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He hesitated. “Not right now,” he said finally.
She didn’t push. There was nothing else to say except, “I’m glad you’re home.”
It was as if someone had turned off a switch inside him. “This isn’t home,” he said.
“It isn’t? You have another house somewhere?”
“No. This is the only house I own, but it’s just a house. It’s a tax deduction, and privacy when I need to be in town. If it weren’t for my family, I would never have bought the place, any place. I travel light.”
“I do, too, as a matter of practicality, not choice. You and my parents would get along really well.”
There was a long pause. “I imagine I’ll find that out for myself sometime in the future.”
She pictured him meeting her parents. The only thing they had in common with Jake was traveling light. He was serious and controlled. Her parents were…neither. They were good people, though, kind and selfless.
Keri looked around her, patting the chair arms several times, wondering where to take the conversation next. “This feels like a home to me. You have mementos. Pictures. It’s furnished and decorated.”
“My sister Cher insisted. She always was bossy. Comes from being the firstborn, I think.”
Keri was glad to see him finally smile. “I like all your sisters.”
“Me, too.” He pushed away from the railing. “Minestrone, you said?”
“And chicken. Salad. Sourdough bread.” She extended her arms. “Would you give me a hand up, please?”
He hadn’t allowed enough space between them, so her belly bumped him. He took a quick step back.
“I know it’s a shock,” she said hesitantly.
“I should’ve known something was up, given Donovan’s conversation during the drive here. You know he’s a journalist, right? I’m used to him asking questions. He always had an insatiable curiosity, that stereotypical “why? why? why?” kid. But he was pushing for more information about the kidnapping today, instead of the job I’ve been doing that took me out of touch.”
“You mean you hadn’t told him about us being kidnapped?” She remembered back to the time when she first met Donovan in the diner, and the cold, hard look he’d given her when he found out who she was. She figured Jake had clued him in.
“I did, but I didn’t tell him your name.”
“He came to his own conclusions, then. I’ve only seen him once since Christmas. He came home for a wedding. Noah Falcon?”
Jake looked surprised. “Noah got married? That’s great. I was here for his brother David’s wedding in November.”
“Their other brother, Gideon, got married, too. He and his wife are expecting. So are David and his wife.”
Jake followed her into the house. “So the Falcon brothers are off the market. That was a long time coming.”
“Not as long as for the McCoy brothers,” she said, keeping her tone light, glancing behind her.
He shrugged. “I suppose it’s a record that’ll hold for a while longer. Unless Joe comes to his senses about Dixie.”
The fact that he didn’t even consider he might get married himself cut into Keri like a knife. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but she’d thought it would at least be something he’d think about. As she had.
That’s what she got for having expectations. They almost always turned out different from reality.
And if Jake wondered why she hardly said a word to him the rest of the evening, he didn’t ask.
Chapter Three
Jake watched Keri keep herself busy all evening. When he wouldn’t let her heat up his soup, she disappeared into his office and began going through the stacks of baby items, coming out with tiny clothes and blankets to put in the washer, apparently a requirement before letting a baby’s skin come in contact with them. Then she sat at the dining room table to write thank-you notes. They hadn’t spoken, unless out of necessity, since he’d come indoors.
He’d probably said something that bothered her, but he didn’t know what—and she wasn’t talking.
Anyway, he was ready to be alone, and it didn’t look like she was headed to bed anytime soon.
He’d channel surfed the television stations as much as he could stand it, sometimes paying attention for a while, sometimes zoning out, the volume not up loud enough to intrude into his thoughts if he didn’t want it to. Sometimes he watched Keri as she made her way to and from the laundry room, her belly a constant reminder of the time they’d shared, and the unknowns of the future.
Donovan would probably insist they get a DNA test, as Keri had offered, to make sure the baby was Jake’s, but he didn’t doubt her. She may have defied him—with what she considered good reason—but she hadn’t ever lied, even when it made her look bad.
“You can have the bedroom,” he said when he saw her finally yawn and stretch. It was almost eleven o’clock.
“Of course I won’t do that. You need good rest. I’ll be fine on the couch.” She stacked her thank-you notes neatly, set her pen precisely beside them and came into the living room space.
“You’ll take the bedroom,” he repeated, an order this time. He needed to be able to move around, not feel hemmed in. To be able to go outdoors if he wanted.
She sat on the coffee table, facing him, their knees almost touching. “Do you need to be alone?”
“Yes.”
“All you have to do is tell me, Jake—whatever it is you need. I can’t anticipate it. Please just be direct. It’ll save us both a lot of grief and confusion.”
“All right.” Would she do the same?
She headed out of the room but turned around when she reached the hall. “I usually have to get up a couple of times during the night,” she said, gesturing toward the only bathroom in the house.
He wasn’t sure why she was telling him that. “Do you need a light kept on?”
“No. I just didn’t want to startle you.”
“I appreciate the warning. I’ll keep my boxers on so I don’t startle you.”
She laughed, the pitch almost hurting his ears. He realized he hadn’t heard her laugh before. It was a good sound, a healthy one. After months of hearing only men’s voices, men who spoke only Spanish, her laugh seemed musical.
She grinned. “Feel free to be comfortable, whatever that means to you.”
“And since you’ve already seen it all…”
“That’s not true,” she said softly. “It was dark. I only…felt.”
A heavy curtain of silence dropped between them, the moment of humor gone because of a memory that could never fade. A child would be born of it.
He’d only felt, too—Keri’s long, lean body and firm breasts and smooth rear. Her mouth—God, her mouth.
As if she heard his thoughts, she pressed her fingers to her lips. He stared.
“Good night, Jake,” she said, a little breathless, then hurried down the hall.
He didn’t expect to sleep. Earlier he’d fallen asleep instantly in his own bed, but it was dark now, and quiet. No sounds of men snoring, or shouting as they slept. No witnessing violence done to others, unable to stop it without blowing his cover. He’d had to keep the bigger picture in mind.
He wished he could snap his fingers and have the memories disappear. Instead they held court in his head. After hours of pacing and prowling, he dropped onto the sofa and turned off the television, stretching out, still fully dressed, and tucking a small pillow under his head. He shoved his fingers through his hair. He needed to get it cut, take away yet another reminder of where he‘d been.
He closed his eyes but still saw too much. He probably should take the sleeping pills Donovan had gotten from Doc Saxon for him—except he needed to be able to hear the sounds around him.
He jolted as he heard a door open, then realized it was Keri. Light from the bedroom spilled into the hallway enough that he could see her glance toward the living room as she crossed to the bathroom on a whisper of sound. When she came out, she headed toward him instead of the bedroom. He closed his eyes. The last thing he wanted was to talk.
But after a few seconds he felt something being laid over him—an afghan Nana Mae had crocheted for him one Christmas. He usually kept it on the back of an overstuffed chair.
Jake felt the warmth of the blanket even before she turned away. It smelled…clean.
“Keri.” He propped himself up on an elbow.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Did I wake you?”
“I was awake. Be glad I was.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“It’s risky, okay?”
“What? To touch you? I didn’t touch you.”
“The blanket did. Just don’t do it. For your own sake.”
“All right.”
“Have you slept?” he asked.
“Mostly, yes.”
“Even though you’re in a new place with a man you barely know and are about to give birth?”
“I’ve had nightmares for months. Tonight I didn’t.” She gave a little wave and left.
Nightmares. Were hers anything like his? Did she wake up swinging?
Unable to fall asleep, he turned on the television again, settling on a rerun of Friends. He must’ve slept a little, but as soon as the sky lightened, he grabbed his car keys and left the house, needing to get out where he could breathe. Needing not to talk to Keri until he’d given more thought to their situation, wanting to reconcile his memory of her and how he’d clung to it all this time, with the facts before him—that she was here in his hometown. And pregnant.
Primal, protective instincts were overtaking him. He needed to think more logically about everything. Which meant not making small talk first thing this morning.
He drove without a destination, then ended up at Joe’s place. Donovan would be bunking with their youngest brother.
Jake pulled up beside the house, one Joe had shared with Dixie for the better part of ten years, on and off. Off again now, though. Jake didn’t mind waking Joe up, but he would’ve thought twice about dropping in so early had Dixie still cohabited.
Joe was already up, however, walking through his garden, a mug of coffee in hand as he deadheaded flowers. His job as a landscaper started early each day.
“Got some more of that?” Jake asked, indicating the mug.
“Donny’s here. What do you think?”
Which meant there was always a pot being brewed.
Jake followed his brother into the house, then into the kitchen. “The place looks good. You painted the outside.”
“Yeah. Group project.”
“Family project.”
Joe nodded, a slight, aggrieved smile on his face. He took a mug from the cupboard, poured Jake a cup then they both leaned against the counter and sipped.
“Looks like you’re doing most of the gardens in town, Joe. It’s all photo worthy.”
“I have a crew of twenty now. We’re busy all the time. Not just residential but quite a few commercial accounts. It’s steady and profitable.”
Jake wondered at Joe’s low-key responses and tone. He used to be the liveliest brother, the most outgoing and talkative. He looked the same—his shower-wet brown hair was tied back in the ponytail he’d had since he was fourteen, and he wore a T-shirt, shorts and work boots, as usual—but something had changed.
“Think Dixie would cut my hair?” Jake asked.
“I’m sure of it, but are you sure you want her to? She’ll ask questions.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to answer them.”
Joe shifted slightly. “Thanks for having Donny tell me what was going on. I worried less. Sort of,” he added with a small smile.
“I figure Donny’s in risky situations often enough, too. I wanted more than just him to know what was happening. Who to contact. You’re the only one who came to mind. I know a lot of extra responsibility has been put on you, Joe, since Dad died.”
“I can handle it.”
“I know that, too. I just wanted you to know I appreciate it.”
“Me, too,” Donovan said, coming into the kitchen and heading straight for the coffeepot. “I don’t say it often enough.”
“True.” Turning to Jake, Joe said, “Speaking of extra responsibility and what you’ve been doing these past months, I don’t know how Keri fits in. Where she fits in.”
Jake hoped by talking about it, some of the memories would fade. He was tired of living with them all the time. “Keri and I were kidnapped together, along with the man she’d been private nurse to for several months.”
“Kidnapped? And this is the first I’m hearing about it?”
“I’m telling you now, Joe. Hidalgo Escobar, Keri’s patient, had been on the waiting list for a liver transplant for months.”
“In Venezuela?”
“Yes. I was on an assignment there and had come across intelligence that Escobar was a target of a hardcore kidnapping group, one that makes a living off ransoming people. I tracked down Escobar and warned him—and Keri, too, since she was always with him. They were supposed to wait for a helicopter to take them to the hospital when they got the call that a liver had been found for him. The helicopter never showed, so they headed to the hospital, a two-hour drive from Caracas.”
