Читать книгу Safe Haven - Evelyn Crowe A. - Страница 8

CHAPTER THREE

LOGAN’S WORDS left her speechless. And just as she was picking her chin up off the floor, she caught a tiny glimmer of satisfaction on his face and a lingering impression that he was entirely too pleased with himself over her reaction. As if he was deliberately trying to shake her up. Well, he’d certainly succeeded.

Before she could recover enough to comment, Logan turned and left the kitchen. Had he meant what he’d said? Had he really been responsible for his wife and son’s deaths? The sound of the front door shutting noisily behind him snapped her from her reverie. She’d just seen a side to Logan Monahan she must never lose sight of. The man was nobody’s fool.

With the warning firmly implanted in her mind, Avery set to work cleaning the kitchen. The only sounds were of her own making. Sounds that were normal, everyday noises to anyone else, she treasured. Water running into the sink, the clink of dishes, the slap of the mop on the kitchen floor. Even the sound of her own humming.

When the kitchen was spotless, Avery stood back, admired her work and smiled. Who would have thought that in less than a year she could take so much pride in menial work? It certainly wasn’t something she’d ever excelled at before. Eight months didn’t seem like such a long time for so many changes, but for her it had been a lifetime. She’d learned a lot about herself and her abilities. She was stronger than she’d imagined. She was wiser, yes, but cynical and distrustful of everyone. And she’d come to realize she was a poor judge of people. But she was free and that was all that mattered—that and her job. She knew she’d do whatever it took to keep this job and her freedom.

The light housework gave her a chance to spend much of the morning roaming the big house, duster in hand, peeking behind closed doors, more mystified then ever by the lack of furnishings. All the upstairs bedrooms, except for Logan’s, were empty. The barren rooms made her uneasy. There was a sadness about them, and they made her shiver as if someone had walked over her grave.

Her inspection of Logan’s room told her little about the man other than he was neater than any male she’d ever known. Certainly tidier than her slovenly brother and even her fastidious father. Logan made his bed, picked up his clothes and placed them in the hamper. He even left the bathroom sink sparkling clean.

As she headed downstairs, she realized Logan Monahan didn’t really need anyone to take care of him. Then why was his father so insistent? A more disturbing thought was why had Logan agreed she could stay?

She worried at the edges of the question until something else struck her about what was missing in the house—the usual array of family photographs. The walls and dressertops were bare of pictures, nor were there any belongings or reminders of his wife or child. The house was as impersonal as a hotel. If he was responsible for their deaths, as he said, did that explain it somehow?

Don’t try to figure it out. Mind your own business and don’t get involved. She remembered the warning she’d given herself; she was prepared to follow it as if it was set in stone. With that thought in mind she continued with her morning work.

When she finally stepped into the office, her interest in working for Logan was stirred. Like yesterday, the desk was a chaos of papers, unopened letters and bills. Her eyes actually brightened at the overflowing boxes of files just waiting to be organized. At last her hungry gaze came to rest on the pillar of computer manuals perched rather precariously on the edge of the desk. Yes, she’d enjoy this work, and she’d be good at it.

She inhaled the scent of leather, stale coffee and books—all the essences an office should have. To her the scents were as intoxicating as French perfume. Once, not so long ago, her world had been centered in just such an office, a world of power and position, a world of people who looked up to her and listened to her advice as if she were a goddess. She caressed the top of the monitor as she rounded the desk, and didn’t even mind that her fingers came away dusty. Her heartbeat accelerated as she settled in the big leather chair, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Logan may not need her pitiful domestic talents, but he needed her office help.

The shrill ringing of the telephone jolted her upright. She’d been far away in a daydream of a happier time; she’d thought she could actually smell the leather of her executive chair. She’d have sworn she heard her secretary’s laughter and her father’s deep rumbling voice.

The phone shrilled again and reflexively she picked it up and said, “Yes, Margaret?” She caught herself, then said, “Monahan ranch.” The caller would think she was the village idiot. When there was no answering voice, she repeated her greeting.

Still nothing but silence. Just as she was about to hang up, she heard the distinct sound of fast breathing. She felt a creeping sensation, as if something clammy was crawling over her skin. Inexplicably, she knew this call wasn’t a childish prank, but something more insidious.

Nevertheless, she tried again. “This is the Monahan ranch. Who’s there?” She used an angry tone, hoping to banish her fear that someone already knew about her.

“Hang up.”

The male voice charged with authority didn’t come from the receiver but from the doorway, and three things happened at once. Avery gave an ear-piercing scream. The phone clattered to the floor. And as she jerked to her feet, she knocked the stack of computer books off the corner of the desk.

The stranger filling the doorway clamped his hands over his ears and backed away slightly. “Hey. I’m family.”

She took a few deep breaths to calm herself. “So do you usually just waltz in without knocking or letting anyone know you’re coming? You scared the living daylights out of me.” He looked a lot like her boss, but was taller—at least six-seven—and whereas Logan was solid and muscular, this man was lean and stringy. She eyed him warily.

“I’m Tanner, darlin’, Logan’s youngest brother. And I’ve never knocked before and don’t intend to start now. You must be Avery—the burr in Jessie’s craw, new grist for the gossip mill and the reason Dad’s walking around with a grin the Cheshire cat would envy. And yes, I use to play pro basketball.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“But you wanted to.”

“No,” she lied, “it never crossed my mind.” He was charming, handsome and obviously having entirely too much fun at her expense. Avery tried to keep him in her line of vision as she began picking up the fallen manuals. “You called yesterday, didn’t you.”

He nodded and grinned. “Yep. I was surprised when Logan the Bear didn’t answer.”

“Logan the Bear?”

Tanner laughed, a delicious sound of pure amusement. “You got it, sweetheart. He has other pet names—as do we all. But that’s for another day. You can see I’m harmless, though, so why don’t you stand up and let me get a good look at you?”

“Harmless” was not a term that fitted this man. His charm, she sensed, could be most dangerous. And where Logan’s eyes were light brown, Tanner’s were black, lively and full of mischief. Even though she had to bite her tongue to keep from asking a dozen questions, one slipped out. “Why did you order me to hang up?”

“It was an obscene call, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “No one said anything.” As she restacked the manuals on the desk, she continued to watch him, but he didn’t seem inclined to do more than drape himself in the doorway. “What makes you think the call was obscene?”

“You were angry. Your cheeks were on fire, and those big gray eyes were kind of iced over.” He straightened. “We’ve all gotten a few of those calls. It seems to go with the territory of being a main topic of conversation in this town. Don’t let them bother you. It’s just kids and their nonsense.”

Avery had always had a kind of radar for trouble. She didn’t know Tanner well enough to tell him her own feelings about the caller. She finished stacking the books, pretending not to see the way he looked her over, but she was painfully aware of the warmth that stained her cheeks. The absurdity of it almost made her smile. She’d blushed more in the past twenty-four hours than she had in the past five years, all brought on by Monahan men.

“Where’s Logan, by the way?” Tanner glanced at his watch. “It’s a bit early, but my stomach tells me it’s lunchtime.”

“Damn,” Avery said as she rounded the desk and almost knocked the books off again. “I forgot about lunch.” Tanner didn’t move and she was forced to stand and wait.

“Let me ring the barn,” Tanner said. “That’s where he spends most of his time—where he hides from the world.”

Tanner stepped around her, picked up the phone and punched in a number. He gave her a wink. “Don’t worry about lunch. I’ll fix it.” He stopped her protest by motioning for her to be silent. “Hey, Logan. How about coming up to the house? I’m starving.”

Tanner knew the kitchen far better than she did. She realized all too quickly she was only in his way. Finally, after they’d bumped into each other twice, he guided her to a chair and gently but firmly pushed her into it. All she could do was watch as he gathered items from the refrigerator and set to work. What Logan would think when he saw his brother taking over her duties, she couldn’t say. She decided the best thing to do, however, was keep her mouth shut and be still.

“Have you ever had a grilled cheese sandwich Texas-style?”

Avery shook her head, amused and a little miffed at just how efficiently Tanner moved around the kitchen.

“You’re in for a treat. Mind you, it’s not often I make these for anyone but Logan. So don’t get any ideas about making them yourself just because it’s my brother’s favorite meal.”

She grinned. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.”

She kept a straight face, though she had to work at it, as he pulled a loaf of bread from the freezer, then held it close to his body as if trying to keep Avery from seeing it. Then she realized why. He was thawing it just enough to separate the extra-thick slices.

Just as Tanner was carving slabs off a block of cheese, Logan walked in. Avery had been so captivated and amused by Tanner’s running dialogue about everything and nothing that she’d forgotten to keep her guard up. Logan’s eyes found hers and held her gaze for a long moment, as if searching for an answer to something. She was the first to look away.

Logan hung his Stetson on the hat rack, and his gaze shifted to Tanner, who was busy at the counter. “I see you’ve met Peewee.”

Avery felt more than saw Tanner bristle at the name, and didn’t know whether to move out of the way or laugh when he carelessly tossed a wrapped stick of butter at Logan.

Logan plucked the butter smoothly from the air, unwrapped it and handed it back to Tanner.

“I hope you’ve washed your hands,” Tanner said, then glanced at Avery, his black eyes dancing with laughter. “You do know that half the time a vet is up to his elbows in—”

“Mind your manners, little brother, at least until she knows you better.” Logan opened a cabinet, pulled out a blender, then looked at Avery. “We tend to make chocolate malts at lunchtime—especially for washing down Tanner’s clunkers—so you’d best get the vanilla ice cream out of the freezer. There’s a jar of malt in the pantry.”

And that was how it started—Logan and Tanner treating her as if they’d known her for years, sending her scurrying around the kitchen fetching, carrying and measuring while Tanner explained the highlights of his methods for making the “world’s best” Texas-style grilled cheese sandwiches. Logan, too, was diligent about explaining the art of concocting his “prizewinning” extra-thick malts. Of course, both explanations were going on at the same time, and any questions she might have asked were hopelessly lost in the cacophony.

At last the meal was ready. She picked up half of her monster sandwich and raised it to her mouth, then paused. The brothers waited, their amused gazes on her. She realized they were waiting for her praise. She eyed Tanner, then Logan over the top, deliberately stretching out the moment.

“I can feel my arteries clogging already.” she said.

Finally she took a bite. Logan and Tanner leaned forward as warm soft cheese oozed from the sides of the crispy-brown toast. Avery closed her eyes and slowly chewed. She swallowed and looked at Tanner. “Bigger is better,” she said with a smile. She meant it. The sandwich was wonderful.

“Now try the malt,” Logan urged.

She wiped her greasy fingers on her napkin, reached for the frosty glass and took a huge gulp. It was thick and entirely too cold. Immediately she paid for her gluttony, but even though a knife-sharp pain shot through her head, she grinned and managed a hoarse, “Heavenly.”

“Brain-freeze.” Logan laughed and picked up his own sandwich. “Happens every time.”

Avery hadn’t thought she could finish the sandwich. But not only did she clean her plate, she tilted her glass until every last drop was drained. With a sigh of contentment, she set the glass down, then realized Logan was staring at her. A flash of heat colored her cheeks.

Logan ignored the awkward moment and asked, “Have you tackled the office yet?”

Tanner butted in without giving her a chance to answer. “Avery had one of those calls.”

The smile died and Logan’s eyes hardened. “How bad was it?”

“She said—”

This time Avery cut him off. “I can speak for myself, thank you. And I never said it was an obscene call. You did. All I heard was breathing.” For some reason she couldn’t bring herself to tell Logan that the call made her uneasy.

“Well, just so you’re prepared, you’ll get a few. The whole family has. The calls run the gambit of heavy breathing to outright threats.”

“Have you reported them to the police?”

Logan and Tanner shared a hard look, then Logan said, “Ross Middleton is the sheriff of Haven. He was my wife’s brother. He’s not willing to give much credence or time to crank calls.”

“I wonder why,” Tanner said sarcastically. “I know, I know, you don’t want to discuss it.”

Avery was mystified. She watched as Tanner picked up his dirty dishes and dumped them in the sink. “I’m out of here, folks,” he said. “Thanks for lunch. Avery, it was good to meet you.” He opened the door, then stopped. “I’m bringing Molly over later, Logan. So don’t do one of your famous disappearing acts, okay?” He waved and left, leaving a growing silence behind.

Avery gazed around at the chaos in the kitchen with a sinking feeling. How had it happened? She’d been enjoying herself so much she’d forgotten to notice what a mess the two men had made.

“Did you make any headway in the office?”

“I was just about to start when your brother came in.”

Logan had been pleased to see that wounded look disappear from Avery’s eyes when he and Tanner had been cooking and generally acting silly. But now it was back, and it reminded him of an animal that couldn’t tell him where it hurt.

Cruelty in any form saddened him and made him angry. He’d devoted most of his life administering to defenseless creatures that had borne the brunt of human rage and brutality. Who had hurt her?

He was good at diagnosing what ailed his patients, good at figuring out the puzzles. Avery was a different matter, though. He’d have to find out about her pain another way.

Logan had not forgotten his parting remark that morning. He knew she must be wondering. “Why don’t I help you clear up this mess and we can talk? I’ll try to answer any questions you have.”

Avery realized she had a hundred questions, but none she was willing to risk asking. Stick to business, she reminded herself. The last thing she wanted or needed was to get involved in Logan’s life.

Together they carried the dirty dishes to the sink, and as she began filling the dishwasher, she noticed him watching her. His eyes no longer seemed distant. They had a gentle, knowing look, as if he perhaps saw far too much. An icy finger of unease ran down her spine. She wanted to keep her past to herself, hidden away so she’d never have to face the shame of what had happened to her.

Her nerves must have been more frayed than she’d thought, for unthinkingly she said the first thing that popped into her head. “Why is the house so empty? It’s obvious there was furniture. I mean, there are indentations in some of the rugs and I was...” Her voice trailed away. She couldn’t believe she’d actually asked.

Logan barely managed to keep from smiling. He was aware that she’d dropped her guard, but now it was back in place. She was obviously trying to ignore the way he was staring as she busied herself by filling the sink with soapy water to scrub the cast-iron skillet and the blender. He liked the way she moved, the sway of her hips, the graceful hand gestures.

He leaned his backside against the edge of the counter, crossed his arms over his chest and said, “All the missing furniture belonged to my wife, to Becky’s family. They’re heirlooms from Becky’s mother, who wanted them back after the accident. There wasn’t any reason to kick up a fuss. I never particularly cared for them in the first place. They always had a musty smell I disliked.”

“And there was no reason to replace them?”

“Not with just me living here.” He changed the subject to her. He still wanted to understand about her past. “I hope you called your family and let them know you arrived safely. Where did you say you were from?”

“Seattle. And I don’t have anyone there anymore. I called Denise last night.”

“Denise, the friend in Houston? The one who got you this job?” Logan glanced around the kitchen. “I don’t know if she did you a favor or not. Just wait until you tackle the office.” He was intrigued by her smile, as if her lips were unused to the movement.

Avery found that the turn the conversation had taken was making her edgy, so she headed off any further questions with another of her own. “I thought from what you said yesterday that you no longer had a practice, but from what I saw in the office, you seem to be in business.”

“Confusing, isn’t it. There’s a saying in my work—once a veterinarian, always a veterinarian. It’s true. I have patients I’ve treated for years. Their owners aren’t willing to go to anyone else, even my brother. They refuse to let me retire and they call here day and night.”

“And you don’t turn them down, do you,” she said softly. Warmth coursed through her. Maybe the world did have people you could believe in. For all Logan’s initial indifference and the aura of mystery, he was a caring, sensitive man. Then the warm feeling cooled. What did she know about people? Hadn’t she learned, the hard way, that her judgment couldn’t be trusted?

He watched her attack the dirty skillet with zeal and a wire scrub brush. Her abrupt silence baffled him. He waited for Avery’s next question, because weren’t women, in general, notorious truth seekers? Secrets drove them nuts and led to a cross-examination worthy of the CIA. But Avery didn’t fit that mold, seemed loath to put a voice to her curiosity.

All of a sudden, he understood. Conversation, with questions and answers, was a two-way street. By asking, she would leave herself open to being quizzed. That was the last thing she wanted.

As Avery scrubbed, unaware of Logan’s thoughts, she allowed herself to dream a little, to slip back into familiar territory. “You’ll need me to set up your books as a small-business venture,” she said. “And of course you’ll want invoicing and billing. What about inventory? I mean, you use supplies and stuff, right?” She didn’t have a clue what a veterinarian required, but figured his needs were closely in line with those of a medical doctor. A vet was a doctor, after all. “And you’ll need tax depreciation on your equipment. Oh, and a profit-and-loss statement.”

She turned her head and looked at Logan. Omigod. Had she said too much, given something away?

“That sounds about right to me.” Logan’s suspicions were confirmed. She was well educated. Laypeople didn’t throw around terms like profit-and-loss statements and tax depreciation.

But Avery, excited by the prospect of getting involved in something she loved, forgot about discretion. Just as she started to tell Logan some of her plans, the kitchen door swung open. Hair flying, hands full of paper sacks, voice loud and laughing, Jessie Middleton blew into the kitchen like a whirlwind. She was scantily dressed in short shorts and a tank top that left little to the imagination.

The fact that she was being ignored made Avery bite her lip. Obviously Jessie thought that by pretending not to see the interloper, Avery would simply disappear. Well, Jessie was in for a shock. Bad manners didn’t faze Avery in the least. The less she was lured into this family and its problems, the better off she’d be. But becoming invisible didn’t seem to work with Logan. He was standing directly behind her, and as she started to move away, he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

Jessie kept her gaze on Logan’s face as she began pulling plastic containers from one of the bags. “I brought lunch. Your favorites, Logan. I talked Louise into making chili. She used Becky’s recipe.” She darted a cutting look at Avery. “You always said Becky was the best cook in the world and her chili was worth its weight in gold—” she giggled “—or did you say it was worth its weight in hot peppers? Anyway, I thought it would be a treat. Do you have any beer? Oh, and I stopped off at the café just in time. Maebell was taking blackberry cobblers out of the oven. You know how stingy she is about using her stockpile of fresh berries, but when I told her it was for you, well, she couldn’t say no. She never forgot how much Jamie and you loved her cobblers, and the blackberry was his very favorite in the whole world. You ought to stop by the café. Logan. She misses Jamie like we all do.”

Jessie juggled the deep-dish cobbler pan like a hot potato, then quickly set it on the table. “I’ll get the plates,” she said.

“I’m sorry, Jess,” he answered, his apology laced with kindness, “but we’ve eaten.” He made an effort to continue to smile. The mention of his son opened that deep hole in his heart again, like a fresh wound. He tightened his grip on Avery’s shoulder.

“But, Logan, it’s not even twelve-thirty yet! You never eat before twelve-thirty.”

“Tanner stopped by and made sandwiches for us.”

“Grilled cheese?” Jessie asked. “He fixed his grilled cheese sandwiches?” Her gaze swung to Avery, as if to confirm her worst fears, then back to Logan. “And you made malts?”

Apparently Logan had hurt her feelings. He walked over to Jessie, slipped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a brotherly hug. “It was thoughtful of you to go to so much trouble and I appreciate it, Jess, really I do. But you should have checked first, honey.”

“I never had to check before.”

“How about storing this stuff in the fridge and I’ll eat it tonight?”

It didn’t take a genius to realize that as sure as the sun rose every morning, Jessie was going to blame her, Avery, for Logan’s rejection. Avery had a feeling she was being dragged into something and she should turn tail and run as fast as possible. But where would she go?

Jessie threw barbed glances, full of loathing, at her as she pitched the food containers into the refrigerator and slammed the door. “I’ll help you groom the horses, then.”

Logan smiled and shook his head, “Thanks for offering, kitten, but the boys are here today. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be in San Antonio this week making arrangements for Fiesta?” He glanced at Avery to explain. “Fiesta San Antonio is a big celebration held every year. And Jess is one of the duchesses.”

Before Avery could comment on that, Jessie stormed out of the house, slamming the kitchen door. “She’s in love with you, you know,” Avery said instead.

“Nonsense. Jess is like a kid sister. Hell, she was a kid when Becky and I married. She spent more time here than with her parents in San Antonio.” Avery’s statement seemed to give him pause. “Okay, she’s always had a schoolgirl crush on me, and she’s just overprotective since Becky’s death. I think she feels a need to take care of me. I just wish this possessiveness would run its course and she’d direct all those pent-up feelings toward someone else.”

Men could be so dense sometimes, Avery thought. Or maybe he wasn’t all that blind. She remembered, when she’d first arrived and again just a few moments ago, he’d used her like a shield against Jessie’s advances. She sensed Logan was a man with too many problems on his plate and didn’t know how to deal with them all at once. She certainly wasn’t about to add to his troubles. “She’s a little old for a schoolgirl crush, Logan.”

Big mouth. What happened to her promise to keep her opinions to herself?

“She’s immature and I feel sorry for her. She worshiped Becky, and my wife was the only Middleton who took much notice of Jess or who could handle her wildness. I think Jess has latched on to me as a way to deal with her grief. It’ll pass with time.”

Wildness was only one word Avery would use to describe Jessie. Others came more to mind, such as spoiled and disturbed. She recognized the signs and knew all too well where the young woman was headed if she didn’t get some help. Avery could have told Logan a few things about the pitfalls of sticking his head in the sand. She’d done the same with her father and brother. Look what it had cost her.

“Your guilt won’t do her any good, Logan.”

“That sounds like the voice of experience.”

“I see a lot of my brother in Jessie. I wish someone had recognized the signs.” When she realized her slip, her hands shook. Avery quickly busied herself by drying the heavy cast-iron skillet.

He knew the second she withdrew back into herself, and he sighed. Hell, he had enough worries of his own. Taking on a stranger’s problems was beyond him. “You know, Avery, you can’t run forever. Believe me, I’ve tried, and I promise you it’ll catch up with you. If you’re in some sort of trouble, I might be able to help.”

She turned, ready to deny that she needed anyone, much less his assistance. Their eyes met and held, and the words caught in her throat. At an earlier time in her life she would have been thrilled to have a man look at her the way Logan looked at her. Things were different now, though. She couldn’t afford to believe in anyone, much less trust herself.

Logan didn’t look away from the shifting emotions in Avery’s lovely gray eyes. Having a good-looking, desirable woman underfoot perhaps wasn’t such a good idea, he mused. After all, he’d only agreed to the crazy scheme to shut his father up and keep him from interfering any further in his life, but that was before Logan had felt the novelty of desire zing through his veins. He halfheartedly cursed himself for being weak. “Whatever you’re running from, Haven’s the right place to get lost. Nothing much happens here.”

Suddenly the kitchen door slammed open against the wall and a lanky teenage boy, arms waving like flags, eyes round with fear, skidded to a stop just inside. “Doc, come quick! Something’s wrong with the horses. They’re all really sick.”

“If this is one of your jokes, Benton, so help me...” But Logan was moving, and his threat lacked any anger as he saw how pale and scared the boy was. He grabbed his hat, then turned to Avery. “How are you around horses?”

“I don’t know. Except for yesterday, the closest I’ve ever been to one was the television.”

Her answer made him give a quick bark of laughter. He motioned for her to join him. “I might need you.”

The thought of being needed, even wanted, was all the impetus Avery required. She took off after Logan.