Carolyn Zane - Taking on Twins p.02

Patsy froze. She touched her tongue to her lips. “You found Emily?”

“Yup. I was right about her heading for Wyoming. Finding her trail was a pain in the—”

“You found her. That’s all that matters.” Patsy glanced over her shoulder, feeling paranoid. Joe had a way of popping in at the least opportune times these days.

“Yeah, I found her, but I’m gonna need some more cash.”

“You’ll get what you deserve and not a penny more when the job is complete,” Patsy hissed. “When are you going to do it?”

“Soon. I gotta follow her home from work tomorrow and figure out where she lives.”

A slow smile of satisfaction crept across Patsy’s lips. Soon, at least half of her worries would be over. “Where is she?”

“Wire me some money and I’ll tell you.”

Patsy’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t like to be jacked around, Mr. Pike.”

“Neither do I. I have business expenses. You want the job done? Pay up.”

As if it were Snake Eyes’s hairy throat, Patsy clutched the phone until her knuckles glowed white. “Where?”

“Some little backwater called Keyhole. There’s a Wyoming Federal Savings and Loan on Main Street. I opened an account in Cheyenne last month.”

Without the usual pleasantries, Patsy ended the call. She hated blackmail. Unless, that is, she was the one doing it. No matter. Her luck was changing.

The police seemed to have stopped looking at her as a suspect in Joe’s murder attempt and Graham had been making regular deposits into her Swiss bank account.

And soon Emily would be dead.



The following evening, as she was flipping over the Closed sign in her window, Annie spotted Wyatt coming down the street. Just as he’d promised. Just as she’d known he would.

Her stomach jumped as violently as it had when she was first pregnant with the boys. She pressed her hand to her breastbone in a feeble attempt to still her furious heartbeat. Behind her was the cashier’s counter and she clutched it for balance, feeling light headed, faint. Emotions warred within as she was at the same time anticipating and dreading his arrival. For as much as Annie longed to toss caution to the wind and throw herself into the past, she couldn’t.

Last night, after much soul-searching, she’d decided to beg off of her dinner with Wyatt tonight. Spending time with him this way simply wasn’t healthy. If one little dinner and a tiny good-night peck could have her heart in such an uproar, what would another day do to her? She couldn’t take that risk. She was far too vulnerable. Especially where he was concerned. Besides, there were her boys to consider now.

As she stood hyperventilating and panicking over exactly what to say, the door to her store swung open. There stood Wyatt, just as confident and sexy as ever. Her fierce resolve to send him packing took a hit.

“Hi,” she breathed, assaulted by the physical attraction to him that had never truly gone away. She hadn’t slept a moment last night, for reliving that ephemeral kiss.

“Hi.”

His grin, reminding her of the audacious teenager she once fancied she’d spend her life with, bloomed. A part of her longed to rush to him and throw her arms around his neck for a kiss. The way she used to.

No!

With a slight shake of her head, Annie took a deep breath, then pushed off the counter to stand on her own two feet.

No, no, no. This was ridiculous. She could not let ancient history interfere with her well laid plans for the future. She could resist him. She’d done it before. She’d do it now.

From the back room, Alex and Noah could be heard laughing and arguing over the electronic sounds of a video game. Chopper barked.

Wyatt’s eyes shifted to the rear of the store, then back to her face. “Shall we drop the kids off at your mother’s before we go?”

“Go?”

“We’re going out to dinner, remember? I won’t keep you out late, if that’s a problem.”

“Oh, no. It’s not that. It’s just that I…” Can’t be in the same room with you and remember my own name, let alone why we shouldn’t be spending time together. She swallowed, her mind racing, searching for the wording to the careful speech she’d rehearsed all day. “I, uh, I have some work to do.” That was not it. Annie frowned. That was not the speech. The speech was something about their diverse futures and lifestyle choices and…

“Work?” Brow knit, he glanced around.

“I, well, I have some, er, stuff to do.”

“What stuff?”

“Oh, a whole bunch of…you know, stuff. Some book work and uh, some furniture rearranging, and, um—”

“You’re going to move furniture? By yourself?”

Bristling, Annie planted her hands on her hips. “I always do. I’m a lot tougher than I look.” This was partly true. She’d been known to slide a piece here and tug a piece there. But she also had a crew of movers that came in once a week to unpack new arrivals and carton up the pieces that had sold.

His eyes held a spark of humor. “That you are a tough cookie, I don’t doubt in the least. But still, you shouldn’t be dragging this stuff around by yourself. It’s a good way to end up in the hospital.” As he spoke, Wyatt unbuttoned the cuff of a sleeve and began to roll it to the bulge of his biceps. An impressive muscle. Did he still spend his mornings in the gym? “I’ll give you a hand. What needs moving?”

“I, uh—” Annie dragged her gaze back up to his face. “You don’t have to do that! Honestly, I am perfectly capable of doing it myself. Really. Go.” Go! Please! Go, go go. She wanted to jump up and down and scream. He had to go. She couldn’t deal with the havoc his presence created in her heart. She waved him toward the door. “Have dinner. Eat. You must be starving.”

He lifted one lazy brow and stared right through to her soul. “No more so than you.”

“Oh. Well, no, I ate a late lunch…” Annie’s voice dwindled. She knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t talking food here. The rakish look and the sinful curl to his lip told her that much.

“C’mon, Annie. I couldn’t eat a bite knowing you were here, most likely lying under some armoire or another. Go ahead. Put me to work.”

Annie exhaled heavily, knowing her plan had backfired big time. He stood there like Excalibur wedged in the stone, immovable, stubborn, waiting for direction. Now she had to trump up some phony work for them to do.

Although…as she glanced around her cluttered store, she realized that she had been meaning to do a bit of rearranging for quite some time, but had just never got around to it. The aisles were far too crowded and virtually impossible for a wheelchair to maneuver. And some of the pieces against the far wall hadn’t seen a dust cloth in months.

“Okay. I guess we can move some of the bigger—”

From the back room, the sound of Alex’s precocious voice rent the silence. “Hey! Noah! The space bogey man is here!” His gleeful shriek drew his brother and soon Wyatt was fending off two copper-topped whirlwinds. A happily bobbing boy tucked under each arm, Wyatt loped around the lobby and then trotted up and down the wider aisles.

“Space monster need food!” he growled. “Have little boys for dinner!”

Tail wagging, Chopper jumped into the fray, barking and frolicking with the boys.

The twins’ hysterical giggles created a bubbly smile that started in her stomach and rose to settle upon her lips. Her boys so needed a man’s influence. A man’s attention. His play. His rough-and-tumble touch and teasing. They seemed to revel in his presence.

The way she did.

She twisted a ringlet around her finger and watched them enter a male world to which she was not privy. And, as much as she tried to be there for her boys, to make up games and wrestle with them, it obviously wasn’t the same. They needed a father figure.

Even knowing this—and try as she might—she still could not grieve for Carl.

“Hey, you monster types!” Annie shouted above the hubbub. “I’m going next door to order some takeout.”

They did not pause in their hilarity to respond. Wyatt had Noah sprawled out on a couch and was tickling him, while fending off an attack from Alex on his back. “Arrrrgg!” he hollered, flipping Alex over and onto the couch next to his brother. Undaunted, they sprang up and were crawling over him within moments.

“Auggh!” Alex howled. “You have really big teeth, bogey man!”

“The better to gobble you up with!” Wyatt peeled the giggling boys off his torso and tossed them back against the springy cushions of the old couch.

Noah laughed so hard, Annie feared he might be sick. “No!” he panted, “you’re not gonna get me!”

Annie squeezed her eyes closed and solemnly echoed this vow as she backed toward the shop’s front door.

Six

The wrappings from their dinner of roast beef sandwiches, chips and giant dill pickles were crumpled and strewn about the top of a turn-of-the-century, drop-leaf table. Around the room, furniture had been dusted, polished, vacuumed and stacked and pushed into a much more user-friendly arrangement, pleasing to the eye as well as more easily accessible.

Noah and Alex were sawing logs on the couch, exhausted from chasing Wyatt around the store. Bellies full, they sprawled like lanky puppies around Chopper dreaming of nails and snails and space monster tales.

Wyatt stood in the middle of the store, hands on his lower back, arching and stretching and regarding Annie with a leery eye. “What now?”

“Well, uh, actually, that china cabinet should be over here, with the matching table and chairs.”

She ignored his grimace. Afraid of being alone with him, Annie kept Wyatt moving furniture more as a reason to keep him busy, than any real need to continue organizing. When they were alone, she lost her ability to reason.

“That china cabinet? The huge one?” He plunged his hands through his hair. “The one loaded with all those little breakable frou-frou knickknacks?”

“Those ‘knickknacks’ are very valuable. I’ll get you a box so that you can pack them up.”

“Oh, wow, thanks.” His sarcasm lacked bite. Opening his mouth wide, Wyatt yawned and ran a hand over his face.

“Am I keeping you up?”

“Actually, I could use a little kiss as incentive.” He pointed to his cheek. “Right about here.”

Annie laughed. “I fell for that old trick once. But I’m older and wiser now.”

“And cuter.” His brow see-sawed dramatically. “And more voluptuous…”

“Get back to work.” She laughed and backed away, knowing that she had to keep her distance or live to regret it.

“Still just as bossy,” he grumped as she skipped out of the room.

Annie found an empty box and some packing material in the back room and brought it to Wyatt. Immediately, he reached for the bubble wrap and began popping the air pockets.

“I love this stuff! This is what I want for Christmas, if you’re taking notes on these things.”

“You’re still such a child. Give me that, before you wake the kids up.” She reached for the bubble wrap, but he held it over his head, snap-crackle-popping, a Zen-like grin gracing his lips.

“No way. I haven’t had this much fun in ages.” Pop. Snap. Crack. “Besides, I bet the boys would like it too.”

“They do! That’s why this piece is all I have left.” She jumped up, but again, he snatched it away. Much to her chagrin, she found herself laughing. “You’re mashing it all up! It doesn’t work when it’s flat. Wyatt Russell, give me that stuff. Now!”

“Make me.” Pop. Crack. His grin broadened.

“Wyatt!”

“Wha-aat?” he sang and jogged backward a few steps.

Annie crossed her arms over her chest. “Get over here now, buddy!”

“Ooo, I love it when you’re masterful.” Snap. Pop.

Giddy mirth rose in her throat as he turned and bolted. “Wyatt, we don’t have time for this. We have work to do.”

He darted around a corner and headed down the armoire aisle. Pop. Pop, pop. Unable to resist, she headed after him. They dodged and weaved, laughing and grunting and leaping over settees and other small antiques. Annie puffed, trying to keep up with his lanky stride. Wyatt ducked around a corner and then stopped and hid. When Annie came shooting after him, he leaped out and grabbed her. She squealed and he covered her mouth with his hand.

“Shhh!” Chest heaving, he pulled her into his arms. His laughter was hot in her ears. “You’re going to wake the kids.”

“Oh, yeah. Like I’m the one making all the noise!” She reached around his back and snatched the bubble wrap from his hand.

“Give me that!”

“No! Never!” She wriggled, struggling to free herself from his embrace.

“Never?” He tightened his hold.

She giggled, feeling limp. Lazy. Giddy. Happy. Sexy. All for the first time in far too many years. “Never!”

“Even if I threaten to kiss you?”

“Even then!”

“Is that an invitation to kiss you?”

“You are still such an egomaniac!”

“But I’m cute, right?”

He buried his nose in the hollow where her shoulder joined her neck and delightful gooseflesh darted like lightning down one side of her body.

“Yes,” she gasped. “You’re still cute. Even in middle age.”

“What?” He reared back and growled. “I’ll show you middle age.” Gathering her to him, he attacked her neck, nipping and biting and kissing, his tongue burning a warm, wet path to her jaw. Her head dropped back and she could fairly hear the electricity snapping between them.

Or was that the bubble wrap she was clutching for dear life?

“I see you two are hard at work.”

Annie and Wyatt leapt apart, their heads jerking toward the sound. Neither of them had heard Emily come in. Annie knew that Wyatt’s sheepish smile mirrored her own.

Brow arched in curiosity, Emily closed the door behind her and moved into the store.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No!” Annie flushed. “Not at all. We were just…well, we were—”

“Making sure the bubble wrap wasn’t flat after all this time,” Wyatt offered, a rakish note in his voice. “Luckily, even after a lot of fondling, it’s not a bit flat.”

“Would you just shut up,” Annie muttered and jabbed him in the side with her elbow.

“Well, good.” Emily smiled and held up the Thermos she’d carried over from the restaurant. “I brought coffee. Figured you could use a…er—” they all stared at each other for an uncomfortable moment “—break.” She twittered.

They all laughed and the tension left.

“A break sounds heavenly. This woman has been working me like a slave.”

Emily snorted. “Yeah. I see that.”

“Hey. Keeping her in line is hard work.” Wyatt made a face at Annie.

“Me? Don’t you have a china cabinet to move?”

“See what I mean?” He didn’t budge.

“So,” Emily chirped as she set about finding cups and coffee accoutrements. “Wyatt tells me that you two knew each other in college.”

Annie lifted her hands in a noncommittal gesture. “We were acquainted, yes.”

Wyatt shot her a droll look. “Yeah. We worked together.” His smirk said there was more to it than that.

“Wow.” Emily poured them each a mug of steamy, fresh java. “What a small world. All this time I know you Annie, and I had no idea that you went to school with dingbat.”

“Watch it, runt.” Wyatt ruffled her hair in the easygoing way that siblings do, and then, with a last wink at Annie, took his mug over to the china cabinet and set to packing her small glass pieces.

“I couldn’t believe it either, when Wyatt told me you two were related. Keyhole is a far cry from Prosperino, no?”

“I love it. It’s…home.”

“I think so, too.”

Wyatt glanced up at her, wearing an enigmatic expression that unsettled her. Why did she suddenly feel guilty? She shrugged off the feeling and pointed out what she and Wyatt had accomplished that evening.

As Annie wandered with Emily around the store, Emily complimented her on the new furniture placement and, as unobtrusively as possible, fished for information regarding her relationship with Wyatt.

Back turned to Wyatt, voice low, Emily probed without compunction. “Are you two an…item? Because, if you are, I need to know. I have to pay him back for years of teasing, no, no, no, persecuting me about every guy whose name I happen to mention in passing. It’s so annoying. You’d understand, of course, knowing Wyatt as you do.”

Hand to jaw, Annie glanced over at Wyatt. Though he’d been pretending to mind his own business while muscling the china cabinet into place, he was clearly eavesdropping.

“I understand.” Amused, she bit her lower lip. “Actually, we’re just old friends. Wyatt simply dropped by to say hello for old time’s sake.”

At her hushed proclamation, Wyatt looked up, his lazy grin and seductive gaze challenging her words. She presented him with her back, for as much as Annie wanted to confide in Wyatt’s sister, to bounce her theories about what he was up to off her, she was reticent to talk about it. With anyone. For by talking about it, the problem became real and Annie preferred to hide behind the safety of her denial.

So what if Wyatt was in Keyhole for a few days? The long-run ramifications were pretty much nil. When he blew back out of town, her boys would soon forget him and life would get back to normal. Once, of course, she recuperated from Cupid’s open heart surgery. No telling how long that would take.

Expression puzzled, Emily glanced back and forth between them and finally gave up trying to worm any more information from Annie.

“How are you getting home?” Wyatt asked as Emily gathered her belongings and prepared to leave.

“Toby gets a dinner break soon and he’s running me home.”

“Toby-the-tiger, huh?” Head waggling, Wyatt shot her a lopsided grin.

“See what I have to put up with?” Emily asked Annie.

“I know just how you feel.” Though Annie could commiserate, his teasing was one of the things Annie had most missed about Wyatt. Carl had never been much on teasing.

“Good night, you guys.” With a last, curious wave at the two of them, Emily disappeared into the night.



Snake Eyes twisted the brown paper bag away from the rim of his bottle and, tipping it back, took a hearty swig. The whiskey was cheap and gave him a virtual tonsillectomy as it seared its way down his throat, but he didn’t care. A buzz was a buzz, and until he was paid another payment on his retainer, he’d just have to settle. He’d gone to the bank earlier today, but the teller told him that there had been no deposit activity on his account.

His rude snort stopped the late-night cricket’s song for a moment. No deposit activity meant no Snake Eyes activity. He would just have to outwait that Colton broad. Eventually, she would pay.

One way or another.

He cursed the questionable parentage of a mosquito that had been buzzing in his ear, then slapped it dead, leaving a streak of blood across his cheek. Twigs crackled as he searched for a more comfortable position in the sticker-filled brush that surrounded the brat’s rental.

But there was none.

Blackberry brambles and bugs and a bunch of wild animals—

Snake Eyes took another long pull on his bottle. Hazard pay. He was gonna collect some of that, all right. He checked his watch. The brat should be home real soon now.

Earlier that day, after some covert questioning of several regulars at the greasy spoon where the brat worked, he felt he had a pretty good handle on her schedule. She worked the lunch rush, then, when things died down, she came home for an couple hours, then went back for the dinner shift. So, with nothing better to do with his time, Snake Eyes had followed Emily to her motel-style cottage after lunch. When she’d gone back to work, he’d let himself into her place, done some snooping, a little pilfering, a bit of snacking—unfortunately, she used that snooty brown mustard that he hated—and then craftily adjusted her bedroom curtains and blinds to afford the best view for that evening.

Now he sat in the thicket just off the driveway enjoying a pre-show cocktail, some of her crackers and a few chunks of some kind of stinky, fat-free goat cheese—man, how he detested fat-free cheese—and planning her demise.

Killing her was going to be one of his more attractive assignments. She had a great little body, that was for sure. Made his job a helluva lot more fun. The whiskey was beginning to warm his brain and fuzzy feelings toward little Emily began to fill his mind. She was a pistol, that one. He’d have to be on his toes the next time he got into the ring with her.

As he sat ruminating, headlights swung around the corner, flashing into Emily’s driveway and briefly illuminating Snake Eyes’s hiding place. He dove down into the blackberry thicket and was rewarded with multiple stab wounds to the bare flesh of his face, hands, arms and lower back.

Profanity rang out and next door, a dog began to yap.

Snake Eyes took an extra long swig of rotgut, this time for the pain. He was bleeding like a sprinkler. The sound of car doors slamming reached him, then that canine rodent’s high-pitched bark, then her soft voice.

“Rrrrrrr arrrp! Arrrrp! Arp, arp, arp!”

“Fifi! You be quiet!”

“Rrrrrrrr! Arp! Arp!”

“Fifi! Hush! You’ll wake the whole neighborhood.”

Snake Eyes peered through the brush at the groomed and ribboned rat that someone had tethered to a small doghouse. It was sounding louder. Probably smelled his blood.

“ARP! ARP! ARP!”

“That’s the neighbor’s poodle. She must not recognize you.” Footsteps clip-clopped to her front door. “Thanks for the ride home, Toby. You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Rrrrrrrr!”

“My pleasure.”

“GRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”

“Fifi! Shush! You’re giving poor Toby a complex. Toby, why don’t you come in for a cup of coffee? I have lemon bars.”

Toby sounded eager. “Sure. I have time left on my break, you bet.” The front door clicked shut and the bolt lock followed as they moved inside.

Snake Eyes gritted his teeth and groaned deep in his throat. He loved lemon bars. Where the hell had she kept the lemon bars? After a bit of a tussle, he got out of the blackberry thicket and rolled to the edge of her driveway only to come face-to-face with the irate Fifi. Snake Eyes promptly dove back into the thicket, but it was too late. Fifi, swifter and sober, had the advantage of night vision and a fur coat.



The streets had long since rolled up and darkness had descended over the sleepy little town of Keyhole. Hours ago, the street lamps buzzed on, and it seemed to Annie that they were the only two people awake within a hundred mile radius.

“You have really done a great job with this place,” Wyatt murmured, lifting his mug and blowing across the rim of his second cup of coffee.

They kept their voices deliberately low, even though the twins had slept through the popping bubble wrap, the silly play and Emily’s visit. Annie had scoured up some cookies from a cabinet in the boy’s playroom, and they were enjoying a dessert, of sorts. She tilted her head and followed the drift of his gaze with her own.

“You think? I don’t know. I’ve grown up here, and any changes I’ve made have come so slowly, it’s hard to tell.” She took a cookie and settled into the chair next to his.

“You can take my word for it. This—” his arm swept the area they’d just spent the evening cleaning “—is a cool store. You have some neat stuff here. And your art has really improved through the years.”

Annie felt a flush crawl up her neck and burn in her cheeks. “No,” she murmured and ducked her head. He was simply saying these things because he was a bigshot and he could afford to be magnanimous to the struggling backwater artist.

“Yes. Take that one, for instance.” He nodded to a pastoral scene she’d done last year. “The way you’ve captured the reflection of that barn in the puddle…brilliant. You were always really good, but now—” he shrugged, his eyes never leaving her painting “—you’re great. I know galleries in the city that would kill for your stuff.”

Annie gave her head a modest shake. “No thanks. I have quite enough to keep me busy these days.”

“That’s true. But still, selling a few works in a city on the coast wouldn’t take all that much of your time. Especially if you had help with the marketing end. You’d have to have help.” His gaze shifted to the boys and a soft look settled behind his eyes. “As it is, I don’t know how you do it. These guys are enough to wear a triathlete out.”

She laughed. “Luckily, I don’t have to play space monster every day.”

Pulling a foot up over his knee, Wyatt leaned back and studied Annie through the steam of his cup. “You did a good thing by leaving school to come here, Annie. Even if I didn’t think so at the time.”

“It was really hard to know what to do.”

“I’m sure I was no help.”

“In your own way, you were.” Her smile was wan as she reflected on their past. “Right after Daddy had the first stroke and ended up in the hospital, I came here to the store to call you, because it was quiet here and I could cry and stuff. Anyway, you can imagine my surprise—” She looked away, swallowing and blinking. Shooting him a bleary smile, she fanned her flaming face with her hands. How silly that this memory still choked her up.

“Ahh, Annie, honey.” Wyatt heaved a cross between a sigh and a groan. He set down his cup and picking his chair up, moved right next to her and gathered her in his arms.

“When that girl answered and said you were in the shower, I—” Her laughter was strained. “I didn’t know what to think.”

Wyatt dragged a hand over the five o’clock shadow on his jaw. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m so very, very sorry about that. It was all a big mix-up.”

“Mix-up?”

“That’s what it was.”

“To you, Wyatt. Not to me.” She hated the plaintive quality in her voice and the fact that her eyes were filling with tears. “Too me it was a lie.”

“Now that I’m older and wiser, I can see how you wouldn’t believe my explanation. But, Annie girl, after all these years, I have no further reason to lie to you.” He cradled her head against his chest and she could hear his pulse pounding nearly as quickly as her own. With his thumb and forefinger, he tipped up her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “So here’s the honest truth. That girl in my room was just a study partner. Pure and simple. I give you my word that nothing was going on. Nothing. Annie, I was madly in love with you.”

Annie drew a deep breath and held it. In her heart, she’d known. But her world had been so violently rocked by the near loss of her father, and then, the feeling of betrayal. A sigh shuddered through her.

“I guess it was the part about you being in the shower that threw me.”

“And I can understand that. But there were a bunch of us. It was dead week. We’d study, then catnap, then take cold showers to wake up. I didn’t even find out you’d called until after the test. Unfortunately, by then, the damage was done.”

Annie lifted and dropped a shoulder. “It was all for the best. Your betrayal—”

“Alleged betrayal.”

“You are such a lawyer.” She fixed him with a bemused expression. “Anyway, that ‘mix-up’ was just the catalyst I needed to throw myself back into my life in Keyhole. To give up all those silly dreams of becoming some kind of fancy big-time artist—”

“They weren’t silly!”

“Compared to my father’s life, they were, Wyatt.”

He sighed. “You’re right. Back then, I just didn’t understand. I’m only just now beginning to get the meaning of family. And what I’ve missed out on over the years.” His gaze wandered back to her sleeping sons. “Annie, I don’t think I ever got over losing you.”

She closed her eyes. Nor I, you, she wanted to say. But that would be just plain stupid. They’d gone on with their lives. Gone in polar opposite directions. No use going there. “There’s nothing we can do about any of that now. It’s over. Done with.”

“I can apologize. I can beg your forgiveness. I will be able to sleep better, knowing that the wedge between us is gone. That the future will be—”

Frustrated, Annie leaned back and plunged her fingers into the springy coils of her hair. Elbows akimbo, she stared at him. “What future, Wyatt?” she cried, then leaning forward, lowered her voice to the intimate whisper they’d been sharing. “You live so far away. You’ve built a life for yourself. A good and important life. But so have I. I love it here. I need my family, especially where my boys are concerned. A long-distance friendship of any kind would be pointless.”

Annie knew long distance had done them in once. What made them think it would be any different now, as friends?

Wyatt was quiet for a very long time before he spoke again. “Annie, are you really happy here?”

“Of course. How could you even ask?”

“Because once upon a time, being an artist and illustrator was everything to you.”

“And now I’m just somebody’s mom, moldering away in some middle-of-nowhere town.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It’s what you meant.”

Annie stood and began gathering the paper plates and other mess from their impromptu meal. As far as she was concerned, this discussion was over. Arms full, she marched over to the garbage receptacle under the cashier’s desk and dumped her load. She gave her hands a savage dusting and turning, nearly bumped into Wyatt.

He grasped her arms to steady her, and didn’t let go. “I didn’t come here to cast aspersions on your lifestyle. To be honest with you, I’m a little jealous of all you’ve done for yourself.”

“Sure.” Head tilted back, she cast him a derisive smile, then allowed her eyes to slide shut. “Wyatt, I know I err on the side of playing it safe. Too safe, sometimes.” She lifted her gaze to his. “That for all my fine talk, when we were kids, I probably would have hated the city and the dog-eat-dog artist community. I’m comfortable here in Keyhole. This is where I want to be.”

“You’ve never tried anything else.”

“I don’t have to try it to know that I’d be miserable.”

“You’re hiding behind your family.”

“No, I’m not! Wyatt, you are the risk taker, not me. You are drawn to new and challenging worlds. If we’d have married back when we were kids, I’d—”

He tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her close. “What?”

Annie gulped back the tears. Tears that she’d thought she’d been through crying years ago. “I’d have held you back.”

“Is that what you think?”

“That’s what I know.” She glanced away. The boys were still snoozing, and the only sounds in the store were the occasional chime or cuckoo of an antique clock, and the gentle whir of the heater clicking on. Other than this, the world was silent.

“You’d never have held me back. Don’t you see? You were everything to me. Annie, I’d have done anything for you.”

“Except give up your career.”

“Then.”

“You mean to tell me you’d give it all up now? For me?” Her gaze shifted over his face and settled on his mouth. A pensive quirk pulled the corners tight.

“Are you asking me to?”

“No,” she whispered, not knowing what she wanted anymore. A week ago she thought she had her future all figured out. Run the shop, raise the boys, send them to college, enjoy her grandchildren, putter in the garden, do a bit of painting. Now she wasn’t so sure.

“Annie,” he whispered, cupping her cheeks in his hands and looking deeply into her eyes, “I gave up a future with you because I thought it was what you wanted. I would do anything to make you happy. Anything.” Eyes flashing, he brought their noses together. “Annie, girl, don’t you know, I’d die for you?”

Annie’s heart thundered and she clutched his arms as he sought her mouth.

“That I am dying for you?”

He closed his mouth over hers in a kiss that stripped Annie of any sense of reality and zapped her back to a more carefree time. A time when she had her whole life ahead of her. A time when she could be anything she wanted. Live where she wanted. Make a life with whom she wanted.

And right now—again, always—she wanted Wyatt.



Bruised and bleeding from his stint in the brambles with the hydrophobic Fifi, Snake Eyes hobbled back to his rent-a-wreck and, holding one hand over his eye to better discern the number of lanes that swam before him, drove to Main Street to find a pay phone. He managed to successfully land between two cars and the curb, doing only a minor amount of damage to each bumper. Throwing open his door, he fell out to the sidewalk and lay there for a moment, breathing hard.

Chasing runaways was hard work.

Nicotine. Yeah. A cig would give him the energy he needed to drag himself to his feet, so he rolled to his side, fished in his pockets for a moment, then fired up a smoke and filled his lungs.

A couple out for a moonlight stroll stared as they approached.

“Herb, isn’t he the man who was laying on the floor at the restaurant the other night?” the woman wondered.

“Looks like him.” Herb grunted. “Evenin’,” he said as he towered over Snake Eyes.

Hat askew, flesh clawed, clothes covered in blood, Snake Eyes squinted up at them through a cloud of smoke.

“Are you all right?” The woman’s pity made Snake Eyes mad.

“Yeah. Why? You own this ssidewalk, lady? Cuz if you don’t, then you can go straight to he-ic-up—” He burped and waved drunkenly.

“Why, you ill-mannered—”

“C’mon, Gert. Leave him be.”

“I think we should call the sheriff…”

“Why? He’s done nothing wrong.”

Their voices trailed off and when they were a good two blocks away, Snake Eyes gripped his car door and hauled himself to his feet. He stood swaying for a minute, then staggered to the phone booth on the corner. After taking his ill-humor out on a perfectly nice operator, he was eventually connected to Prosperino.

Meredith picked up on the first ring. “Why are you calling me so late?”

Snake Eyes could feel her fury vibrating across the lines. So what? He didn’t give a rat’s patoon-ya. “Where’s my money?”

“What money?”

“I went to the bank today. No deposit activity.”

“Did you do the job?”

Snake Eyes banged the receiver against the wall a few times for good measure. “Not till I get paid.”

“You’ll get paid when you do the job!”

“I’ll do the damned job when I get paid!”

“Don’t mess with me, you disgusting, low-life reprobate.” Her voice shook with anger as she drew in a deep breath and muttered, “If you don’t finish what you started, you odious pig, you’ll see no more money.”

“I’ll visit the bank again tomorrow and we’ll see.” Bored with this conversation and needing fortification and more than a few stitches, Snake Eyes hung up and headed across the street to the one joint that stayed open all night.



Wyatt had no idea how long they’d been standing there, bodies pressed together, hands caressing, mouths locked and seeking, communicating without words the feelings they still harbored for each other. He knew he could go on like this forever and never look back.

But could Annie? She’d found love again. Made a life with another man. Created life with him, for pity’s sake. That was heavy stuff.

And then there was the minor problem of their living arrangements. He had a new and already thriving family law practice with his brother Rand. She had a thriving family business, handed down from her father. And in between lay a couple thousand miles. Hard to be a good husband with that kind of a commute.

Wyatt couldn’t think with Annie so near. The smell of her, the feel of her, the taste of her were all too intoxicating. When they were together this way all rational thought fled and he dreamed of fathering two little redheaded boys and refinishing furniture for the rest of his life. But that simply wasn’t realistic.

Taking Annie’s hands in his, he gently tugged them from where they were locked around his neck and, lips still touching, took a small step back.

She moaned, echoing his own dispossessed feelings when their bodies parted company.

“It’s getting late. I really should go,” he murmured, kissing the corners of her suddenly downturned mouth.

She pouted. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

“And how would we explain that to your mother? To the boys? To yourself, in the morning, after you’ve had time to repent in leisure?”

A tortured groan rumbled from deep within her throat. “Isn’t that my line? When did you turn so darned practical?”

“The lawman in me, I guess.”

“Well, tell him to shut up and kiss me.”

Wyatt did.

And then, after a kiss that was filled with a desperate yearning on both parts, he let go of her and took several big steps back. Breathing hard, he dragged a hand across his face and stood staring at her for a moment.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll help you load the boys in your car, and then I’ll follow you home and help you put them to bed.”

Dazed, Annie nodded.

Seven

The boys were heavy as lead rag dolls. They stirred only briefly as, one at a time, Wyatt hauled them from the car and up to their rooms. Chopper staggered to his doggy bed in the front room and, with a tired groan, circled several times, flopped down and was asleep.

“You gonna stay all night with us?” Alex murmured against his neck as Wyatt carried him up the stairs.

Wyatt darted a wistful glance over his shoulder at Annie, who carried her son’s shoes and jacket.

“I’m afraid not, cowboy,” he said to the child.

“Darn.”

“I’ll come play with you tomorrow, how’s that?”

Alex responded by tightening his grip around Wyatt’s neck and burrowing against his chest.

Noah didn’t rouse until he was being tucked in. “Hi, space monster.” His voice was so small. He was still such a baby, really, plump cheeks, pudgy little fingers, smooth, lightly freckled skin.

“Hey, rascal.” Wyatt perched at the edge of his bed. Annie hovered at the end, folding his comforter and straightening the stack of clothing they’d just stripped off the boys.

Holding out his arms, Noah tugged Wyatt close for a hug. “G’night.” As the boy yawned, sleepy, warm breath tickled Wyatt’s face and before the child let him go, he planted a noisy kiss on the edge of his stubbled jaw. “Ouch. Stickers,” he mumbled.

Wyatt felt a lump the size of Wyoming settle in his throat and it was then and there that he lost his heart to Annie’s boys.

“Sorry about that, buddy.” He smoothed back the copper hair and kissed the freckled forehead.

“Tomorrow you’ll read us a story?”

“I promise.”

“Goody.” Noah rolled over and was instantly back asleep.

As he sat, watching the child sleep, Wyatt felt Annie’s arms slide over his shoulders and lock over his heart. She stood behind him, her voice low in his ears.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” He kept his voice soft. “Besides, they’re getting too big for you to lug around by yourself.”

He could feel her smile grow against his cheek. “True, but that’s not what I meant. Thank you for being their buddy. They need a man’s influence.”

“I remember dying for my dad’s attention when I was their age.”

“I’ll bet you do.” Annie sighed and squeezed. Wyatt reached up and closed his hands over hers.

“At least their father wasn’t some old drunk who’d come home and beat on ’em for sport.”

Annie was silent.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring their daddy into this. I know you really…” Wyatt licked his lips. Why was it always so blessed hard to talk about her late husband? The poor guy was no longer even around to compete with, and yet he felt the jealousy roil every time he thought of him. “I know you really cared for him and it must be so hard on you, raising them without his support.”

She tilted her head, resting his against his. “Every child should have a good and loving father. I know that my dad made a huge difference in my life.”

“Just as Joe did in mine.”

“He’s a good man.”

“The best.” Joe had a passel of children of his own, but somehow Wyatt was made to feel that even though he’d been fostered into the family when he was a school-aged boy, he was no less a member of the clan than if he’d been born a Colton.

“He did a pretty good job with you.”

Wyatt leaned back and smiled. “I’ll tell him you said so.”

“Are you going to see him soon?”

“This weekend. My cousin Liza—”

“The singer?”

“That’s the one.”

“I’ve seen her on PBS. She’s good. Really good.”

“Isn’t she? Anyway, she’s getting married on Saturday.”

“So you’re flying back?”

There was a note of melancholy in her quiet voice that did his heart good.

“Mm-hmm. But then I’m coming back here.”

“Why?”

“I have some vacation time to burn. One of the advantages of the bachelor life, I guess.”

“No, I mean why here?”

Wyatt stood and led her to the door. “Must you ask?” he whispered, and then kissed her good-night. And, in doing so, came to realize that they’d begun something that would tear him up to finish.



The following morning Wyatt met Emily at her tiny cottage apartment for breakfast. Sunlight streamed in through a bank of windows in her dining area. Containers of all kinds, including old shoes, cluttered a card table and were filled with the first flowers of spring making the small area a veritable botanical bower on a shoestring. Emily had inherited—as much as an adopted daughter could—her mother’s love of gardening, it seemed. Wyatt couldn’t help but smile. Clearly, she’d spent all of her tip money on plants over the past months.

As he stood in the kitchen, helping her chop ingredients for an omelet, he could see why she loved it here in Keyhole. This was a great place to live. To run a business. Raise a family. With each day that passed he found he was increasingly reticent to leave.

But leave, he must.

He glanced at Emily, hesitating to bring Patsy’s name into the quiet serenity.

“You have time to take a look at that stuff that Austin sent?”

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes.

“That bad, huh?”

“No.” She cast him a watery smile. “It’s the onions.”

Wyatt laughed.

She pressed her wrist to her nose and sniffed. “Actually, it is that bad, but I’m not really surprised. I’ve read it all at least a half a dozen times. Austin did a great job. Talk about in-depth.”

“Mmm.” Wyatt scooped up the onions that Emily’d been chopping and added them to the tomatoes and mushrooms that sizzled in the frying pan. “Austin is nothing if not thorough.”

“I’m glad he included a lot of Patsy Portman’s history. Did you know that she had a baby by some guy named Ellis Mayfair when she was only eighteen?”

“Yup. From what I gather, old Ellis was a used car salesman—a married one at that—who would blow through town twice a month and visit our Patsy. When she turned up pregnant, he wanted her to get an abortion. She said ‘no way,’ thinking that, get this, she could hide the pregnancy from her mother and Meredith.”

“Yeah, but the weird part is, she was successful. How could her mother not notice that she was pregnant?” Emily shook her head in disbelief. “Some of the reports say that she had her baby in a motel room with only this Ellis character to attend her. Can you believe that?”

“Bizarre, huh?” Wyatt gripped the frying pan by the handle and flipped the browning vegetables. The aroma of caramelizing onions filled the air.

“Did you know that she murdered him?”

“Um-hmm.”

“With a pair of scissors.”

“Brutal.”

They were silent for a long moment. Butter hissed as Emily added a pat to the second frying pan and she adjusted the heat as it skittered across the iron surface. Outside her kitchen window, birds twittered. Fifi barked and the sounds of mail dropping through the slot in the door filtered back to them. The conversation, it seemed to Wyatt, was surreal in this happy, normal environment.

“Wonder what her motive was.” Emily began cracking eggs and a shell fell into the bowl. Deep in thought, she fished it out with a spoon.

“Apparently, he stole the baby from Patsy while she was asleep.”

“Did you know the baby was a girl? Jewel.”

“Yeah. Wonder where she is.”

“Well, the stuff Austin sent says that Ellis sold her.”

“I know.”

Emily stared up at Wyatt, her plaintive expression reminding him of the kid he used to push in a swing not so very long ago. “He sold his own daughter, Wyatt. What kind of a man would do that?”

“One that would date Patsy.”

Her snort was mirthless as she cracked another egg. “Do you think Patsy knows I’m here?” Worry marred her delicate brow and Wyatt’s heart went out to her.

“No. I don’t think so, honey. But, as you can see from her history, she’s very clever. I wouldn’t put anything past her. That’s why I’m such a nag about your safety.”

“And I thank you.” A small smile nudged at the anxiety in her expression and she set back to work. “You know, there were some really interesting records about Patsy’s mental state as a child. From what I’ve read, I get the feeling that a lot of her problems stemmed from her father’s rejection.”

Wyatt snorted. “Yeah, well, just because daddy wasn’t Mr. Sensitivity is no reason to go all postal.”

“Of all people, you should know about a father’s rejection.”

“Yeah. I should know.”

While Emily whisked the eggs, he dug around in her cabinets until he came up with some paper plates and two ugly mugs, which he set on the kitchen’s tiny eating bar. Considering she’d lived here less than a year, this place was outfitted with everything a person would need to survive quite comfortably. She’d been hitting the garage sales, he noted, taking in the mishmash of thrift shop kitchen utensils. Impressed, Wyatt gave his head a small shake. Even though she’d grown up in the lap of luxury, Emily was not afraid of hard work. Joe would be very proud.

Emily paused to pour the eggs into the frying pan. “Did you read the part where Patsy tried to frame Mom for Ellis’s murder back in 1967?”

“Wasn’t she just precious? No wonder Mom never wanted to talk about her. What a piece of work.”

“I just hope you guys are able to prove that she’s behind Dad’s murder attempt, and mine—and possibly Mom’s—and put her away once and for all.”

Wyatt took the now screaming kettle off the burner and filled their mugs with hot water and instant coffee. “We’re working on it, kiddo. Night and day.”

“I know. And I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.” Emily reached for the mug Wyatt handed her and blew across the rim. “So. On to more pleasant conversation. You and Annie. What gives?”

Wyatt threw back his head and laughed. “Women. You’re all alike. All conspiring to end my carefree bachelor days.”

“Has Lucy been matchmaking?”

“You could say that. She called this morning. Wanted to know how you were doing and to find out if I’ve decided to marry Annie yet.”

Emily laughed. “Have you?”

“How the heck should I know?”

“Are you in love with her?”

“More now than ever.”

“Then what’s holding you back?”

“Well, for starters, several thousand miles and the ghost of a loving husband and father.”

“Oh.” She took a thoughtful sip of her coffee. “For you, that should pose no problem.”

“Emily, I’m not Superman.”

“To me, you are.”



After several botched attempts at remembering his PIN number, Snake Eyes finally managed to get the ATM machine at the Wyoming Federal Savings and Loan on Main Street to begin the litany of hoops he needed to navigate, in order to check his balance.

Welcome, Silas Aloysius Pike.

He stared at his name and remembered he hated his mother all over again. Even his initials screamed under-achiever.

Okay. He squinted at the swimming screen, moving his lips as he read. Did he wish to: check the balance of his primary checking, primary savings, secondary checking, secondary savings, withdraw money from his primary checking or savings, make a deposit, request further information or exit?

How in Sam Hill should he know?

Cursing roundly, Snake Eyes punched the button that best seemed to correspond with moving this damned process along and the machine beeped at him, causing a stabbing pain to sear his brain. He should know better than to do this after a breakfast of Bloody Marys. Then again, having to do this sober would only make him mad. Why couldn’t Marilyn or Muffy or Meredith or whatever-the-hell-her-name-was just send him a suitcase full of money the way they did in the movies?

Again, he punched a series of buttons, following the flashing cursor to the best of his ability and the machine spit his card back out at him. He stared at it for a moment, knowing that his PIN number had slipped once again into the muzzy recesses of his gray matter and bam, bam, bam, out of frustration, he gave the machine a couple of rapid-fire right crosses to the key pad, and some left-handed jabs to the tiny little TV screen with the picture of the happy, smiling teller. He cursed her perky face and decided that after Emily, this broad was next.

Much to his amazement, a receipt spewed forth from the bowels of the bank and the perky teller thanked him for using the Wyoming Federal Savings and Loan ATM machine. Snake Eyes grunted and held the receipt out at arm’s length. When he was finally able to decipher the numbers that swam before his eyes, his jaw sagged.

The Colton broad had finally come through. There was money in his account. A lot of money. Not as much as he’d asked for, but enough.

Time to get to work.

After a little celebration, of course. After all, it wasn’t every day that Silas A. Pike’s ship pulled into the harbor.

A little skip in his stagger, Snake Eyes headed toward the local watering hole for some libation and to strategize. He needed to form a game plan for tonight. His fingers itched and his stomach tingled at the thought.

“Bye-bye, little Emily,” he muttered, then threw back his head and howled with laughter.



“So. Mom tells me that Wyatt is back.”

Annie took her younger sister, Brynn’s, grim expression and critical tone to mean that she was not pleased at this news. Annie sighed. Brynn was always such a little freedom fighter. Truth, justice and the American way. With Brynn, everything was just so danged black and white.

“Yes. He came to town two days ago and decided to look me up while he was here.”

“I can’t believe you’d even speak to him, after what he did to you.”

As they’d done every Monday morning at ten since Annie could remember, they were in her antique store sharing a cup of coffee and a small bag of donuts. This morning it was soft, warm maple bars, gooey with frosting and baked an hour ago at the bakery across the street. They had the place to themselves as it was still a bit early for the tourist crowd to begin filtering in and the boys were in preschool until noon.

“He didn’t do anything to me. It was simply a misunderstanding.”

Donut poised at her lips, Brynn stared at her sister. “Since when?”

“He explained everything. And, now out from under the stress of Daddy’s illness, I can see that I jumped to conclusions. Conclusions that made it less painful to stay home and run the business. The girl in his shower was a study partner. Nothing more.”

“And you believe that?”

“What reason would he have to lie to me now? It’s not like we’re still dating or anything.”

Brynn waved her mug under Annie’s nose. “Hello? Wake up. Smell the coffee. He just happens to be here in Keyhole of all places and decides to look you up? He’s got some kind of motive.”

“As a matter of fact, he does. His sister lives here now.”

“You’re kidding. Here? In Keyhole? Well, now there’s a happy accident.” Clearly, Brynn was skeptical.

“It’s not that hard to believe, Brynn. His foster father grew up down the road in Nettle Creek. He wanted to visit some family and, since I lived here too, he stopped by. And I’m really glad he did.” Annie broke off a piece of her donut and fed it to the salivating Chopper.

Brynn’s heavy, world-weary sigh amused Annie. “Annie, I just hate to see you get hurt again. Your marriage to Carl left you with a broken heart.”

“Who said anything about marriage? Besides, he’s different now.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. More mature.”

“Which is just another way of saying he’s pruney and gray.”

Annie laughed at her sister’s puckered expression. “He is not.”

Brynn grinned and laughed too. “Okay. He’s not gray because he’s bald.”

“Hey now, he looks great in those Bermuda shorts and black socks. His wing tips are new and very shiny.”

“Eeewww!” Brynn hooted. “He sounds just like Dad. Does he have big old bushy eyebrows, too?”

“Why don’t you judge for yourself? Here he comes now.” Through her front window Annie watched Wyatt come out of the Mi-Ti-Fine Café and instinctively knew he’d just dropped Emma off at work and was coming to spend the morning here in the shop.

“No thanks. I’m gonna skedaddle. I have a house to show. Besides, if you want to make a mess of your life, that’s your busin—” Brynn’s head swiveled and she followed Annie’s gaze with her own “—esssss. Oh, my,” she murmured, as Wyatt strode toward the store. “I’d forgotten how cute he was. He looks just the same. Better even.”

“I told ya so,” Annie sang under her breath.

“No wonder you’re all gaga over him.”

“Would you shut up? I’m not ‘all gaga.’”

“You must be. How could you not be? You’re only human. I hear wedding bells.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Don’t let him get away.”

“Hey, weren’t you the one, not five minutes ago, telling me to wake up and smell the coffee?”

“That was then.” Brynn tucked in her blouse and inspected her teeth with her tongue for stray bits of donut. “Back when he had Bermuda shorts and a bumper crop of ear hair.”

The front door opened, and there stood Wyatt.

“Wyatt!” Brynn gushed.

“Brynn? Is that you?”

Brynn fell all over herself as she stood and attempted to smooth the wild coils of her distinctive Summers hair. “Long time, no see!” She twittered like MaryPat and held her hand out in a most coquettish manner.

Annie rolled her eyes. Where was her freedom fighter when she needed her? She’d been counting on Brynn and MaryPat to shake some sense into her when it came to Wyatt. Instead, it seemed she was the one who might end up having to do some shaking.

Annie looked on as Wyatt ignored Brynn’s hand and pulled her into his embrace. The soft flannel of the plaid shirt he wore muffled Brynn’s breathless giggle and she seemed positively dwarfed by his solid build. After he rocked her back and forth for a moment, he set her away from him and looked her over.

“Tin-grin Brynn! Last time I saw you was back when I was in college and I came to Keyhole for Christmas. You had braces on your teeth. And now look at this smile. Nearly as beautiful as your big sister’s.”

“Oh, stop.” Blushing, Brynn batted at his arm.

Annie rubbed her temples. For the love of Pete. Was there a single member of her family that didn’t lose all sight of reality the moment Wyatt walked into the room? She motioned to the door. “Brynn, don’t you have to be going?”

“In a minute.” Eyes as glazed as the maple bar she’d abandoned, Brynn stared up at Wyatt. “So, I hear your Dad grew up not far from Keyhole and you have family in the area. Isn’t that a co-inky-dink? Does this mean you’ll be visiting Wyoming more often?”

“I’m hopeful.” He shot a meaningful glance at Annie.

“Brynn, don’t you have a house to show?”

“Yes, yes, whatever.”

“So Annie tells me you’re in real estate now.”

“Mm-hum.” Brynn wrapped a ginger coil of her hair around her finger and cast a sly glance at her sister. “I’d be happy to show you around, if you decide for, you know, whatever reason, that you might want to buy a piece of real estate in this area.”

Wyatt pinched his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. “You just never know.”

“Really? That’s great!”

It seemed that if Brynn had her way, Wyatt would be moving in next week. Mortified, Annie gave her throat a noisy clearing.

“Brynn?”

“Right, right. I have to go. But listen. It was wonderful seeing you again.” She rummaged in her purse and withdrew a business card. “Call me. If you ever want to get out of that nasty old city, I’d be delighted to help.”



An awkward moment passed after Brynn breezed out. It was a while before either of them spoke again and in that time, memories of last night’s all-too-brief good-night kiss filled Wyatt’s mind. He knew that if he could feel the heat that shimmered between them, she could too. The temperature inside the store seemed to suddenly rise ten degrees, and Wyatt shucked out of his jacket and tossed it behind the counter that held the cash register. He cocked a hip against the counter and crossing his legs at the ankles, shot her a tentative smile.

She answered with curved lips and slowly sank back into her chair.

A certainty that there could never again be happiness without this woman in his life suddenly filled Wyatt’s belly with dread. Somehow, they had to figure out a way to be together. They had to finish what they’d started so many years ago in the shadows next to the campus library when, with one heart-stopping kiss, she’d become a part of his very soul.

Wyatt had to admit that coming to Keyhole and falling back in love with a woman who lived in a different world was sheer folly. But folly or not, the wheels were set in motion and he was helpless to stop.

Realizing he’d been staring, Wyatt pushed off the counter and moved to stand behind Annie. He placed his hands on her shoulders and bent to kiss her neck.

“Good morning,” he whispered against the smooth, warm column of her throat.

“Mmm, morning.” Annie clasped her fingers around his wrists and lay back against his chest. “Sorry about my sister. She tends to be a little zealous when it comes to her work.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I just don’t want you to think that I’m plotting to get you to move to Keyhole.”

“I don’t think that.” He wished she was. “You know me. There’s nothing I admire more than a solid work ethic.”

“Just as long as she remembers what’s really important in this life.”

Wyatt had an uncanny feeling that this speech might be directed at him, and he grinned. Annie never forgot to put her family at the top of her list and was not shy about demanding that others do the same. How she managed to keep this place running so smoothly and at the same time keep her children happy and well adjusted was a testament to her determination.

“With you as an example,” he murmured against her neck, “I don’t see how she could fail.”

He tipped her chin up with his forefinger and lowered his mouth to hers for the kiss he’d dreamed of ever since last night, when he’d left her standing at the top of her stairs, the feel of her lips still burning on his. He’d known that if he didn’t leave at that very moment, there would be emotional hell to pay. So he’d gone. But to what end? His emotions were in a tangled knot anyway. All night he’d tossed and turned, anticipating the next opportunity to kiss Annie.

Annie seemed to sense what he was feeling and responded in kind. She turned in her chair and then slowly rose to stand within his embrace, wrapping herself around him like a honeysuckle vine, delicate, yet strong and oh, so fragrant. Together, bodies entwined, they stood, lungs heaving, hearts pounding, mouths searching, seeking.

Since before he’d arrived, Wyatt had known it would be like this between them again, a long smoldering ember, flaring to life, burning out of control when given the tiniest bit of oxygen. He filled his hands with her wonderful hair and pulled her closer still, kicking a chair out of his way. Never breaking their kiss, he lifted her up onto the table and pulled her thighs around his hips. She locked her legs around his at her ankles and circled her arms around his neck. One palm on the tabletop, he cradled her back in his other arm, pressing against her, thrilling to the feel of a physical closeness that mirrored their emotional bond.

Wyatt was home.

Once again.

For home, family and future were all in Annie’s arms.

It was very unfortunate, to Wyatt’s way of thinking, that the first customer of the day would choose this precise moment to arrive. Luckily, they were shielded by a bank of china cabinets. With a tortured groan, he pulled her off the tabletop, stood her on her feet and kissed her nose.

“Later,” he whispered.

“Mmm,” she answered as she let her hands slide slowly over his chest. With a deep breath, she set about straightening up the breakfast mess she’d made with Brynn.

Having nothing better to do now that Emily was safe and sound next door, Wyatt put himself to work.

“Hi!” He held up hand and gave a jaunty little nice-to-see-you wave to the two customers, a middle-aged woman and the elderly lady she referred to as “Mom.”

“Hello.” The ladies smiled.

Wyatt advanced. “Is there anything I can help you with today?”

“Yes. Do you have any Madrilla vases? We have a friend from Spain who collects them and her birthday is this Saturday.”

Wyatt nodded, mentally searching the myriad shelves he’d dusted for Annie. “Come with me,” he advised. “I know we have a lot of vases back here, but if you ask me, they’re all pretty ugly.” He ignored Annie’s strangled gasp. “Now, I know we have one of those washbasin-type pitcher and bowl sets. You could stick some flowers in that and pretend it’s a vase.” He climbed onto a chair and retrieved a pitcher, hand painted with delicate roses and gold trim.

“Wyatt!”

Wyatt sighed. Annie’s face was all scrunched into a wad of concern. “Relax, Annie.” To the women he said, “She hates it when we jump on the furniture. Could you catch?” He gently lobbed the pitcher into the daughter’s waiting arms.

Annie covered her face and emitted a guttural squawk.

“Oh, yeah. Mom, this would be perfect for Carmen’s entry hall.”

“But Carmen collects Madrilla.”

“Madrilla, Shramilla.” Wyatt waved an impatient hand and let the bowl dangle from the other. “You don’t want to give her an ugly vase, do you?”

Annie’s exhale hissed though her lips like a leaky balloon.

Mom shrugged. “No…”

“He’s right, Mom. I always thought those Madrilla vases were hideous.” The daughter grinned at Wyatt. “We’ll take the pitcher.”

Annie looked up, eyes wide.

“Cool! But wait! There’s more! The little washstand that goes with the pitcher set is on sale.” Wyatt remembered Annie telling him about a lot of these pieces as he’d carted them hither and yon the other night. He leapt off the chair, handed the bowl to “Mom,” vaulted over a love seat and lifted the washstand into the aisle. “It was made by some pioneer or other from around here, I think. Or maybe that was that funky little stool over there.”

Again, Annie’s head flopped into her hands.

“Look at the dovetail work in the little drawers. Made with dowels and square nails. Don’t see that anymore. If you ask me, we’re giving the dumb thing away.”

“We’ll take that,” the daughter said, “and the funky little stool, too. I’ve been looking for a stool exactly like that for my pump organ.”

Before they’d paid, arranged for delivery and left, more customers had arrived.

“Hi there,” Wyatt greeted the young couple before Annie could make it out from behind the cash register and deliver the lecture he sensed poised on her lips. “Whatcha looking for today?”

“We’re looking for a pane of old style bubble glass to replace a broken window in our home.”

“Hmm…bubble glass, bubble glass. Never heard of it.”

“I don’t know if that’s the exact name of the stuff, but it looks like glass with little bubbles in it.”

“Sounds weird. Are you sure that’s what you want? I mean, now that it’s broken, I say good riddance.” Again, he ignored Annie’s indignant cluckings and flabbergasted gasps. He grinned. At times, she sure sounded like MaryPat. “Come with me and check out these really old stained glass windows. They’ll knock your socks off.”

When he’d sold the window, he approached another customer that Annie was now too busy to take on. “Hi. Whaddya need? We’ve got it.”

“I don’t know what I’m looking for, actually,” the befuddled woman said. “I need a little something or other for this corner in my dining room and I thought about putting a hat rack or something…I don’t know.”

“A hat rack? Tacky.”

“Tacky?”

Annie moaned.

“Trust me. You don’t want a hat rack. Come here. You have to see this really cool Victrola that comes with an assortment of ancient records.”

When he’d sold the Victrola, he went on to sell two of Annie’s paintings, a settee, a pair of really old oak and wrought iron school desks and a hurricane lamp. All before noon.

Annie sighed, blowing her bangs out of her eyes as she checked that morning’s totals. “Wow, this was a bell-ringer day,” she murmured. “The totals are more than twice my average.”

“So. Do I get the job?”

She glanced up. “Are you applying?”

“You never know.”

Her dimples bloomed as she glanced up at the ceiling. “Well, I don’t agree with all of your sales tactics, but I guess I have to say you sell circles around me.”

“Aww, shucks, ma’am. Yer just sayin’ that.”

“You ever think about leaving law and going into sales?”

“Sometimes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Their gazes locked and held for a long, electric moment, and Wyatt wished he knew what she was thinking.

“Not antique sales,” she hedged, flustered. “You know, any kind of sales. You’d be good at anything you set your mind to.”

“I know what you’re trying to say. And thank you.” Again, they stood and simply smiled at each other.

Outside, the noon whistle sounded down at the Keyhole fire station.

“I have to go get the boys. Want to come?”

“Yes. Put up the Gone Fishing sign. I’m taking you guys on a picnic.”

“Wyatt, I can’t just up and close the store.”

“Why not? You made twice as much money as usual this morning, you said so yourself.”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts. I’ll come back this afternoon and help you make another killing.”

Eight

“Higher!” Noah squealed. Head back, mouth wide open and filled with laughter, he hung on for dear life as Wyatt pulled the boy’s swing back over his head and allowed him to hover.

“I can’t hold you any higher than this,” Wyatt protested. “I’d need a ladder.”

“Then go get a ladder!” Noah dangled backward and giggled like a loon.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes!” Noah shrieked.

Wyatt released the swing and Noah flew. Excited, Chopper barked and wagged his tail.

“Weeee ahhh ha ha haaaaaaaa!”

Noah laughed so hard, Annie feared he’d fall. Although, she could hardly interfere. For the last four hours, her boys had giggled and laughed and squealed with the unmitigated joy of children who’d discovered Disneyland personified. Wyatt wrestled them, swung them, pushed them, chased them, galloped them around the small delightful, tree-filled park in Keyhole’s town square, and gave them his undivided attention.

And she’d never seen them happier. She’d never seen Chopper happier, for that matter.

“My turn, my turn!” Alex flung his arms around Wyatt’s waist and tugged. “I want to swing, Wyatt. Please?”

“Just a minute, spaceman. You just had a long turn. It’s your brother’s turn.”

“But he’s already been up there forever.”

“Spacemen don’t whine, buddy.”

Alex laughed and waved his arms at his mother. “Mom! Come here and push me. We’ll race these guys.”

Annie shook her head. “Alex, you’ve had your turn. As soon as Noah’s turn is over, I want you guys to let Wyatt rest for a while. You guys can push each other. He’s tired.”

“No he’s not, Mom. He wants to play with us.” Alex looked up at Wyatt. “Doncha, Wyatt?”

“Yep. I love to play with you guys, but we have to obey your mother.”

“You don’t have to obey her. You’re a grown-up.”

Wyatt winked at the child, then shifted his gaze over to Annie and grinned. “Alex old man, one of these days you’re going to learn that all us guys have to obey the girls. That’s life.”

“Awh.”

Amid much protest, Wyatt managed to extricate himself from the boys and the dog and make it back to the picnic table where Annie waited with an ice-cold glass of milk and a tin of home-baked cookies.

“Tired?” Annie reached out and gave his arm a squeeze. Wyatt looked as if he’d met his match in her sons.

“Umm.” Wyatt flopped down on the bench and mopped his brow with a napkin. “Pooped. Those guys wear me out.”

“I know. I just wish I had half their energy. I could run the world.”

“You already do, trust me.”

They smiled at each other, the way parents smile when they’ve spent the day enjoying their children. She sat down next to him as he dug into the pie and a sense of serenity washed over her that she hadn’t felt since she used to lie in the Memorial Union Quad with Wyatt and pretend to study biology while she actually studied his body and dreamed about their future together.

A future filled with love and laughter and their children. A future not unlike today. Only in this fantasy, Wyatt stayed.

The noon hour hand come and gone long ago and Annie had ignored the inner voice that urged her back to work. Wyatt was right. The store would still be there when she got back.

But Wyatt wouldn’t.

Not after this week, anyway. And, even if he came back after the wedding, which Annie highly doubted, he would eventually have to leave Keyhole. Go back to being a mover and shaker in the nation’s capital. The boys needed this time with him. She would have the rest of her life to run the store. She only had the rest of the week to spend with Wyatt.

The thought made her melancholy and she stared off through the trees. Behind the rugged, snow-tipped mountain peaks that surrounded Keyhole, the sky was a deep, cloudless blue. Over the western horizon the sun hovered high, but it wouldn’t be long before it began its nightly descent. In the shade, the temperature was already growing cool.

Annie glanced at her watch. There were only a few hours of daylight left. By the time she got the kids home, bathed and fed, and helped them clean up after the tornado that had touched down in their room that morning, it would be bedtime. Wyatt had promised to read to them tonight after he checked on his sister and made sure that she was home, safe and sound.

Annie rested her chin in her hands and watched him as he ate. She couldn’t help but notice that he was unusually adamant about Emma’s safety. It was odd. Especially here in Keyhole, where the crime rate was practically zero. Something was going on there, Annie guessed and, when they had a few uninterrupted moments together, she was going to come out and ask.

The little lines at the corners of Wyatt’s eyes forked as he sensed her staring. Angling his head, he gave her a smile that had her palms suddenly clammy.

The years had been very, very kind to Wyatt. He was far better-looking now, in his thirties, than he’d ever been in his early twenties. He’d been such a cute boy, but now he was a man. Everything about him screamed power. Position. Self-assurance. Sex appeal.

Annie swallowed.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he murmured in that silky voice she remembered from a long ago night under the trees next to the campus library.

“Me? My thoughts?”

“Mm. I’m sure they’re much more interesting, not to mention less exhausting than their thoughts.” He pointed at the boys who were hanging by their knees from the monkey bars.

“No comment.” Annie laughed.

He arched a brow and studied her from beneath lazily hooded eyes. “That’s interesting. So you have some thoughts about wearing me out?”

“I thought after all the furniture I made you move the other night that you’d run screaming.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“I know what you’re talking about.”

“What am I talking about?”

“You know.” Annie felt the laughter well.

His grin began at one corner of his mouth and slowly spread to the other. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes. You do.”

“Kiss me.” Wyatt pushed his plate away and turned to face her on the bench.

“See. You know.”

“Are you gonna kiss me?”

“Here? In front of the boys?”

“I doubt that it’ll traumatize them too badly.”

“But what if someone sees us?”

“So what?”

“Well, I—”

“Would you shut up and kiss me?”

Annie inched forward on the bench and slid her arms up over his chest and around his neck. “Mm-hmm.” She sighed and settled her mouth against his and filled her fingers with the hair that curled at his nape. Her heart picked up speed and her whole body began to pulse. To come alive. To sing.

When she was with Wyatt like this, it was as if the rest of the world just dropped away, leaving the two of them completely alone to drown in the very essence of each other.

Or not.

“Eeeeew! Mush! Yuck! Look, Alex, they’re kissin’!”

“Yech!”

Making tremendous gagging noises, the boys ran up and tugged on their clothing. Wyatt ignored them, and refused to release Annie.

“Blach!” Alex yelled.

“Gross!” Noah shouted.

Annie could feel Wyatt’s smile against her mouth.

He pulled back just a fraction and scowled at the boys. “If you guys don’t back off, I’m gonna kiss you next.”

That was all it took for the boys to bolt, screaming and howling with laughter as they went.



“Scuse me, but what the hayell do you think you’re doin’?”

Snake Eyes started. “Uh, hiya.” After a deep drag on his cigarette to regain his composure, he scrambled down the ladder he’d been using to peer into Emily’s cottage and backed onto the sidewalk.

He bared his teeth in a false-smile at the bathrobe-and-slipper-clad woman who stood on the front porch next door. Pink sponge curlers sprouted from her head like Medusa’s snakes and her frown was feral. Like owner, like dog, the animal in her arms was also frowning.

Fifi. The dog struggled in her arms and growled, as if he remembered their tussle in the blackberry bushes the other night.

“Is the landlord here?” Snake Eyes improvised.

“Who the hayell wants to know?” the woman shouted, reminding Snake Eyes of his mother. Fifi barked and snapped, also reminding him of his mother.

His pulse went thready and he began to sweat. He was five years old all over again, and in trouble.

“I—I—I’m here to clean the gutters.” He pulled out a credit card receipt from last night’s debauchery at the all-night saloon on Main Street and held it out. “I got a work order here, says this place got a gutter leak.”

The woman cackled and shook her head. “What the hayell?”

Snake Eyes froze. She was onto his scheme. He considered bolting, but knew that, in his condition, he wouldn’t get to the end of the sidewalk before he passed out. Then he considered shutting her up with physical force, but the dog scared the pea-waddin’ out of him.

Much to his surprise, she turned and, with a dismissive wave of her hand, shuffled back into her apartment.

“You go ’head and fix the gutters and then you tell that jerk Simmons to get his butt out here and fix the damn roof. I never heard of anything so bass-akwards in all my born days. Fixin’ the damned gutters while the roof leaks like a bloody sieve.”

Fifi growled and snapped as his owner slammed the door behind her.

Snake Eyes breathed a sigh of relief and crammed his credit card receipt into his pocket. That had been just a hair too close for comfort.

He needed to get inside and out of sight. He glanced at his watch.

Five-thirty. He was early. She wouldn’t be home till seven, which gave him plenty of time to prep for the job. There were bushes by the door that would shield him as he picked the locks on her front door. He’d let himself in and make a sandwich. After all, killing on an empty stomach had never been his bag.



Wyatt helped Annie unload the boys and their stuff and the trunk full of groceries they’d shopped for on the way home from the park. Traipsing back and forth between the car and the house, they soon had it all carted inside. When Annie flipped on the kitchen lights, the shadows fell away and a cluttered warmth filled Wyatt with a feeling of rightness. Of belonging. Funny how he’d been here in Keyhole for less than a week but already felt more at home here in Wyoming than he had in all the years he’d lived in Washington, D.C.

“Mom, I’m thirsty.”

“Me too, Mom.”

“My hands are full. Ask Wyatt.”

“Wyatt, I’m thirsty.”

“Me too, Wyatt.”

As the boys and dog bobbed about underfoot, Annie glanced at him and it was almost as if she’d reached out and touched him, so great was his awareness of her lately. He could tell the feeling was mutual as their gazes connected and held over the heads of her boys.

“There’s ice water in the fridge,” she told him and inclined her head in that direction.

The boys pointed out the sippy cups and he awkwardly fixed them drinks. Then, he refilled Chopper’s water bowl.

“Thank you,” Annie murmured, brushing by him, catching his eye, smiling meaningfully and setting him on fire. “Can you stay for dinner? I’m making spaghetti and meat-balls.”

“Spaghetti? Yuck!” Alex clutched at his throat.

Exasperated, Annie shifted her gaze down to her son. “What are you talking about? You love spaghetti.”

“I hate it!”

Wyatt palmed the child’s head as if it were a basketball and waggled it back and forth. “All the more for me, then, I guess. Plus, if I eat all my dinner, I bet I’ll be able to really chase you. And catch you.”

“Nuh-uh!” Alex’s laughter rang out as he threw his arms and legs around Wyatt’s legs and hung on for dear life. “I’m eating all the spaghetti!”

“Alex, get off him.” To Wyatt she said, “I take it this means you’ll stay for dinner.”

“I’d love to. Give me an hour or two to run back to the hotel for a shower. While I’m there I want to check my messages and make sure that Emma made it home safely.”

“Oh.” Her brows knit thoughtfully.

As Wyatt peeled the giggling Alex off his legs and set to stowing milk and eggs into the refrigerator, he could tell that Annie wondered why he would even question Emily’s safety. By the curiosity behind her eyes, he knew she was brimming with dozens of unasked questions. Questions that he couldn’t answer. Not yet. Though he longed to tell her the truth and knew he could trust her with his life, at this point he felt that keeping her in the dark on this subject was safer for all involved.

“Okay.” Arms loaded with salad makings, Annie gave a little shrug and glanced at the clock. “That’ll give me plenty of time to get dinner ready and bake a pie too. You can be here by seven-thirty?”

“I get to sit by Wyatt!” Noah shouted.

“Me too!” Alex jostled in front of his brother.

“Sure. I can be here by seven-thirty.” He shut the refrigerator door and in two steps was standing behind Annie, arms around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder. “On the dot.”

“Are you gonna kiss my mom again?” Alex wondered.

“Blach.” Noah clutched his throat.

Wyatt could feel the heat rise in Annie’s cheeks and couldn’t hold back his amusement. “Do you guys think I should?”

Giggling, Alex and Noah whispered to each other, jostling and peeping up at the adults.

“Well?” Wyatt wondered.

“Yes,” the boys shouted, punch drunk with hilarity. “She likes it!”

“Is that true?” Wyatt murmured against her ear.

Annie sighed and leaning back, relaxed into his embrace. “Busted.”

Thus encouraged—and amid much laughter—Wyatt gave her the kiss they’d all been waiting for.



Snake Eyes polished off the last of a pan of Emily’s lemon bars and belched. Nothin’ like home-baked goodies. His mother never had been much on baking. Then again, his mother had never been much on getting out of bed. Just liked to lay there and shout at him to bring her a fresh bottle or a new pack of smokes or a light. Speaking of which…Snake Eyes patted his chest, feeling for his cigs. Time for a little after-dinner smoke and a drink.

Little Miss Priss didn’t keep anything stronger than a diet soda in her fridge and his flask was nearly empty. Absently, Snake Eyes wondered if he had time to make a run to the convenience store down the street before she got home. He shoved the empty baking pan out of his way and, feeling around in the dark, crawled to the stove, gripped the countertop, and hiked himself up. Swaying like a poplar in the autumn breeze, he squinted at the illuminated numbers on the clock and cursed them for swimming.

Six-fifty-nine.

Okay, okay. He did some calculations on his fingers. She’d be home by seven. He still had an hour. Damn, the time was dragging. Definitely time for a party run. He shoved off the counter and staggered toward the front door. Just as he reached out to yank on the knob, the sound of a key sliding into the lock and turning the tumblers had him recoiling in surprise.

She was an hour early?



Fifi’s crazed barking rang out and Emily paused to glance over at the excited animal before she pushed her front door open.

“Hey, Fifi.” Emily knew the animal was high-strung, but the past few days she’d been more agitated than usual. “What’s wrong, girl?”

Like a yo-yo on amphetamines, Fifi strained at her leash, leaping, barking, twisting and boinging about on the porch till Emily was sure her neck would snap.

“Fifi! Shadup!” Gruff voice leading, Fifi’s owner shuffled out onto her porch, still wearing her robe and slippers.

“Hello, Mrs. Flory,” Emily called.

“Oh, it’s you.”

“I think I scared Fifi.”

“Nah. She’s been like this all day. Ever since that bum showed up to fix the gutters over at your place.”

“My place?”

“Simmons didn’t tell ya?”

“No.” Emily felt the hairs at the nape of her neck rise.

Mrs. Flory harrumphed. “Figures. Well, anyway, I found this idiot up on a ladder, lookin’ into your place. Says he’s gonna fix the gutters, but that’s a laugh if you ask me. Rain don’t make it all the way down the roof to reach the damned gutters. Too many damned holes in the damned roof. Why the hayell they’re fixin’ the gutters first is beyond me.”

As Mrs. Flory nattered on, Emily took a deep, calming breath. It’s okay, she told herself. It was simply a handyman, here to repair the gutters. Heaven knew that the quaint old place could use an overhead overhaul. No use letting her anxiety get the better of her. When the curmudgeonly Mrs. Flory had finally run out of steam, Emily bid her good evening and slipped into her home.

Just inside the door, she flipped the light switch on and a solitary bulb in the foyer sent long, eerie shadows dancing across the walls and floor. Spooked, she spun and shut her front door, shot the bolt, secured the chain and twisted the lock on the doorknob. There. No one could get through that.

Nervous laughter bubbled past her lips and the hollow sound reverberated off the walls of the sparsely furnished apartment. She was being such a ninny. Even the evening shadows had taken on a menacing quality. What a boob.

Shucking out of her jacket, Emily tried to rid herself of the ever-present feeling she had of late that someone was watching her. Just nerves, she mentally chided herself. And was it any wonder? After what she’d been through, a few nerves were normal, she was sure.

But still…

Knowing that someone had been looking into her little home through the front window was unsettling.

It was cool in the house, so she decided not to put her jacket in the closet, and instead draped it over her shoulders. Heat cost a fortune and on her limited budget it was a luxury she could not afford. Rubbing at the gooseflesh that covered her arms, Emily moved to the window that overlooked her porch and peered out. Clouds flitted in front of the full moon, and there was a breeze that ruffled the branches of the giant oak tree in the yard and caused them to scrape against the side of the house. Scrape, scratch, scrape.

Head cocked, she grew very still and listened.

There was another sound. But what? She strained to hear, but it was elusive. Tingles skittered up her spine and her breathing became shallow.

Something was not right.

She could feel it in her gut.

It was the very same feeling of foreboding she’d experienced the night in her room, back in Prosperino. Rattled, Emily moved as quickly as possible through her tiny living room area and over to the kitchen to make a check of the premises. She would feel much better once she reassured herself that she was alone. That she was simply being silly. That there was nothing to fear and that she was safe here, in her little home, miles from Patsy and her hired thug.

The dim bulb of the lone hallway fixture cast just enough light for her to make out her kitchen. And the kitchen floor. And the baking pan that lay in the middle of the floor.

She stared at the empty pan as if it might leap up and strike.

What was that pan doing in the middle of her floor?

And why was it empty?

On her break that afternoon, she’d baked Toby lemon bars as a thank-you for checking up on her, and put them in the refrigerator to cool. Hadn’t she?

There was a clicking sound that Emily slowly realized came from her chattering teeth. Terror gripped her and she stood frozen to the spot. Someone had been in her house. Eating her food. No doubt going through her things.

The phone. The phone. She needed to get to the phone and call Toby. Yes. This was a good plan. If only she could move.

Woodenly, Emily forced herself to take the few steps needed to reach her phone. Backing into the shadows of her living room, she lifted the handset and with shaking fingers, punched in Toby’s cell number. He picked up on the first ring.

“Toby Atkins here.”

“Toby!” Hand cupping the mouthpiece, Emily’s voice was hushed and frantic.

“Yes? Emma?” His immediate concern bolstered her slightly, giving her the confidence she needed to remain upright.

“Toby, someone’s been in my place.” Her voice was high and tinny and it was all she could do to catch her breath. “They ate the lemon bars! The pan…the pan was on the floor! In the middle of the floor! Toby, I baked those for you, but they’re gone!”

“Slow down, honey. I’m having trouble understanding. Someone was in your house?”

“Yes!”

“Is he still there?”

Emily froze. Was he? There weren’t that many places to hide. Just the bathroom and that little closet by the front door. From where she stood, she glanced into the bathroom and didn’t see anything. But that didn’t mean she was alone. “I don’t know! Toby, you have to come over here! Now! Right now!”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Hurry! Oh, hurry.” Her teeth were now chattering so violently, her neck began to ache. Pulse roaring, Emily groped for the back of one of the plastic patio chairs she’d been using as living room furniture, to keep from falling down. “My n-neighbor told me that there had been a man here, to fix the gutters, and he was looking in my windows and now my lemon bars are gone. Why would someone steal my lemon bars?”

A muffled noise sounded from inside her hall closet and Emily swallowed a scream.

“Toby?” she whimpered.

“Yeah?”

“Ummm, uh, I think… He’s here. In the house. With me.”

“Can you get out of there?”

“He’s in the hall closet. Next to the front door. I don’t have a back door.”

“What the hell kind of apartment doesn’t have a back door?”

“A cheap one. I-I could jump out a window maybe. If I can get one open.”

She could hear the squeal of the sirens over the phone lines. “Emma? Stay on the line, honey. I’ll be there in a minute. Do you have a weapon?”

There was a sound, near the front door. Emily sucked in her breath and held it. Was he coming out?

“Emma?”

Emily clutched the phone, but for the life of her, she couldn’t speak. She stared hard at the closet door, and sure enough, it was slowly opening.

“Are you still there?”

She didn’t know if she was still there. The lone hall light began to sway, and the room, to spin. Her legs tingled and she wasn’t sure they were still touching the floor. Beads of sweat broke out on her upper lip and at the same time, she shivered. She couldn’t move her jaw to form the words to tell Toby that a man was indeed coming out of her hall closet.

The same man who’d chased her out of Prosperino just seven months ago.



Phone jammed between his shoulder and ear, Wyatt sat on the edge of his bed at The Faded Rose hotel and listened to the busy signal yet again. When he’d finished strapping on his watch, he checked it once more for the time. Emily had been on the blasted phone for nearly twenty minutes now. At least he had the satisfaction of knowing that she was home. Even so, he wanted to touch base with her and knew he couldn’t do it over at Annie’s without arousing her curiosity.

Feet up on the bed, Wyatt leaned back against his pillows and dropped the phone’s handset back into its cradle. He’d try again in a minute. His cheeks puffed as he emitted a heavy sigh. He hated keeping secrets from Annie. That had never been his style.

Back in college, he’d relished having that one person in whom he could confide everything. Annie never laughed at his dreams. His fears. She was always supportive and understanding. Until he’d blown it by not being there for her when she’d needed him the most.

But he’d learned his lesson. Big time.

Because of that lack of understanding, now, more than ever, he wanted to make sure that there was no miscommunication between them. They’d wasted far too many years, laboring under false assumptions.

Again, he glanced at his watch. If Emily didn’t answer soon, he was going to be late for dinner. Annie was expecting him. Her boys were expecting him. He couldn’t let any of them down. Picking up the phone, he decided he’d call Emily one last time. If she didn’t answer, he’d simply have to assume she was gabbing on the phone to a girlfriend, or maybe that Toby character, and had forgotten to check in with him. He punched in her number and waited.

Busy signal.

Wyatt hung up. Okay. He was outta here. He’d call Emily when he got home tonight. Snatching up his keys, he shrugged into his jacket and grabbed a couple of colorful kids’ books he’d bought for the boys.

Just as he was about to leave, the phone rang. Emily. It was about time. He crossed to the phone and lifting it to his ear barked, “Hey, gabby. Wha’d you do? Forget me?”

“Wyatt?”

Wyatt frowned. This was not Emily. Instinctively, he knew it was serious. “Uh, yeah?”

“Toby Atkins.”

Wyatt froze. “What? What’s wrong?”

“There’s been an attack. Emma needs you over at her place. As soon as you can get here.”



Annie stared in dismay at the coagulating spaghetti sauce, the rubbery noodles and the candles that had burned low and dripped wax on her best linen tablecloth. Wyatt was now officially two and a half hours late. She was torn between anger and worry, but the minute one would rise to the forefront, the other would take over.

She’d tried calling his room at the hotel, to no avail, left several messages, and finally gave up.

Maybe he forgot.

Maybe he didn’t.

Maybe he’d decided that all this reminiscing and apology stuff was getting a little too heavy for him, and he’d opted to bug out before he became any more deeply involved. With her. With her kids.

Annie propped her elbows on the table and cradled her head in her hands. Try as she might to believe this, she simply couldn’t. It simply didn’t ring true. Wyatt was not the kind of person who’d abandon her. Ever. Deep in her soul, she’d known this years ago. Deep down, she’d known that he still loved her. That even if he had dallied with another girl, that she, Annie, was his true love. And always would be.

But, back then, believing that he didn’t care anymore made it so much easier to stay here in Keyhole and help take care of her dying father. Made it easier to turn him loose and let him become everything he was so very capable of becoming. Without her, and her family, to hold him back.

Wispy tendrils of hair fluttering with her sigh, Annie pushed herself away from the table and began gathering the dishes. The boys had picked at their food, claiming that if Wyatt didn’t have to suffer through his spaghetti, then why should they? After a torturous meal spent bartering and cajoling and threatening, just to get a bite or two of food into their bellies, Annie excused them from the table to play in their rooms and wait for Wyatt.

Then, later, getting them into the tub, when they’d known he was going to show up and chase and toss and tickle them “any second, Mom! Give him a chance to get here!” was also a test of her parental mettle. Once they were scrubbed and dressed in Batman and Superman pajamas, she’d allowed them to sit up in bed and wait for Wyatt to arrive, so he could read them a story. After a solid hour of waiting, the boys had drifted off and Annie had removed the books from their arms and tucked them in.

For a long while, before returning downstairs to wait at the table, she’d stood in their doorway, watching them sleep and thinking that Wyatt had better have a pretty damned good excuse for letting them down.

Nine

The sound of a sharp knock at her front door, coupled with Chopper’s frenzied barking, woke Annie with a start. Pushing herself to a sitting position on the couch, she squinted at the clock and was shocked to note that it was after midnight. Who on earth…? Groggy, she wrapped an afghan around her shoulders, shuffled to the door and peeked through the leaded glass panels.

Wyatt?

“Chopper, hush!” Annie grabbed the dog by the collar and pulled him back behind her.

What in heaven’s name was Wyatt doing here at this hour? Suddenly, the haze began to lift and she remembered that she was furious with him. And, frantic with worry. She gave the bolt a vicious twist and yanked the door open, hoping the scowl she wore was enough to say it all.

That she was hurt.

That the boys were hurt.

That he could have at least called.

That was, until she noted the strain in his eyes. The tension in his posture. The way the tendons in his neck and jaw bunched. Something had happened. Something terrible. She could sense it in his despondent smile. Afraid to know, she closed her eyes against the visions she’d been entertaining all evening. Leftovers from the day Carl died.

He stepped inside and drew her into his embrace. He held her with a desperation that took her breath away. She coiled against him, and held him back, drinking in his warmth, his scent, his solid build, the steady beat of his heart.

Thank God, he was here. He was all right. That was all that mattered. As long as he was alive and well, she could deal with the rest. In that moment, all the wonder and worry about his feelings for her vanished, and instead Annie resigned herself to the fact that they’d picked up where they left off a decade ago. And they still had no future together.

After they’d held each other for a long, silent moment, Annie leaned away and looked at him. He was tired. World-weary. Afraid. She knew the feelings so very well. Taking his hand in hers, she drew him into her living room and tugged him down next to her on the couch. Because the room had taken on a bit of a chill, she offered him half of her afghan.

Finally, she summoned the courage to speak. “What happened?”

“My sister was attacked.”

Annie stiffened and her gaze flew to his. “What?”

Wyatt inhaled deeply, held it for a beat, then slowly released the breath through his lips. He gathered the afghan up over his shoulders, then reached for her hands and cradled them against his stomach. “When she came home from work tonight, there was a man waiting for her, in her apartment.”

“No! You’re kidding.”

“No.”

“Is she all right?”

“Physically, yes. Toby arrived in time to scare the creep off, but not before she’d been pretty badly traumatized.”

“Traumatized?”

“He didn’t rape her, but I get the feeling that it was on his agenda, among other things.”

“Oh, no. How awful.” Tears welled in her eyes and the back of her throat burned with a fear that radiated throughout her body. Annie suddenly felt violated, herself. “How could this happen here? Things like that just don’t happen in Keyhole.”

He drew her hands up to rest against his heartbeat. “Honey, I’m afraid they can happen anywhere these days.”

“Not here!” Her vehemence came from feelings of powerlessness as her illusions about the complete safety of this small town shattered. “No. That just can’t be right.”

A lump crowded into her throat and she blinked back the tears. That was one of the main reasons why she still lived here. Her boys were safe here. Nothing bad could happen to them if she stayed right here in Keyhole. Safe, old-fashioned Keyhole. An innocent town filled with innocent people. Crime was for cities. Big places, like the one where Wyatt lived.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against her temple as the tears rolled down her cheeks.