скачать книгу бесплатно
Charlie rolled his eyes and muttered another curse. “All right, fine. Do what you gotta do. But there’s no need for you to quit. Take a leave of absence.”
“I don’t—”
Charlie held up his hands. “Just hear me out. You take all the time you need. Go write your novel. Look for your other sibling. When you’re done and you find out you’re not Hemingway, then you come back here. Your job will be waiting.”
“Charlie—”
“No, I don’t want to hear it. I’m not going to let you throw away your career on a whim. Just go get all this nonsense out of your system once and for all, then come back here where you belong.”
J.T. was torn between exasperation and gratitude. It touched him that the cantankerous old coot thought enough of him to hold his job open, and it irritated the living hell out of him that he ridiculed his dream.
He held the older man’s gaze for several moments. What if Charlie was right? What if his talent didn’t go any deeper than knocking out sensationalized accounts of the news? It was a depressing thought—one he refused to accept.
J.T. wasn’t in any mood to argue, though, and he could see by Charlie’s bulldog expression that he wasn’t going to back down. Hell, why fight it? He could always resign later.
“Okay. You’ve got a deal,” J.T. finally said.
“There is just one condition.”
“Uh-oh, here it comes.”
“Aw, don’t get your shorts in a wad. I just want your promise that if you come across a good story you’ll call it in, that’s all.”
J.T. thought it over. Where he was heading, probably the most exciting thing that ever happened was an elk wandering into town now and then. “Sure. Why not?”
“Good. That’s settled. Now tell me, where’re you going?”
“Oh, no. Forget it. I know you, Charlie. If I tell you, you’ll be on the phone to me every day with an assignment, or wanting to know when I’m coming back.”
“So? What if I need you? What if an international crisis happens? What if World War III breaks out? How the hell am I supposed to get in touch with you?”
“You aren’t. Look, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll check in now and then, but that’s it. Take it or leave it. Either way, in two weeks, I’m outta here.”
Cleaning out his desk and parting from his colleagues and friends was difficult, but for J.T. the hardest part of leaving was saying goodbye to Matt and Maude Ann and the kids.
Which was why he put off doing so until the last minute. When his belongings were in storage, all the last-minute details were handled and his laptop and the clothes he would need were loaded in the back of his Jeep Grand Cherokee, he drove north out of Houston to Lake Livingston.
J.T. knew that putting distance between himself and Matt at this point sure as hell wasn’t going to do much for their relationship. But then, he wondered if anything could.
Though they were brothers, a wall of reserve existed between him and Matt that neither of them seemed capable of breaching.
Perhaps it would always be there, J.T. mused. Maybe they had been separated too long to ever come together as brothers. They’d led different lives, had different upbringings, different outlooks. It saddened him to think so, but it was beginning to look as though it was too late for him and Matt to form any close fraternal ties. Certainly they had not gotten closer during the six weeks since they’d learned about their kinship.
It was a different story with his sister-in-law. He and Maude Ann had hit it off as friends from the moment they met, long before her marriage to Matt three weeks ago. He could talk to Maude Ann, laugh with her, tease her, tell her his hopes and dreams.
Of course, being a psychiatrist, she was trained to be a good listener and she had a sharp understanding of human nature, but there was more to it than that. He and Maudie were kindred souls. He was going to miss her like the devil. And he was going to miss the kids.
As he anticipated, Maude Ann was far more upset by his news than his brother. “You’re leaving? But why?” she asked in a stricken voice.
“I finally realized that I was feeling guilty about the compromises I’d made. So now I’m doing something about it.”
“Oh, J.T., don’t misunderstand me. I think it’s great that you’re finally going to do what you’ve always wanted. Really. And I’m positive you’ll be a success. You’re a wonderful writer. I just don’t understand why you have to leave.”
“There are too many distractions in Houston. It would be too easy to get sidetracked with other things. I need to find someplace quiet where no one knows me so I can concentrate on my writing.”
“You don’t have to leave the state, for heaven’s sake. You could come here.”
J.T. raised his eyebrows. “Here? Live at the Haven? With you and Matt and the kids?”
Henley Haven was a foster home for abused and neglected children that Maude Ann had started several years ago. The structure was a former fishing lodge on the northern shore of Lake Livingston that belonged to Lieutenant John Werner, Maude Ann’s godfather and Matt’s former boss at the HPD.
In the past year Matt had been shot twice in the line of duty, and the wounds had left him with a limp, ending his career as a police officer. Now he and Maude Ann ran the Haven together.
“Look, Maudie, I appre—”
The front door opened to the sound of pitiful wailing. An instant later ten-year-old Yolanda Garcia appeared in the doorway with a bawling Timothy on her hip. “He fell and hurt his elbow,” the girl announced shyly.
Matt rose and limped to where the children stood. “Hey, buddy, let’s have a look.”
Even from where he sat J.T. could see that the injury wasn’t serious. The skin was red but unbroken, with only a few white scrape marks marring the surface. From Timothy’s wails you would have thought he’d received a mortal wound.
Chin quivering pathetically, the four-year-old looked up at Matt with tear-drenched eyes and stuck out his elbow. “It huuurts real bad, Matt.”
“I’ll bet it does,” Matt replied gravely.
Instantly, responding to the gruff empathy, the little boy sniffed and quieted.
Matt examined the scrape with the same seriousness he would have given a bone-deep cut and moved the arm back and forth to test its mobility. “It doesn’t look too bad. Yolanda, why don’t you take him in the bathroom and clean his elbow.”
“Sì, Señor Dolan.”
“A little antibacterial spray and a Band-Aid and you’ll be fine, buddy.” Placing a kiss on the scrape, Matt ruffled the boy’s hair, winked at Yolanda and sent them on their way.
J.T. smiled and shook his head. It still amazed him that his stern brother had settled so easily into marriage and parenthood.
Matt had been a confirmed bachelor and a dedicated police officer, whose whole life and identity had been wrapped up in his job. Yet, not only had he accepted the loss of his career with surprising grace, at his insistence, he and Maude Ann had begun proceedings to adopt all five of the kids currently assigned to her care immediately after they were married.
The instant the children disappeared toward the back of the lodge, Maude Ann turned her attention back to their discussion. “Why not stay here? We’re out in the country, but it’s only a two-hour drive to Houston if you did need to go back. We have the woods and the lake and we’re miles from our nearest neighbor. And this lodge has plenty of bedrooms. It’s perfect.”
“No offense, Maudie, but with all these kids, this place is anything but peaceful.”
“There are only five children here at the moment,” she said with a huff. “Matt and I aren’t taking in any more until we learn if the adoptions are going through. Besides, I thought you liked the children?”
“I do. They’re great kids and I love them all, but you have to admit, they’re anything but quiet.”
As though to prove his point, at that moment the front door banged open again. This time seven-year-old Tyrone burst into the foyer with Jennifer and Debbie hot on his heels. The last one inside slammed the door shut on the run, and the trio pounded up the stairs with the girls shrieking dire threats at Tyrone if he didn’t give “it” back and the boy laughing his head off.
J.T. gave his sister-in-law a dry look. “I rest my case.”
“I know they can get a bit rambunctious, but if it’s quiet you need we can—”
“Sweetheart, leave the man alone,” Matt said, speaking up for the first time. “If J.T. wants to get away, that’s his business. This is his decision to make, not ours.”
A wry smile tugged at J.T.’s mouth. He should have known that Matt wouldn’t raise any objections. The prickly animosity between them had mellowed somewhat since they’d discovered their kinship, but they were hardly bosom buddies. J.T. suspected that Matt was probably relieved he was leaving.
“But we’re his family. He belongs here with us.”
“Maudie,” Matt said in a warning voice.
“Oh, all right.” Maude Ann sighed, and her shoulders slumped. “I know. I’m being selfish.” She took both of J.T.’s hands and squeezed them. “But I hate for you to go. I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss you, too. All of you.” They gazed at each other in silence, each aware of what neither wanted to voice. If the adoption of the children failed to go through, all five of them would probably be moved to another foster home before he returned and they would never see them again.
“Hey, don’t worry,” J.T. said gently when Maude Ann’s eyes grew suspiciously moist. “I’ll keep in touch. I promise.”
“You’d better,” she warned. “Because if you don’t I’ll come get you and haul you back.”
“So, when are you leaving?” Matt asked.
“Actually, I’m on my way now. I just stopped by to let you know I’m going. And, uh…there is one other thing you should know. I’ve decided to take a stab at looking for our missing sibling.”
Matt frowned, and J.T. waited for him to object. From the beginning Matt had not been gung-ho about locating their other triplet. Though he was more flexible since Maude Ann had come into his life, he still resisted change and detested any sort of upheaval in his personal life. A legacy, J.T. suspected, from their birth mother deserting them when they were toddlers.
“If you want to search, that’s your decision. But I think you’re setting yourself an impossible task. With so few clues and sealed adoption records, where do you even start?”
“Actually…I already have.” J.T. reached inside his shirt and pulled out the jagged piece of a medallion that he wore on a chain around his neck. Matt wore a similar one that fit perfectly with J.T.’s, forming two thirds of a silver disk. The medallion pieces had been given to them by their birth mother. “A few weeks back I posted a notice on an Internet missing-persons bulletin board, asking if anyone knew, or knew of, someone who owned a medallion piece like the ones we have. I also included a drawing of the missing section.
“I’ve already received quite a few responses. Some of them were bogus and most of the rest turned out to be nothing, but one seems promising. Here, take a look at this.” J.T. pulled a square of paper from his wallet and handed it to Matt. “I downloaded this about three weeks ago.”
Matt unfolded the paper and began to read aloud.
“The man you are looking for is Zach Mahoney. Your best chance of locating him will be through his sister, Kate Mahoney, who operates a bed-and-breakfast in Gold Fever, Colorado. Zach is a drifter, but he shows up now and then at the B&B.
“I advise you not to reveal that you’re looking for him. The Mahoneys, particularly Zach, are suspects in a criminal case. Kate is protective of her brother, and if either of them suspects someone is looking for Zach, he will go to ground.”
Frowning, Matt looked up from the paper and shot J.T. a hard look. “This isn’t very encouraging.”
“I know.”
“It appears that at best the man’s a bum. At worst, a crook. Are you sure you want to locate him?”
J.T. sighed. “To tell you the truth, no. But I don’t have a choice. I don’t think either of us has. Until we find him, we’re always going to wonder. Face it, Matt, the three of us share a bond, like it or not.”
Matt’s mouth firmed into a grim line, and J.T. saw his jaw tighten. “I guess you’re right. I just hope we’re not buying ourselves a load of trouble.”
“You two do realize that this could just be someone with a grudge against this Zach Mahoney person, don’t you?” Maude Ann said. “Whoever posted this anonymous reply could just be trying to stir up trouble for him. It could even be that he’s not your brother at all.”
“Yeah, I know. Either way, though, I have to find out.”
“So, what are you going to do now?” Matt asked.
“Now? Now I’m going to do just what I told you. I’m going to go find a nice, peaceful place and write.” His gaze swept back and forth between Matt and Maude Ann. “From what I could learn about it, Gold Fever, Colorado, sounds as though it will suit just fine.”
Chapter Two
Kate Mahoney pushed her shopping cart through the aisles of Hendricks Grocery with single-minded purpose: to get her shopping done as quickly as possible and make her escape.
Luckily, today the only other customers in the store were Gert Krueger and Jonell Abbott; although, that was bad enough.
If Gert had her way, Kate and her brother would be rotting behind bars. Jonell wasn’t quite so obvious, or so vocal, but her animosity was just as strong. Both women shot her withering glares whenever she passed them in the aisles.
Otto Hendricks’s mouth thinned when Kate pushed her cart up to the checkout stand and started unloading her groceries. Neither he nor his wife, Shirley, spoke, nor did Kate. Keeping her expression blank, she transferred her purchases onto the counter while Otto rang them up on the ornate, old cash register. Like everything else in Gold Fever, the machine was a relic.
Shirley bagged Kate’s groceries, her face pinched up like a prune. When her husband finished ringing up the items he curtly announced the total, and without a word Kate counted out the required amount in cash and loaded the sacks into her cart.
Neither Otto nor Shirley offered to help, nor did they wish her goodbye when she turned to leave. As Kate opened the door and pushed her cart out onto the sidewalk, she heard an indignant huff and Gert’s querulous, “I swear, I don’t know how that woman has the nerve to show her face in this town.”
“I know,” Shirley agreed. “It makes my blood boil to have to wait on her. You ask me—”
The door swung shut, cutting off the venomous tirade. Kate paused to draw in a deep breath of cool mountain air, then zipped up her windbreaker and turned toward home.
She walked purposefully with her head high and her gaze focused straight ahead, pretending not to notice the stares that followed her or how people she had known most of her life stepped aside to avoid any sort of physical contact with her. A few doors down the street, Donny Bowman stepped from his family’s bakery and headed in her direction. He had given Kate her first kiss, had taken her to the senior prom and afterward had declared his undying love for her, but when he looked up and spotted her, his face hardened. Kate’s chin came up another notch, and she met his cold stare with unapologetic directness. It was Donny who finally broke eye contact and looked away.
The corners of Kate’s mouth curved ever so slightly. Good. Let him glare and grumble, she thought. He won’t see me cringe or hang my head and slink away like a whipped dog.
Thankfully, Gold Fever was a small place, only about eight blocks square. Main Avenue was a spur off Highway 550, about a half mile away, and the only paved street in town. The others were dirt and gravel.
In minutes Kate reached the north end of town where the paving ended. With a sigh of relief, she started up the sloping dirt road. The grocery cart bumped and rattled over rocks and potholes as she pulled it along behind her.
Kate hated going into town, and put off doing so until she had no choice. Even during the height of tourist season she kept to herself as much as possible, venturing down into town merely to buy supplies and pick up her mail at the post office.
The cart was heavy, and soon her arm began to ache. She could have made it easy on herself and driven the SUV into town, but she enjoyed walking and getting out in the fresh air. Winter was just around the corner, and once it arrived she wouldn’t be able to walk to town.
Climbing the gentle slope, she looked around at the soaring peaks and smiled. How she loved it here. As a six-year-old, the first time she and her family had driven over the last pass and started down the winding road into this high mountain valley, she had been enchanted. In twenty-three years that feeling had never left her.
A gust of wind sent a chill through Kate and tugged a blond curl loose from her French braid. She shivered and pushed the dancing tendril away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. During the past couple of weeks, storms had powdered the tops of the mountains with fresh snow. Even in summer, snow capped the jagged peaks, but now the white mantle was growing longer, sagging unevenly like a cheap petticoat, edging downward a little more with each weather front that came through. Soon the town would be buried under a blanket of snow and ice, and Gold Fever’s few souls would hunker down before their fires for the long winter, venturing out only when absolutely necessary.
Kate’s gaze followed the switchback path of the road upward to the house sitting majestically about five hundred feet up the base slope of Smithson Mountain, overlooking the town. She picked up her pace, impatient suddenly to get back inside the protection of its walls. The huge rose-granite house was now known as the Alpine Rose Bed-and-Breakfast, but to Kate it would always be her place of refuge, her home.
The last guests had checked out yesterday, and though most of the tourists who rented rooms from her were nice people, Kate had been happy to see them go. She was looking forward to the respite from the seven-day-a-week work schedule of running a bed-and-breakfast, as well as to her annual period of solitude.
Besides, she needed time to get the place winterized before the snows came in earnest. She had already begun spreading a thick layer of compost and mulch around the bases of the rose bushes that surrounded the house. There were also storm windows to hang, outdoor faucets to insulate, porch furniture to store in the garage.
When she was done with those chores she had to lay in a larger supply of food and art supplies and stock up on books and needlework projects and jigsaw puzzles—things to keep her occupied during the next five months.
Kate rattled around all alone in the big house in the winter, but she didn’t mind. Though she had not been born an introvert, out of necessity she had developed into one over the past four years. Now she had become accustomed to the winter solitude and looked forward to sleeping late and having only herself to please. Most of all, she looked forward to having her home to herself once again.
Kate had barely reached the house and put away her groceries and was passing through the foyer when she heard a vehicle coming up the road. She stepped outside onto the porch and shaded her eyes with her hand, wondering who it could possibly be. Other than Zach, who was in Arizona, and an occasional delivery or repair person, the only people who came to her door were tourists, and the season was over.
