one. You’re more than welcome to the spare.”

She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “I couldn’t.”

Sure she could. And if he didn’t want her hightailing it back to town, he’d better talk faster, because the cabin was in sight. “If you’re serious about hiding out, it sounds as if your options are rather limited.”

“I am serious.”

“Look, if you want to be alone, I’ll leave you alone. I’m not the best company right now anyway.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

And she thought the townspeople were nosy. Hello,
Pot. Meet Kettle. Shit, if she was going to be staying at the cabin, she’d figure it out eventually. His head ached in earnest now—it had gone from the normal, constant, after-a-concussion dull ache to an almost blinding pain. It was nothing unusual. Ever since his accident, he’d had bouts of nightmare headaches, the frequency of which were decreasing. Unfortunately, the headache fairies had chosen now to make an appearance. “I was in an accident recently and had a head injury. I’m still not quite myself.” He held his breath, waiting to hear about how the Grand Pooh-Bah of Harmony hit a tree while skiing, but she said nothing. By now, he knew her well enough to know that if she’d heard about the accident, she’d tell him all about it. She wasn’t one to hold back.

“Wow, I’m sorry to hear that. But after all I’ve dumped on you, and considering that you’ve seen me at my worst, you’re not telling me very much here. What happened?”

“They tell me I skied into a tree. I don’t have any memory of the accident—actually, I can’t remember anything that happened that day. I just remember waking up in the hospital a few days later with a headache like you read about. I’d been in a medically induced coma, and they had to operate to reduce the pressure on my brain.”

One of her dark brows rose. “And that turned you into someone not quite yourself?”

He’d turned into someone completely different, or at least he felt as if he had. “I’ve changed. I can’t do some of the things I used to do. It’s been about a month, and supposedly my brain is still healing. There’s no way to know if the difficulties I’ve encountered are permanent.”

She blew out a visible breath. The temperature had plummeted with the sun. “It sounds as if you’re lucky to be alive.”

“That’s true enough.”

“The accident obviously hasn’t affected your speech.”

“Actually, it has a little bit. Sometimes I can’t remember the exact word I’m thinking of. It’s as if it’s right there, but I can’t reach it. I don’t think it’s noticeable to anyone but me.”

“What else?”

“There’s no such thing as personal boundaries with you, is there?”

She stopped, turned toward him, and shot him a smile. “I’m a psychotherapist. I’m trained to be nosy.”

“Right. So this is purely professional interest.”

“Would it make you feel better if I said yes?”

“I don’t know if anything would make me feel better right now. Well, maybe those wicked strong painkillers they gave me at the hospital. That is, if you think completely out of it equals better.” He didn’t, but if his headache didn’t subside, he might have to rethink his position.

“Oh.” She gave him the same clinical nod he’d seen doctors use before giving him a diagnosis. “You’re grieving the loss of whatever it is you may have lost. That’s completely normal.”

“Thanks, I think.”