The Secret She Kept (3 page)

“You like to draw?” Jake asked Allie. “I drew a lot when I was your age.”

That piqued Allie’s interest. “Did you draw horses?”

At that instant, it all came rushing back to Savannah—how Jake had been into art during grade school, working extra hard on his projects in art class, proudly but quietly accepting the teacher’s continuous praise. It was the one area in which Savannah hadn’t had a hope of competing with him. Maybe that was why she’d blocked it from her memory until now.

She tuned back in to their conversation, her stomach gurgling with nausea. Jake was listing shows and contests where Allie could enter her drawings.

“I didn’t realize you were still active in the art community,” Savannah said.

“I’m not. I haven’t been for years, but I’m certain those events are still around. Now it’s probably easier than ever to hook up with them. Just look online.”

“Can we check on the Internet, Mom?” For the first time in weeks Allie was animated. While that brought a small measure of joy to Savannah, she was also ticked off that Jake was the cause of it.

“Of course we can.” She strove for offhandedness, as if having a normal conversation with her daughter was…well, normal.

“Can Jake help me?”

Not on your life.
“We can handle it ourselves.”

“Mom—”

Savannah held up a hand and gave her daughter The Look, the one that stopped whining in its tracks. And now garnered a hateful glare from her once sweet little girl. Savannah sighed inwardly. “Tell you what,” she said without thinking. “When we get home, we’ll check into signing you up for that art class you’ve been hounding me about.”

“Really?” she asked, eyes bright.

“Really.” Savannah forced a grin. No way would she let Jake be the only one to make her child happy.

Allie squealed and bounced in the booth. “Thanks, Mom! Can we go now? I want to get home and fill out the application right away.”

“Logan’s still eating, honey. We’ll leave soon.”

Savannah knew already this was the absolute dumbest thing she’d done for some time. She couldn’t afford art classes. Was doing well to afford dinner out one night a week. She’d always been prone to doing stupid things when Jake was around. Why did she lose all semblance of sense in his presence? Besides, what did it matter if Allie thought he was nicer? Of course she would. He didn’t have to discipline her or tell her no.

“When are you leaving Lone Oak?” she asked him abruptly.

“Another week or so.”

“Don’t you have to get back to your job?”

“Believe me, I would’ve been happier not leaving my job at all. But it’s good to see my grandma and sister.”

“What about the rest of your family? Your dad? Is he still living?”

“For another couple weeks, or so the doctor says.”

Savannah looked at Jake sharply to make certain she’d understood right. “He’s dying?”

Jake checked to see if the kids were paying attention, but Allie was drawing again and Logan was pushing a French fry around on his plate and making race car noises.

“Cancer. That’s the real reason I’m back.” His jaw locked tight and he frowned, but she got the sense it wasn’t out of sadness.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and meant it. She remembered he and his father hadn’t been very close, but she didn’t wish losing a parent on anyone. She’d been through that when she was fourteen, and understood what hell it could be.

Jake didn’t respond and she didn’t know what else to say, although his unspoken emotions were pulling at her, making her want to find out more.

“So you build log cabins in Montana.”

“Homes. Big custom jobs. I just got the biggest break of my life, and here I am back in Podunkville to make up with the old man, who couldn’t care less about seeing me.”

“What kind of break?”

“You familiar with Tony Clayton?”

“Familiar?” He was only one of the biggest names in Hollywood right now. “Just a bit.”

“I’m building a house for him.”

“Wow. That’s great. A big break, like you said.”

“If I make him happy, he’s got friends. A bunch of overpaid friends who love to buy second and third homes out in the middle of nowhere.”

“So you’re hoping this will get you all that business.”

“That’s what I’ve dreamed of ever since I started. I’ve worked toward it for years, and now I’m so close I can taste it.”

“Your dad’s timing isn’t the greatest, huh?”

“Nope.” Jake frowned again and admitted, “I haven’t spoken to him since the day I left town.”

The huskiness in his voice made her wonder at all the things he must be going through. She damned herself for caring, but couldn’t seem to help it.

Logan shoved his last fry into his mouth and that was all Savannah needed to excuse them. “We have to go.”

Jake glanced over at his grandmother. “And I better return to the hen party. Nice to meet you, Logan and Allie.” He held his right hand up for a high-five from Logan, and shared a brief smile with Allie before standing.

Savannah watched him walk away, reminding herself distance was exactly what she required. Especially since she apparently couldn’t help herself from caring, no matter how dangerous that was.

S
AVANNAH SWORE
as she walked down Main Street toward her office. The double mocha latte she’d just bought overflowed the lid of the cup and burned her wrist. She slurped up the spill before it could run down her arm, but didn’t take time to reposition her load. She’d taken the kids to the office after school, as she usually did, then left to buy them a snack. Zach was there somewhere—his truck was out front—but he hadn’t been in the main office when she and the children had arrived from school ten minutes ago. Judging by the closed conference room door, she’d guessed he was with a potential client.

Logan and Allie were generally well-behaved kids, but too many things could happen in the blink of an eye, especially with a rambunctious eight-year-old boy unsupervised. She never wanted Zach to regret letting her bring the kids to the office after school each day.

The aroma of chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the bakery’s oven wafted from the paper bag in her other hand, making her wish she’d grabbed a cookie for herself, too.

Normally, she packed after-school snacks to save money, but this morning she’d had one crisis after another. Allie had experienced one of her preadolescent hormone imbalances, triggered by finding that the one and only shirt she wanted to wear was still in the dirty laundry. Logan’s volcano model for school had somehow suffered nearly irreparable damage overnight, which he blamed on Allie, which started the second shouting match before 8:00 a.m. And that was just the beginning of the morning love in the Salinger-Moser family.

Savannah opened the door to Heartland with three fingers of her left hand. Logan was crouched beneath the spare chair along the wall by the copy machine, aiming his gun, made of LEGO blocks, at his sister. The conference room door was now open.

When she glanced at Allie, Savannah stopped dead. Her daughter, sweet, innocent and unsuspecting—okay, sweet was an exaggeration lately—was sprawled on her stomach on the floor between Zach’s and Savannah’s desks. Talking to
Jake
, who’d pulled out Savannah’s chair and was lounging in it, a smile on his face.

Savannah bit back the exclamation of alarm on the tip of her tongue. She wasn’t usually one to panic, and showing fear now would only cause suspicion.

Opening the paper bag, she walked toward her son and held out a soft, luscious-looking cookie.

“Come on out, Logan. You can’t eat this under the chair.”

“Aw, Mom. You blew my cover.”

Savannah cracked a smile in spite of her preoccupation and held out the snack, waiting for him to disentangle himself and emerge.

“Thanks,” he said as he grabbed it, breaking it into pieces in his haste.

Savannah braced herself and turned toward Allie and Jake. “What are you doing here?” she inquired, hoping to sound casual and unconcerned.

“I brought my grandmother in to meet with your boss.”

“Where
is
Zach?”

“In the back with her. She wanted to see the custom cabinets the guys are finishing up for someone’s house. Next thing you know she’ll have some in her kitchen. Logan had me at gunpoint and here I am.”

Here he was. She nodded in spite of being entirely unhappy about the situation, and set her coffee, now only half-full, on her desk. Could she dare hope that this second meeting meant Odessa was going to sell to Zach? Savannah couldn’t bring herself to ask; she’d find out from Zach later. Instead, she gave Jake a scowl that anyone with a clue would know meant
get out of my chair.

“Allie here tells me she just had a birthday. Eleven years old. Getting close to being a teenager.”

Allie smiled at him, that bright, easy, pre-divorce smile. Savannah barely noticed, though, freaking out anew that her daughter was getting so comfortable with Jake. She wasn’t typically a chatterbox.

“Could I have my desk back, please?” Savannah wiped every trace of fear off her face and moved in on him, her tone almost amiable.

Jake remained where he was, his long, muscular legs stretched in front of him. He looked Savannah up and down slowly, and apparently finally grasped that she wasn’t in the mood to joke around, because he stood and moved out of the way.

She put her purse in her bottom desk drawer and handed the cookie bag to Allie, who set it aside, then intently resumed her latest horse drawing. Jake was heading toward Logan, and Savannah couldn’t wait for him to leave, before he lured both her children into liking him.

“Can we talk outside for a second?” she asked him.

He studied her for another moment before nodding. “If my grandma comes in, please tell her I’ll be right back,” he said to the kids.

Jake followed Savannah out the door. She tried not to feel the heat of him directly behind her, but she couldn’t help being hyperaware of his closeness. She’d always had that problem—knowing exactly where he was in the room, what he was doing, who he was talking to, even if she was in the middle of a conversation herself. Always, ever since they were kids.

Once outside, she took several steps down the sidewalk, away from the Heartland office, so the kids wouldn’t see them out the window.

The wind had risen that afternoon and the first hint of fall filled the air. She turned to face Jake and the breeze blew her hair into tangles behind her. She made a mental note to drag the kids’ jackets out of storage, and hoped they’d still fit.

Jake leaned a shoulder casually against the stone facade of the ancient building. He was close enough that she caught his scent—outdoorsy with a hint of aftershave. It did things to her, jump-started some kind of physical reaction. Their silence grew as she studied the individual fibers of his navy-blue T-shirt. Inching back a step would be wise, but Savannah didn’t like the message backing off would send.

J
AKE HADN’T BEEN THIS
close to Savannah for almost twelve years, yet the reddish brown waves of her hair were still so familiar, the toffee color of her eyes the shade in the recurring dreams he tried to forget about.

“What’s up?” he said, annoyed that he could still fall under her spell after how they’d ended things so long ago.

Savannah’s eyes shot from his shirt to his face. “My kids have been through hell with this divorce.”

“Losing a parent’s tough. We both know that firsthand—”

“Right.” She cut him off abruptly. How could he forget how she avoided talking about personal subjects? That it was something they had in common didn’t matter. “They’re still reeling from it. Especially Allie.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Stop being so nice to them. Please.” Her chest rose as she took a deep breath. “What I mean is, don’t go out of your way to get them to like you.”

“Who says I have to go out of my way?”

The joke was met with a glare.

He frowned at her. “Let me see if I understand this. Your kids are hurting, so you want me to be mean to them.”

“Don’t you dare be mean to them. Just…leave them alone.”

“I’m not attempting to be their best friend, Savannah. I was just talking to them, treating them like people.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “I know. What I’m trying to say…Allie’s responded to you more in the two times she’s met you than she has to me in nearly a year. She’s hungry for a grown-up she can love and trust, and you seem to fit the bill because you like to draw horses.”

“And you’re afraid she’ll get attached, then I’ll leave.”

“You’re only here for a visit. She
will
be let down. I don’t want her to lose anyone else.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t encourage her—”

The door to the office opened and shut, and he pivoted to find Allie walking toward them. Jake automatically smiled at her as she sidled up next to him and handed him a piece of paper—the horse drawing she’d been working on. At the top, she’d written in fancy block letters, “For Jake.”

“His name is Frosty,” Allie said.

“He’s a beauty. You’ve got some serious talent, Allie.” As he gazed down at her, she shyly dropped her gaze to her feet.

Jake noticed the beaded butterfly clasp holding her shiny blond hair in a ponytail, and then his eyes were drawn lower, to her neck, about two inches behind her ear.

He did a double take. Veered away and looked back a third time to be sure.

Holy mother of…

She had a birthmark there. Faint brown, just larger than a quarter, in the shape of an upside-down crescent moon.

Jake knew his eyes were bulging, but he tried to hide his astonishment by avoiding eye contact with the little girl next to him. Coherency escaped him.

He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, they automatically sought out the birthmark again, and he broke out into a sweat.

It was the exact same shape, in the exact same place, as his sister’s.