Mountain Laurel

Mountain Laurel

by

Donna Clayton

Copyright © 2011, Donna J. Fasano

All Rights Reserved

This book may not be reproduced in any form, in whole or in part (beyond that copying permitted by U.S. Copyright Law, Section 107, " fair use" in teaching or research, Section 108, certain library copying, or in published media by reviewers in limited excerpt), without written permission from the author.

Original Copyright © 1990, Donna J. Fasano

Published by Silhouette Books

Silhouette ® is a Trademark of Harlequin Books S.A.

New York, NY, USA

Chapter One

"T
his is just great!" Laurel slapped her hand against the steering wheel. "First I leave my wallet at that two-bit, sorry excuse for a diner. Then we get lost. And now I've got to change a flat tire." The car lurched forward slowly as she scanned the road ahead for a wide enough embankment so she could pull over.

"Who said kidnapping would be easy?"

The sullen teen's words grated on her already frayed nerves. "Ginny." Laurel's jaw was so tight she felt the beginnings of a tension headache shooting up her neck and into her skull. "There is no law against protecting someone you love."

"Oh! So that's what you're doing." Ginny's acerbic tone continued as she placed a hand on her chest and feigned a dramatic apology. "Forgive me.
Please
. I thought taking a person off to God knows where without her permission was called abduction."

Rather than feeling guilty, as Ginny clearly wanted, to her surprise, Laurel's aggravation vanished as quickly as it had erupted. The rigidity in her upper body eased and she relaxed against the seat, a mischievous grin tipping one corner of her mouth. "Oh, but little sister, I had your permission. It's not my fault that you were inebriated to the point of waking with a gap in your memory."

"I wasn't drunk."

Laurel glanced over just as lines of angry denial furrowed Ginny's brow. Compressed lips and tightly crossed arms completed the look of defiance that had become all too familiar lately. Arguing was useless. Her sister's wild, destructive behavior left Laurel feeling hopelessly bewildered. What could she possibly do to help Ginny? Nothing. Nothing, that is, until Ginny herself realized what a dangerous path she was racing down. The same deadly path their brother had followed.

She had suppressed her suspicions for months, refusing to believe that Ginny would experiment with drugs or alcohol. Especially since Ginny knew those were the very things that had caused their brother's tragic and untimely death.

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened.
I won't stand still and watch Ginny kill herself
, Laurel silently argued.
I may have been too young to help Brian, but I will help Ginny. I will! No matter what I have to do.

"Where are we, anyway?"

Her sister's strained voice pulled Laurel from her thoughts just in time for her to spot a wide area on the side of the road and pull onto it. "We're on vacation," she replied, shoving the gear stick into park and shutting off the engine.

Ginny gave a disgruntled sniff. "Does Dad know about this '
vacation
'?"

"Yes, and we have his blessing." Laurel was happy to answer Ginny's questions since this was the first sign of interest, hostile or otherwise, she had shown in the trip.

"And he's actually going to stay home and care for Mom?"

"Uh-huh." Laurel hoped her voice didn't betray the uncertainty she felt over their father's trustworthiness. She had plenty of doubts about him actually following through on his promise. But sometimes, problems had to be prioritized.

"Amazing!" Ginny remarked. "And exactly where is this vacation taking us? It looks like the middle of nowhere."

"You're about to enter the town of Oakland, set in the scenic mountains of western Maryland. Rest and relax as you watch wild creatures frolic in the lush, tranquil forest."

Ginny's mouth cracked into the smallest of grins. "You sound like a brochure put out by the tourist council."

"A smile." Laurel's voice filled with warmth. "That's what I wanted to see." Reaching out and taking her sister's hand, she waited until their gazes met and then softly added, "We'll have a good time, Ginny. You'll see."

She ignored the skeptical look her sister shot her and glanced out at the tree-covered mountains, the autumn colors swirling in vibrant harmony.

"You have to admit it's a beautiful place," Laurel said. "It was nice of Jim to loan us his house for a couple of weeks."

"So—" Ginny nodded knowingly "—this is Jim's fault. I knew Dad shouldn't have hired him."

"Ginny!" Laurel chuckled as she freed the keys from the ignition. "He's a great guy. You're just angry because he's not interested in you."

"Yeah, well, don't you find that a little strange?" Ginny's eyes narrowed. "I mean, I could have a date seven nights a week if I wanted. I sometimes do. Why won't he take me out?"

Laurel lifted her shoulders in a tiny shrug. "He's been busy working in the store, plus he's been working on fixing up the upstairs apartment."

"That's weird, too." Ginny slid around and bent her knee up onto the seat. "Have you been up there? He sure is meticulous about how he wants things." Her eyes lit up as an idea hit her. "Do you think he's gay?"

Laurel laughed outright and shook her head. "That kind of stereotyping is rude, little sister. A man can be neat and organized,
and not be attracted to you
, and still be heterosexual."

"Well..." Ginny sounded unconvinced. "I still think it's weird." Unlatching her seat belt, she gave Laurel a curious look. "If he's moving to Ocean City, what do you think he'll do with his house here?"

"It doesn't belong to him." Laurel unfastened her own seat belt. "He rents from an uncle or something."

"Does this 'uncle or something' know we're coming?"

"He should," Laurel said. "Jim said he'd call. But we won't be going anywhere until we get this flat tire changed."

"Don't look at me," Ginny whined. "I didn't even want to come on this trip."

"Get out of the car and help me with this. It's going to be fun." Laurel slammed the door.

"Sure," Ginny muttered, shoving open her door and stepping onto the gravel shoulder of the road. "Let's have us some
fun
."

~ ~ ~

Michael had never been hungrier in his life. Then again, he remembered ruefully, he always felt like this after a three-day survival trek. He rubbed a hand over his growling stomach. Knowing you could survive in the mountains on wild berries, Indian cucumbers and sassafras tea was all well and good, but right now all he could think about was the thick, juicy steak waiting for him in the freezer.

Rounding a sharp bend in the road, he saw a young girl sitting on a pile of luggage next to a dusty brown sedan. As he pulled onto the scenic overlook, she stood and waved. He frowned. That steak would have to wait.

Michael got out of his truck. "You having trouble?" He rolled up his sleeves, hoping this wouldn't take long.

"Just a flat tire." She flashed a come-hither smile. "We almost have it fixed." She brushed a long strand of silky blond hair over her shoulder.

He watched with amusement as she strutted toward him, and he knew all that was missing from the well- practiced teenage production was a slight batting of the eyes. Knowing when he was being flirted with, Michael was flattered, but then, he also knew teenage girls weren't particular on whom they practiced.

"We?" he questioned.

Just then a head popped up from behind the car. The setting sun reflected like fire off the jumble of shimmering copper curls. Emerald eyes gazed at him from a beautiful face streaked with grease and grime.

He became uncomfortable as those green eyes narrowed, scrutinizing every detail of his person. She glanced past him to inspect his truck, and when her gaze returned to his face, it was dark with suspicion.

"Need some help?" He did his best to soften the edge of irritation he heard in his voice. It wasn't her fault he was starving.

"Thanks, but I'm almost finished." Her brow was pinched, her whole body tense as she rose to a stand.

Her reaction made him pause and think about what he looked like; unshaven, mud-spattered, bedraggled. Hell, he looked little better than a homeless derelict. Why wouldn't she be wary?

Absently running a hand over his whiskered jaw, he tried to explain. "This is what three days roughing it in—"

He'd taken a step toward her wearing what he thought was a friendly expression, but seeing her grip tighten on the tire iron, he stopped short and swallowed hard.

The younger girl sidled up beside him, oblivious to the apprehension her companion was feeling.

"I'm glad you're here," the teen said.

Her silky hair brushed against his skin as she placed a hand on his arm. "You can check out my sister's handiwork. I'd hate to have that tire fall off while we're driving down the road."

Her laughter was cut short by the burning glare she received from the fiery-haired amateur mechanic.

"I'm finished, Ginny. Let's go."

"But you're missing one of those nut things."

Listening to this exchange, Michael moved around to have a look at the tire. Sure enough, one wheel stud was bare. He was about to advise these women that driving with a missing lug nut wasn't safe, but before he could, the woman clutching the metal rod spoke.

"It'll be fine. We're going. Get into the car. Now."

"I don't think so," Michael said quietly.

"I beg your pardon?"

The impact of her anger took him by surprise when she directed the full force of it at him. He realized her fear, but seeing that they drove away safely outweighed it. Besides, her alarm was unfounded. She'd learn that soon enough, if she gave him half a chance.

"I think we should look around for the lug nut," he told her. "It couldn't have rolled far." He stepped away from the teenager, who had crouched down to look under the car.

"There, Laurel!" she exclaimed, pointing. "It's right there. See? This guy's cute
and
he's right."

"Laurel." The name rolled off Michael's tongue in a whisper too low for anyone to hear. What a beautiful name. It fit her perfectly.

He watched her crouch down and reach under the car, his gaze sliding down the graceful curve of her spine, over shapely hips, settling on the firm corduroy-clad bottom covered with sand and grit.

Tearing his gaze away, he found himself looking directly into the lively eyes of the younger girl. The knowing smile on the flirtatious teen's face said a mouthful, and Michael couldn't help grinning with her in acceptance of being caught.

Laurel tightened the last lug nut as quickly as she could, unaware of the silent conspiracy taking place over her head. She would have been quite satisfied with her job had it not been for the man who had suddenly shown up to "help." Quickly checking out the stranger once more, she found him sharing a smile with Ginny. Anger overrode her distrust. Their silent conversation was clearly unwholesome, and she was furious that this man would leer at her sister. And the way her chin was dipped, Ginny seemed to be egging him on!