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Casey lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t you like kids?”
“Sure I do. As long as someone else is taking care of them.”
Whatever Casey might have said in response was interrupted when Molly reappeared in the doorway. “Dinner is served, you two. Oh, the baby’s awake. Here, Casey, I’ll take him. You can show our guest of honor into the dining room.”
Passing off the baby, Casey turned with a flourish to offer his arm to Natalie. “Looks like you’re the guest of honor,” he said lightly. “And I’m the designated escort. Madam?”
She hoped no one noticed her slight hesitation before she rested her hand lightly on his arm.
Chapter Three
It was an interesting evening, Natalie thought as the meal progressed. Though well-behaved for a preschooler, Olivia enjoyed attention and didn’t mind performing for it. Kyle had to tell her a couple of times to settle down and eat, which worked for a few minutes until she thought of something else she wanted to say.
In contrast to her quiet husband, Molly was pretty much a nonstop talker. Not in a self-absorbed way, since she asked lots of questions and seemed genuinely interested in the replies. She just liked to keep the conversation lively.
Casey was charming. Articulate, amusing, quick-witted. Natalie couldn’t help wondering why he was working as a less-than-proficient maintenance man. He seemed very fond of Molly, friendly with Kyle, indulgent with Olivia. He gave every appearance of being a happy young man without a care in the world. And yet…
There was something in his eyes. Something about the very faint lines that appeared around his mouth on those rare occasions when she caught him not smiling. Maybe it was because she had her own secrets, but she had the distinct feeling that Casey’s smiles and jokes were hiding something not so happy. She didn’t know how he’d ended up working for his cousin’s husband, but something told her he had a story as depressing as her own.
She didn’t ask questions, partially because she didn’t want to encourage him to ask questions in return. She had asked her aunt and uncle not to tell anyone why she’d left her job in Nashville. Molly and Kyle knew only that she was no longer affiliated with the firm and was taking some time off while making some inquiries toward a new position. She figured they knew there was more to it than that, but they respected her privacy.
No one mentioned careers during dinner, keeping the conversation focused on the children and on local events. They talked about the summer tourist season that had recently ended and the upcoming winter season which would bring in holiday travelers and snow skiers. Gatlinburg, Pigeon Forge and the surrounding towns were all decorating for Christmas, with light displays and special Christmas shows and attractions to entice visitors.
“Maybe you’ll see some of the lights before you go back to Nashville,” Molly said to Natalie while wiping blackberry cobbler from Olivia’s chin.
“Maybe,” Natalie said noncommittally, though holiday displays were pretty much the last thing on her mind right then. She wasn’t in a holiday mood.
Though she consented to let Natalie help her clear the table after the meal, Molly refused to allow her to help clean the kitchen. “There’s very little left to do. Kyle and I will take care of it together after we put the kids to bed.”
Natalie lingered only a few minutes after the meal ended, just long enough that she hoped her visit wouldn’t qualify as an eat-and-run. Her chance to escape appeared when Micah began to fuss and Molly explained that he was ready to be fed. Natalie excused herself then, thanking both Molly and Kyle for the nice meal and telling them she’d like to get back up the mountain before it got too late.
Casey stood when she did. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“That isn’t—”
But he’d already opened the door and was motioning for her to go out ahead of him. She stepped out, snuggling into her black leather coat when a cool night breeze swirled around her. Casey closed the door behind them then fell into step beside her. He hadn’t donned a coat over the long-sleeve denim shirt he wore loose over a light gray T-shirt and jeans, but he didn’t seem to notice the chill.
“Nice meal, wasn’t it?”
She nodded. “Very.”
“My cousin’s quite a talker.”
“I like her.”
“Everyone does. She’s a lot like her mom. My aunt Cassie.”
“Cassie? Were you named after her?”
“No. Mine’s a family name. On my mother’s side.” He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I thought I’d come do some work on the outside of your cabin tomorrow, if that’s okay with you.”
“On a Saturday? Don’t you take weekends off?”
He shrugged. “I don’t really have anything else to do. And the weather’s supposed to be nice tomorrow. In the sixties. Might as well take advantage of it.”
Once again, she wondered about his background, and why he had nothing better to do on a nice Saturday than work on her cabin. But she simply said, “It doesn’t matter to me if you come tomorrow. I’ll be at my computer most of the day.”
She suspected that he was as curious about her as she was about him, but he seemed no more willing to open the door to questions. He nodded. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow then. I won’t come too early, so you don’t have to worry that I’ll wake you at dawn hammering or anything.”
“I tend to be an early riser anyway.” She opened her car door. “Good night, Casey.”
“Good night, Natalie. Drive carefully.”
“Yes, I will. Thanks.”
She noted in her rearview mirror that he waited until she’d started her car and exited the driveway before he turned to go back inside.
Natalie was in the living room with her laptop and a second cup of coffee when she heard Casey’s truck in the driveway the next morning. He didn’t come to the door to announce his arrival, probably because he knew she was expecting him to show up, but went straight to work on the outside repairs. She heard the hammering start and she hoped he didn’t break anything today—especially any of his bones.
She sat on a deep-cushioned, comfortable, green microsuede sofa facing a corner rock fireplace over which hung a flat-screen TV connected to a satellite dish on the roof. A DVD player, a selection of popular DVDs and a gaming system were discreetly hidden in a cabinet beside the fireplace. A recliner and a rocker were placed on either side of the couch, convenient for conversation, television or fire watching.
A wall of big windows and a sliding glass door that opened onto the deck were just beside the fireplace, providing scenic views of the surrounding mountaintops that could compete with any electronic media for entertainment value. From those windows, Natalie had watched birds, squirrels and deer emerging from the woods backed up to the small lawn area.
She tried to concentrate on her computer screen, but she had grimly decided that she was even worse at computer investigations than Casey was at maintenance work. She’d used every search engine she knew, but she’d found nothing about anyone in the firm that could be perceived as evidence that she’d been set up by one of them to take a professional fall.
So Cathy Linski had bought a new car. That was far from incontrovertible evidence of anything except possibly questionable financial judgment.
As for her P.I.—she was beginning to have some doubts about the guy. She had tried twice to reach him that morning, and had gotten nothing but his voice mail. She should have listened to her instincts when she’d first met him. A burly, former police officer in his late thirties, he’d seemed a little sleazy, a bit of a braggart and more than a little annoying. But she’d convinced herself that most private investigators were probably like that, and that she didn’t have to like him personally to work with him. But had her intuition been trying to tell her that he wasn’t going to be a reliable resource?
She set the computer aside in frustration, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do if neither her own clumsy research nor her P.I.’s efforts turned up the evidence she needed to clear her name. Try to believe that some other firm would take a chance and hire her on the basis of her word alone that she had not betrayed the attorney-client privilege for monetary gain? Open her own storefront practice and pray the scandal wasn’t uncovered to humiliate her? Give up and find another career despite the long years of training she had put in to establish this one?
A tap on the back door broke into her unhappy musings. Sighing, she walked into the kitchen, hoping the first aid kit had the supplies to handle whatever Casey’s latest crisis was.
Automatically running a hand through her hair, she opened the door. “Good morning.”
Looking as good as ever, maybe even a little better since he wore a dark green, long-sleeve T-shirt that really brought out the emerald in his multicolored eyes, Casey smiled. “Morning. Hope I’m not bothering you.”
She shook her head, thinking he couldn’t know how relieved she was to be sidetracked from what she’d been doing. “You aren’t.”
“Do you have an old bowl or pot or something I can put some food in? There’s a stray dog out here that looks pretty hungry.”
Despite not being a “dog person,” Natalie didn’t like the thought of any creature suffering. “Hold on. I’ll find something.”
He was looking over his shoulder, presumably at the stray. “Okay, thanks. If you have any scraps or leftovers—”
“I’ll look.”
It took her only a couple of minutes to unearth an empty plastic margarine tub from one of the cabinets and fill it with water. She pulled a plate of leftover meat loaf from the fridge, nuked it just long enough to soften it, and carried both food and water to Casey. “Here. Give him this.”
Casey studied the meat loaf warily. “Are there onions in this? Because onions are really bad for dogs.”
“They’re bad for me, too,” she replied with a shake of her head. “They give me headaches. No onion in the meat loaf. Just meat, egg, ketchup, a little bell pepper and a little mustard.”
“Sounds safe enough in the absence of real dog food. Better than starving, anyway.”
Mildly curious, and needing a distraction from her frustration, she followed him outside to get a look at the stray he’d found. She didn’t bother to grab a jacket. The air was cool, but the thin red sweater she wore with her jeans was sufficient. If she happened to notice that Casey looked darned good in his own jeans from behind, she didn’t let herself dwell on the view. She forced herself to search for the dog instead.
It was a medium-sized mutt, probably a mottled brown and white after a bath, but mostly brown now. Its hair was matted, and Natalie could almost count its ribs. The dog didn’t run when Casey walked slowly toward it, but neither did it allow him to get too close, slinking backward as Casey neared. Casey stopped and set the food and water on the ground, then backed away without making any sudden moves.
“There you go, buddy. It’s all yours,” he said in a low, almost crooning voice. “We’re going to stay way back here and let you have all you want.”
The dog’s nose twitched as the aroma of the hastily warmed meat loaf reached it. Head lowered, wary eyes still fixed on the watching humans, it took a couple of tentative steps forward and sniffed the food. Moments later the plate was empty and the dog was noisily lapping up water to wash down its meal.
Watching sympathetically, Natalie asked, “Should we call animal control?”
She knew very well that the dog didn’t understand her, but the minute she’d finished speaking, it turned and ran into the woods, disappearing into the trees and undergrowth.
Casey looked at her and shrugged. “I don’t see any point now. By the time someone got here, that dog could be anywhere. At least he’s had a good meal today.”
“Was it a male?”
He shrugged again. “I have no idea.”
“Oh.” Hoping the dog would find another good meal soon, she gathered the empty plate and the half-empty bowl of water to take back inside. She turned to look at the ladder propped against the cabin and an open toolbox on the ground beside it. “How’s the work going today?”
Casey pushed a hand through his hair. “Okay. I’ve been cleaning the gutters, mostly. Hammered out a couple of dents to let the water flow better. I noticed some shingles that need to be replaced, but I’ll have to have help with that, since I’ve never done roofing. And I’ve still got to caulk and do some winterizing before the really cold weather sets in. Clean and waterproof the deck. And then Kyle and I are going to install the hot tub.”
“Hot tub?”
His lips twitched. “Yeah. It’s going onto the far end of the deck. Kyle said it seems like everyone wants a hot tub with their cabins these days. A lot of the cabins around here have pool tables and arcade-style video game rooms, but they want to keep this one a little more rustic.”
“Oh, I agree,” she said, glancing at the tidy little cabin that had offered her such welcome seclusion these past few days. She supposed a hot tub on the deck wouldn’t be so bad, for vacationers who liked to soak away tension while they relaxed, but the cabin really needed nothing more. There were hiking trails nearby, a rushing stream that passed right alongside the edge of the property, bird baths and feeders, a grill and picnic table, swings and rockers and chairs on the front porch and back deck for sitting and admiring the spectacular view. Who would want to play video games when they had all of nature for a playground?
Not that she’d taken full advantage of those pleasures while she’d been here. She’d been so obsessed with her problems. She would make a point to sit out on the deck that very day, she promised herself, even if it was with her computer.
“I guess I’d better get back to work,” Casey said, turning toward the house. “I’m going to start on the deck after I finish cleaning that last gutter. You weren’t planning to use the deck today, were you?”
Mentally revising the plans she had just made, she shook her head. “Not if you need to work on it.”
“Winter’s going to be here before we know it and the maintenance work is sort of behind because of the regular handyman’s accident. I told Kyle I’d get as much done as I can today while he works on one of the other rentals.”
“Of course. I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Thanks for helping with the dog.”
She nodded and moved toward the house. An odd feeling hit her as she walked out of the sunny, pleasantly cool daylight and into the almost hauntingly empty cabin. It wasn’t exactly dark inside, since the cabin was well-lit and had plenty of windows to let in the sunlight and the mountain views. But it somehow felt dim and lonely to her as her eyes were drawn to the computer sitting on the coffee table, animated fish swimming lifelessly across the screen.
Setting the bowl and plate in the sink, she crossed her arms over her chest, chilled now in a way she hadn’t been while out in the sun with Casey.
An hour later, Casey was moving furniture off the deck when the back door opened and Natalie stepped out. She carried an insulated, stainless-steel mug and her expression was oddly guarded. Almost as if she were nervous about something.
“I made a fresh pot of coffee,” she said when he turned to look at her. “Would you like a cup?”
He had just opened a bottle of water, but he could drink that later. “Sure,” he said, pleased that she’d made the gesture. “That sounds good, thanks.”
She handed him the mug, then glanced around the deck, from which he’d already removed the Adirondack chairs and the matching end table that sat between them. He still had to move a wrought-iron umbrella table and the four iron spring chairs surrounding it, and a couple of large planters that sat on wrought iron bases to protect the decking. A wooden swing hung on chains at the far end of the deck. That, too, would need a coat of waterproofing sealant.
“Where are you putting the furniture?”
Carefully swallowing a sip of the hot coffee, he lowered the mug to answer. “At the end of the cabin, on the concrete slab with the grill and the picnic table.”
“Could you use some help moving the rest of it? I’d like to do something useful since Aunt Jewel and Uncle Mack have been so generous letting me stay here.”
He made an effort to hide his surprise. “I won’t turn down an offer to help. But you’re sure there isn’t something you’d rather be doing? It’s such a beautiful day.”
She glanced around as if she’d barely noticed. “I have nothing else to do,” she said.
Just the hint of dejection in her voice made his heart soften. What was it about Natalie Lofton that reminded him a little bit of the stray dog they had just fed? Isolated, wary, maybe mistreated at some point, but still with an undeniable air of quiet dignity?
Suspecting that she wouldn’t appreciate that analogy at all—would more likely hate it, in fact—he kept it to himself. Setting the coffee mug on the wide deck railing, he nodded toward the wrought iron dining set. “We can start moving the chairs.”
She turned in that direction. Casey reached out to detain her. “Do you have a pair of work gloves?” he asked, glancing down at her soft-looking hands. “You don’t want to risk blisters.”
“I have driving gloves. And some knit gloves designed for warmth.”
“Either would be better than nothing.”
“Then I’ll be right back. Is there anything else we need from inside?”
“No.” He took hold of the first chair. “I’ll take this one down.”
He was returning from that short trip when he met up with Natalie again. Her hands protected by leather driving gloves, she lugged one of the chairs, hindered more by its awkward shape than by weight. He almost offered to help her, but something about the way she looked at him warned him that she’d rather do it herself.
He both understood and respected pride. Nodding, he moved past her to get the third chair. They would carry the table together, he decided. To be honest, he wasn’t sure how he’d have gotten it down the steps by himself. But because of his own slightly overdeveloped ego, he probably wouldn’t have asked for her help had she not offered.
They worked together for the next two hours, removing the remainder of the furnishings and then cleaning the deck with brooms and a small power washer Casey had brought with him. They didn’t talk much, but the quiet was companionable. The sounds of singing birds and rushing water and dried leaves blowing across the ground provided a sound track for their efforts.
Though he didn’t allow himself to stare openly at her, Casey observed Natalie surreptitiously as she worked. He was pleased to see a tint of color in her cheeks, a new sparkle of accomplishment in her eyes. She liked having a purpose, he decided, something that made her feel useful. And the crisp, fresh air wasn’t hurting either, since she’d been spending entirely too much time holed up in the cabin, from what he had observed.
“That looks good,” he announced a short while later as he and Natalie stood back to admire their work. “Tomorrow morning I’ll apply the sealer. We can replace the furniture in twenty-four to forty-eight hours after that, according to the instructions on the can.”
“There’s a lot of maintenance involved with these cabins, isn’t there? It’s mind-boggling how much hard work is involved in being a vacation landlord.”
“Yeah. Kyle and Mack both put in long days, especially now that their full-time maintenance guy’s on the bench. And your aunt stays busy with the books and reservations.”
Still looking at the empty deck, Natalie murmured, “Tommy used to complain that his family lived in a vacation destination and never had time to actually take a holiday themselves. I didn’t understand when I was a kid, but I certainly do now.”
Casey studied her face, regretting that he saw shadows of sadness in her eyes again. “Kyle’s talked about your cousin. It sounds as if he was a great guy.”
