Jace held his breath, both angry and hurt. He had no right to be, had promised himself not to read anything into tonight, but his heart wouldn’t listen.
He’d believed Kitty cared for him and had even entertained the insane hope that he could find a way to hide his past from her forever.
Lacquer fumes must have gone to his head.
Kitty puffed out a hard breath. “Jace, I—” She huffed again. “I don’t know what to do sometimes. Could we talk about this?”
He pointed toward the cinnamon bun vendor. A half-dozen picnic tables had been set up around the popular booth. “Let’s grab a roll and sit down.”
After buying the rolls and coffee, they chose an unoccupied table and sat. He didn’t hold out much hope that they would be alone for long, but this would do for starters.
With the smell of cinnamon and hot butter driving him crazier than he already was, he said, “They don’t approve.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” She tore off a chunk of the warm bread and fiddled with it. “Trina and Chuck love me. I love them. I don’t want them hurt.”
All right, he was a man. He could handle her rejection here and now. He’d been expecting her to come to her senses, and it was only fitting the rejection should come tonight. If she chose a dead man’s memory over him, so be it. He would go back to where he’d been before he’d loved her. He’d be safe again and never have to worry about her finding out the truth. Short-term pain was easier than her knowing.
“They’ve lost a lot,” he said. “They deserve your affection.”
“That’s the thing, see?” Troubled, she twisted the chunk of roll. “They lost the most important person in their lives, and I’m their last link to Dave. Since his death, I’ve carried the torch, so to speak.”
“I thought you wanted to.”
“I did. I loved Dave, Jace. He was this town’s hero. He was my hero, and keeping his memory fresh and alive has been an honor. I’ve loved every trinket I’ve painted, every eagle pencil I’ve sold, every photo or poster hanging in my office.”
The stab he’d expected at her admission of love for Dave didn’t transpire. Instead, he was proud of her. Doing the right thing was Kitty’s way and one of the reasons Jace had fallen in love with her. Besides, how could a man be jealous of a dead hero?
“He deserved that.”
“Yes, he did.” She fidgeted, put the roll down, picked the coffee up but set it down, too. Jace remained silent, aware that all he could do was listen. The ball really was in her court.
“I’m thirty-one years old and all of a sudden the rest of my life seems too long to be a widow. I don’t know what happened to me. I used to be content with my motel and my memories.” She lifted tormented blue eyes to his. “Am I terrible for wanting to spend time with you?”
The rhythm of his heartbeat changed. Dread lifted. Suddenly, he could breathe again.
“I hope not.” He was terrible for wanting to be with her, but she could never be anything but wonderful. “You’ve been good to them, Kitty. You always will be. That’s who you are, but you have to decide how to spend your life. You can’t let someone else decide.”
“That’s what everyone says.”
“What matters is what you say.”
Her smile returned. She drew in a breath that lifted the leg-of-mutton shoulders of her Victorian dress. The satiny blue material rustled. “Then I say we finish these rolls and do what we came here to do.”
“And what was that?”
“Have some fun.”
He wasn’t about to argue.
The rest of the evening was a dream Jace would remember the rest of his life. He was with the woman he loved and she seemed happy to be with him. Amidst the noise and bustle, the music and food Jace did everything he could to insure she had a good time. He bought her cotton candy and had their picture taken in an Old West setting. He stood behind, one hand on her shoulder and tried to look serious, although Kitty said something silly and he laughed. She sat in front, her skirt fluffed around her, flirtatiously waving her fan. He’d paid sixty dollars to capture a moment he would treasure forever.
Later, with guns blazing, he’d come to the rescue when a band of mock outlaws rushed the crowded bandstand and took “the widow woman” captive. He rode the colorful, light-festooned Ferris wheel and showed her the whole of Redemption from the top. She’d squealed and gripped his arm in a display of playful terror. They even tried a turn at square dancing, laughing hard to discover neither had a lick of rhythm.
By the time he took her home, physically weary but emotionally full, midnight approached.
“Want to come in?” Kitty asked when he took her key and opened the door.
“Better not. It’s late.”
“Okay.”
Yet, they lingered in the open doorway, with the soft yellow light from inside bathing them in a shadowy glow. She, a respected lady in her rustling blue dress and he in outlaw gear seemed ironically appropriate.
“Jace.” She reached for his hand.
“What?” Her fingers curled in his, small and cool.
“I was just thinking.”
He tilted his head. “About?”
“You. Me. Us.”
“Is there an us?”
Her teeth caught her bottom lip, her blue eyes large as she nodded. “I think so. Don’t you?”
“Yes.” Despite the warnings clanging in his head, he couldn’t resist. He’d been too long without love in his life. Too long since anyone cared for him on a personal level. A man could be thirsty only so long.
Head down, she played with his fingers, opening and closing each one. “You don’t sound too happy.”
“I don’t deserve someone like you.” He forced a smile. “You’re the most special woman I’ve ever known.”
“Oh, Jace,” she murmured on a sigh. “I’m scared and happy and—”
“I feel the same.” For different reasons.
“Being with you is—” She dropped his hand, clutched a fist to her heart. “Like I can breathe again. Like I’m alive again.”
“I know.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I know.”
“I was thinking…”
His lips curved. “About?”
“Maybe you should kiss me.”
His heart jumped but he teased, “Is that all you think about?”
Laughing softly, she tiptoed up, slid her arms around his neck, and rocked his world. “I’m falling in love with you.”
And then she kissed him.
Jace arrived home, his head reeling. Hope and fear and wonder flowed through him like shock waves. Tonight was the best night of his life. Kitty was falling in love with him.
He removed his Old West gear and hung the costume neatly in the closet. Maybe he’d wear the rig again next year with Kitty at his side.
She loved him.
His heart had almost burst out of his chest when she’d said those words. He’d pulled her close and breathed in her soft rose scent, thanking God and fighting the inner demons that threatened everything.
Anything he did now would hurt her. If he walked away without an explanation, she’d be hurt. If he told her the truth, she’d be hurt. Which was the lesser of the evils?
He closed his eyes, head back, hands on his hips. “Lord Jesus, what do I do now?”
Milo heard him and lifted his head from the foot of the air mattress. The dog made small wrinkles on the otherwise perfectly made bed.
“Hey, little buddy. Just talking to God here. Go back to sleep.”
As if the pup understood, he snuggled into the sheets and closed his eyes.
Jace stripped off his shirt and wadded it into a ball, which he aimed toward the laundry basket in the corner of the bare room. He needed some furniture.
Still vacillating between worry and wonder, he didn’t hear the footsteps coming down the hall. The first indication that he was no longer alone came with the sound of Ned’s horrified voice.
“Dude.” The word was a stunned breath. “What happened to you?”
Jace whipped around with the speed of light, grappling for the discarded shirt behind him. “What are you doing in here?”
“I found something in Donny’s room, I—” Ned gulped, eyes wide as he stared at Jace in horrified curiosity. “Man, I never seen nothing like that. Somebody slice you up?”
Jace knew what the teen had seen. The lattice work of keloid scars on his shoulder, side and back still made him flinch. He couldn’t imagine how revolting the scars looked to someone else.
He shoved his arms into the retrieved shirt, yanked the front together and buttoned it. His fingers shook, infuriating him. What right did Ned have to come inside this room without warning? And why hadn’t he shut the door? The last time he’d seen either of his houseguests, they’d still been at the park.
“You keep this to yourself. A man’s got a right to privacy.”
Ned took the offensive. “Like, who am I gonna tell?”
They glared at each other for two beats before Ned shrugged again. “I’m going to bed.”
He spun away, hurt and anger flowing from him like heat.
“Wait.”
Ned paused in the doorway but didn’t turn. “I don’t want to impose on your precious privacy.”
The sarcastic tone belied his hurt.
Jace blew out a shaky breath. God, what a mess.
“You couldn’t know. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Ned slowly turned, hovered, half boy, half adult, not worldly wise enough to know what to say. Jace felt like a jerk. The only person he’d been concerned about was himself.
“I’m oversensitive about the—scars. No big deal. Forget it.” Please forget it. Forget you came in here. Forget what you saw.
“So you gonna tell me what happened?”
So much for forgetting.
He’d never told a soul, never discussed the incident with anyone after the fact. But here stood Ned, needy and curious and concerned. He’d already seen. He might as well know.
“Just between me and you?”
“That bad?”
“Worse.”
“I ain’t talking. You can count on me.”
He knew that. In the time since Ned had come into his life, the surly, troubled kid had shown his true colors in the workshop. Some people would call him crazy, but Jace trusted Ned implicitly. He, more than anyone, knew the boy had changed.
“Want some coffee or something?”
“Nah, too late.”
“Pull up a corner of my mattress and I’ll tell you a bedtime story guaranteed to give you nightmares. It does me.”
Ned snorted but joined Jace on the edge of the air bed. He rested his elbows on his tall, jean-clad knees and let his hands dangle. He was still a bundle of self-consciousness, unsure of what to do with all those arms and legs.
“You ever done anything you wished you could take back?”
Ned slanted a glance at him. “I been busted twice. What do you think?”
Jace chuffed softly. “Me, too. More than twice.”
“You? No way. You’re a Jesus dude.”
“Jesus is the reason I’m still breathing. Jesus and a man named Gary who saw something worth saving in a kid with a bad attitude. No one could tell me anything. I got involved with a gang. The badder I was, the bigger man I was.”
“Yeah, I know about that stuff. It’s a crock.”
Yes, the boy had come a long way.
“I wish I’d been half as smart as you are, but I wasn’t. I got busted big time. Armed robbery. Being barely eighteen, everyone said I would walk. I didn’t.”
“No kidding? Man, that stinks. How long?”
“Three years.”
Ned whistled through his teeth. “Brutal.”
The kid had no idea how brutal.
Milo, disturbed by the whistle, inched forward and flopped his head on Jace’s thigh. He rubbed the soft ears, taking comfort in the sweetness of the puppy.
“Prison’s a lousy place, especially for the young and halfway decent-looking. I was scared to death.” He didn’t want to go into detail but Ned was smart enough to figure out the rest. A teenager in a prison full of hardened criminals was a target.
“That where you got cut up?”
“Everyone was in a gang in prison. Everyone. A few other younger guys and me banded together for protection. We tried to outbad the bad. Wrong move. I made enemies of some bad people.”
“They jumped you?”
“In the shower.” He shuddered at the memory of a hand grabbing his hair, yanking him back with a cruel grunt of laughter. He’d whirled around, fists flying. He’d seen the homemade knife flash and warded off the first few jabs, though his hands had been sliced. He glanced down at them now, saw the scars others blamed on working with saws. He’d always let them believe what they wanted.
“One had a knife. I fought like a tiger until three of them slammed me onto the concrete.” His voice faded. Milo opened one eye, eyebrow arched. “They held me down, stood on my hands so I couldn’t fight. Torres sat on my back, held my head. I knew I was a dead man.”
Memories flashed behind his eyes of his own red blood swirling down the drain as water beat from the showers and Torres sliced him into hamburger meat. He never knew if he’d screamed or cried but he recalled Torres’s laugh, cruel and triumphant. And he remembered the starbursts of agony.
“What happened?”
“I must have passed out because I don’t remember any of this, but apparently Donny was passing the showers, heard something and alerted the guards.” He scrubbed both hands over his face. “Next day I woke up in the hospital with about a million stitches in my body. The wounds got infected. The scars turned ugly. But I survived, thanks to Donny.”
“Now I get why you let him hang around.”
“Wouldn’t you? He saved my worthless life.”
“That’s why you let me work for you, too, isn’t it? I mean, you know.” He studied his long hands. “I was on the same path as you.”
Jace liked hearing Ned use the past tense. He’d done plenty of praying that this kid would not end up the way he had. “Partly. I needed your help, too.”
“I get that. Tonight was cool.” He rocked a little, showing his pleasure in the night’s events. “We did good.”
“Yeah, we did.”
“What did Miss Wainright think of my horse?” His expression was eager but uncertain. Ned needed lots of positive input but he was gaining ground.
“She cried.”
He tossed his hair to one side. “Sweet.”
Jace chuckled. Remembering the carousel made him feel less worthless. “You like making ladies cry?”
Ned hiked a shoulder, grinning, the once surly eyes alight. “Maybe. So, you in love with her, or what?”
All the air rushed out of Jace. How did the conversation turn from the miserable topic of prison to the exhilarating, uncomfortable topic of love?
“Yeah, wise guy. I am.” Jace punched Ned lightly on the knee. “Keep that to yourself, too.”
“Come on, man. She’s gotta know. A woman like that, all sweet and nice. You can’t let her get away.”
Jace dropped his head. “I got a record, Ned. She’s a hero’s widow.”
Ned shifted around, pinned him with a stare. “You think that matters to her?”
Heaviness settled in Jace’s chest. “It should. She deserves better.”
“Dude, I don’t know. Don’t seem right. What are you going to do?”
“Same thing I’ve always done. Nothing.” But could he go back to nothing now? After what she’d said to him tonight?
“What about her? Don’t she get a say?”
“Think about what I just told you, Ned. Do you think I want her to know the truth about me?”
“But you ain’t that man anymore. You’re—” His shoulders went up. “You’re a good guy. Everyone likes you.”
“They like who they think I am. A man’s reputation is a fragile thing. Takes years to build. Seconds to destroy. I can’t chance it.”
“All right. I get what you’re saying. But why’d you tell me all this?”
He wasn’t really sure. Maybe he’d simply needed to tell someone. And Ned had seen the scars. He’d asked.
“I don’t trust very many people. But I trust you.”
“I won’t let you down.”
“I know that.”
Ned suddenly jerked as if he’d been shocked and then leaped to his feet. “Dude, I nearly forgot. I gotta talk to you about something.”
Jace’s heart plummeted. After all this talk, was the kid in trouble again?
He returned the sleeping puppy to his favorite spot and stood, too. Ned was pacing, clearly agitated.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen at the festival?”
“No, nothing like that.” He fidgeted, glanced out the opened door and back again. “Well, see, when I got home, I thought Donny was here. I went in his room to tell him something and—” He hesitated, eyes sliding away to look at the sleeping puppy. “Don’t get mad, but when he wasn’t there, I kind of nosed around.”
What could he say? He’d done the same.
“And?”
“His computer was on. I kinda looked at his files.”
“Kinda?”
“I know. I shouldn’t have but sometimes I don’t trust him much.”
“We have that in common. I don’t always trust him either. But he saved my life.”
“Well, that’s the thing. We shouldn’t trust him. He’s up to something, Jace.”
Jace tensed, on full alert, his fears tumbling in like a landslide. “Like what?”
“I’m no businessman, but it looks like shady dealings. Want to look for yourself?”
As if he had a choice. “You don’t open a can of worms and then walk away.”
Jace followed Ned to Donny’s bedroom, leery of what he would find. The room was messy, something that bothered Jace enough to stay out of it. Donny’s laptop was closed but the light indicated the power was on. Ned opened the lid and tapped the finger pad, then scrolled through files, opening several.
Jace bent over the screen, watching. “You looked at all these?”
Shamefaced, Ned nodded, but made no excuse. “Look at this one. That’s Miss Wainright’s name and information and something about the motel’s assets and tax returns.”
Jace went on red alert, reading rapidly. If Kitty had invested with Donny, she’d never mentioned the fact to him. The papers were legal documents with land descriptions and loan information and gross assets—Kitty’s. There was other business mumbo jumbo that he didn’t begin to comprehend. The file that worried him most was a spreadsheet.
“There’s a whole list of names here. With stars and numbers by several. Wonder what it means?”
“You got me. Maybe it’s legit.”
“Maybe.” But Jace was taking no chances. That was Kitty’s information in there. “Can you run this off or email it to my computer without Donny knowing?”
Ned grinned and wiggled his fingers. “What do you think? Let me at that keyboard.”
In seconds, four files had been emailed to Jace’s computer. He didn’t know what any of them meant. Maybe nothing at all, but he wanted a good long look without the worry of Donny walking in.
“Put everything back the way it was. If he’s up to something, I don’t want him to get suspicious.”
“Just like on TV.”
Jace grunted. TV wasn’t near as scary as reality.