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Couldn’t his brother have brought this up away from all these prying eyes? “She’s professional. And this is business.”
Jack grinned. “Would you have volunteered for the charity board if she wasn’t involved?”
Conrad snapped his case shut. “I’ve always been loyal to the family.” That went without saying. Although it was best to go ahead and address the elephant in the room. “I’m not denying I want to spend more time with her. It’s nice how life lines up sometimes.”
Saving him from further questions, Naomi Steele-Miller pushed open the door. His niece had faced death as a teen and many had thought she wouldn’t survive cancer. Conrad hadn’t been sure how his brother would make it through losing another child after Breanna. Thank God, that hadn’t happened.
And as it turned out, he hadn’t lost Breanna either.
Standing, Conrad pulled out a chair for his niece. Brea and Naomi had looked so much alike as children. How was it that they’d all missed any resemblance when Breanna, posing as Milla Jones, had taken a job as a receptionist? Of course, her hair had been bleached blond. Could they have all been thrown off by something that simple?
Although Brea and Naomi were fraternal twins, not identical.
Naomi pulled her chair into place. “Thank you for being patient. Sorry I’m late. It took longer to settle the girls than I expected.”
Conrad snagged another copy of the children’s book and passed it to his niece. An attorney for Alaska Oil Barons Inc., she had only just started coming to work without her twin daughters in a double stroller. She and her husband worked from home as much as possible. Her husband, Royce, was a research scientist for the corporation.
Jack took a swallow from his water glass before starting. “No need to apologize, Naomi. Everyone else only just arrived.”
Everyone?
Strangely, there were no other board members there—or rather, no one who wasn’t a family member. Could this meeting have a different agenda?
Jack cupped the glass, his jaw tight. “Shana called with an update into the investigation.”
Conrad straightened in his seat. Shana and Chuck Mikkelson were taking a train ride to North Dakota to house hunt for their upcoming move. Chuck was taking a job heading up offices at that end of the pipeline. For her to call, it must have been important. All eyes were trained on Jack.
“Milla Jones—Brea—has made contact through an attorney. She’s willing to talk as long as there’s legal representation present.”
Conrad couldn’t miss the toll this was taking on his older brother. Stark lines fanned from his eyes, dark circles underneath.
Jack shook his head, scraping his hand through his hair. “She’s our Brea, but she wants lawyers to be involved in the reunion? It’s so surreal.”
Jeannie rested a hand on her husband’s arm. “She’s been gone a long time. There’s no telling what she’s been through. Let’s focus on the fact she’s reached out.”
Broderick snorted in disgust. “Because she got word we were closing in on her.”
“That’s rather cynical,” Jack said.
“I’m just setting realistic expectations, Dad. No matter who she is, we can’t forget she was leaking corporate secrets before she ran away without a word to any of us.”
Jack pushed his water glass away. “No matter what happened when she came here as Milla Jones, she is our Breanna. Nothing is more important than that.”
Nods made their way around the table, some more reluctant than others.
Jeannie rolled her chair back. “Let’s break for a few, get our heads in the game again, then reconvene to discuss the latest round of contract negotiations with Ward Benally.”
A wise suggestion to take a breather, given the tension pulsing from both the Steeles and the Mikkelsons. There’d been recent allegations made that someone in the Mikkelson family could have been involved in Brea’s disappearance. It seemed inconceivable, but then so did the possibility that Brea could truly be alive.
These days, anything was possible.
Conrad tossed his tablet into his briefcase. Since he’d weighed in with his written feedback, Conrad took the opportunity to step out of this portion of the meeting.
Once back in the corridor, he turned on his cell and it immediately buzzed with missed calls and texts.
And right at the top of the list of those who’d phoned?
Felicity Hunt.
Felicity tried not to stare at her phone on her kitchen counter.
Calling Conrad had been an impulsive move, which was surprising in and of itself since she wasn’t the impulsive type. But when a friend from work had texted her with questions about a rumor regarding Breanna Steele... Felicity had found herself remembering a discussion with Conrad about how devastating his niece’s disappearance had been for him.
Felicity punched in Conrad’s number before she could think.
Property in Alaska was costly and social workers didn’t bring in large paychecks. Since she lived alone and spent most of her free time at work, it made sense to rent a one-bedroom apartment. She hadn’t brought anything from Texas with her anyway, preferring to leave all her furniture and the bad memories associated with it behind her.
Her living area was tight, but comfy, with a generic tan sofa alongside a space-saver rattan chair, and her one indulgence—a fat, raspberry-colored reading chair perched by the window and under a skylight. She missed her Texas sun but couldn’t deny the magnificence of the views here were unrivaled.
She’d wanted a place far from memories of her painful past, and she’d found a haven here.
Turning back to her coffeepot, she tapped the “water only” feature to make tea. She pulled a mug from the cabinet, a stoneware piece she’d bought at a local festival. Leaving her belongings behind had offered the opportunity to explore new styles and reinvent herself.
She’d kept the most important things in her life, letters from people who cared about her. Foster siblings. Her final foster parents. A social worker who’d made a world of difference in her life.
Her work meant everything to her. She still couldn’t ever turn her back on the career that gave her purpose. Her life’s calling was to make the same difference for helpless children.
A mantra she repeated to herself daily.
More than once daily lately, since Conrad Steele had entered her world.
She blew in her tea before taking a sip. The warmth soothed her nerves.
Her phone chimed, and she reached for the cell while lifting her mug for another drink. The name on the screen stilled her hand.
Conrad Steele.
Her heart leaped at the incoming call, too much. But she wasn’t going to play games by making it ring longer. She was an adult.
She thumbed the speakerphone. “Hello, Conrad.”
“I see I missed a call from you.”
In spite of insisting to herself this was no big deal, she found herself tongue-tied. “I don’t want to be presumptuous. I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”
“Things are still on track for the hospital donations. No need to be concerned.”
She hated that he thought her reason for calling could be only self-serving. “I heard there’s news about your niece. I don’t want to pry and invade your family’s privacy, but I thought of you—”
“You’re not prying. You’re being thoughtful. Thank you. I know you have ties to the family through your friendship with Tally. You care.”
“I do.”
His heavy exhale filled the phone. “Brea has reached out. We don’t know the full story as to where she’s been and why she came back the way she did, pretending to be someone else. But at least we’re going to have answers.”
“This has to be so difficult for you.”
“My brother is tied in knots,” he said tightly.
She knew him well enough to realize how deeply this would affect him, too. He was close to his family. One of the things that drew her to him. “And you’re taking a backseat to your own feelings since you’re an uncle.”
“Are you using those counselor skills on me?”
“It’s second nature, I guess.” She just hadn’t thought she was quite so transparent. Or maybe he was that perceptive. Either way, she needed to choose her words more carefully.
“I’ll be fine. Thank you again for the concern,” he said softly before continuing. “Was there another reason for your call?”
She needed to work with him, but also needed him to understand her position. “I got a text from a coworker with information I thought I should pass along.”
“What kind of information?”
“The rumors are already churning about Milla Jones possibly being your missing niece. Photos of Milla—Brea—have been circulating.”
“Yes, we had those released when we first started our investigation.”
“Everyone in the break room has been talking about the volunteer who filed a report about the same woman delivering flowers to patients one night.” She toyed with her lanyard. “The volunteer said she plans to notify your family, but I wanted to make sure you knew.”
“Delivering flowers? That’s strange.”
“My friend said a volunteer came to her and explained she was approached by Milla and paid a large sum of money to loan her volunteer smock. Unethical on so many levels, which is why she didn’t come forward sooner.”
“How long ago did this happen?”
“Last fall. I’m sure the Steele family will be notified through official channels soon.”
“Last fall? That’s around the time when Naomi’s twins were born.”
A chill went through her to think of Breanna Steele stalking the halls incognito to see her twin’s newborn babies. Hospital security was paramount, especially in the maternity ward. The babies all wore bracelets that would set off alarms if they were taken from the floor. But still. This was more than a little unsettling.
What had happened to Breanna that caused her to distrust her own family so deeply? A sense of foreboding rolled over Felicity, born of too many years on the job, telling her that finding the woman wasn’t going to bring an easy, happy reunion.
Conrad cleared his throat. “Thank you for sharing that information. I’ll pass it along.”
“I hope it helps in some way.”
“Every piece of this crazy puzzle is helpful.” He paused for a moment. “Was there something else?”
“Actually, yes. I want us to start fresh for the good of the hospital project.”
“What do you mean by starting fresh?”
“A working friendship, on neutral ground.” She couldn’t be any more succinct than that.
“I’ve made it clear I want more. Is that going to be a problem for you?”
“And it’s clear we have to work together. I can be professional.” She hoped. If only he wasn’t so damn hot.
Except she knew it was more than that. There were plenty of attractive men in the workplace and she didn’t find herself tempted by them, not in the way this man seemed to seep into her thoughts no matter how hard she tried to put him out of her mind.
“Okay, then,” he continued, “do you ride?”
She couldn’t hold back her laugh. “Do I know how to ride? I’m a Texan.”
His chuckle sent a thrill up her spine.
“Alright, then, Felicity. I’m helping exercise my nephew’s horses while his second barn is rebuilt. Bundle up and join me.”
It was just horseback riding. Not like a romantic dinner out.
And still, she found herself far too excited at the prospect of spending more time with a tempting man she’d vowed never to see again.
Conrad had spent the last twenty-four hours trying to get Felicity’s voice out of his head. Attraction was one thing. Total loss of focus? That was unacceptable.
He’d worn himself out in his home gym in preparation for her arrival in hopes of giving himself a much-needed edge.
Warmth from the shower still clung to his skin as he made his way across his in-home basketball court. Stretching his arms overhead, he exhaled hard as he closed the distance to the door. He combed his fingers through his damp hair, anticipation zinging through him over this outing with Felicity.
Opening the door, he left the harsh fluorescent lights of his gym behind. As his eyes adjusted to the gentler light in his wood-paneled living room, his boots thudded on the pine flooring as he picked his way around the large area rug and black-and-tan sectional. Light filtered in from the large windows, filling the oversize tray ceiling.
Yanking his heavy coat off the rack and snagging his black Stetson, he opened his door and shrugged into the wool coat, which still had the lingering scent of antiseptic and hand sanitizer from all his time at the hospital. Even a pine-scented gust of wind that caused snow to stir slightly didn’t completely dissipate the hospital smell.
It wasn’t altogether unpleasant, though. The smell reminded him of Felicity. The sexy social worker who’d agreed to meet him today at the small barn that loomed slightly to the north. To call it small felt like a misnomer. More like, small as far as his family’s standards went. There was room for only ten horses and one tack room. But large, relatively speaking. He lived a good life.
Snow covered the tiered roof, icicles spiking from the eaves. Three horses trotted around the front paddock. Literally frolicking in the snow. Sally, the oldest mare he owned, played with an oversize ball. Careening around it like a little filly. The old chestnut mare still so full of life and wonder.
His brother had a larger barn with more rides, but then, he had children. Conrad had his horse and mounts for his nieces and nephews to ride when they came over. But he led a bachelor’s existence, more scaled back than his brother’s.
That wasn’t to say Conrad hadn’t once envisioned a life for himself with kids and a spread like his brother. But that wasn’t in the cards for him. He’d seen that clearly after the breakup of two significant relationships. He’d given it his best shot, only to get his heart stomped and the betrayal stung him still.
So he’d thrown himself into helping his brother. He’d watched Jack’s kids grow up, had helped with them as much as his brother would allow. Conrad led a full life.
His boots crunched in the snow as he moved toward the barn. Conrad opened the latch to the climate-controlled stable. Warmth brushed against his cheeks as he grabbed the necessary tack for today’s ride. He placed the saddles one by one on the built-in saddle racks on the walls of the barn. Hung the bridles next to them. He returned to the tack room for grooming supplies. Settled into his routine.
A whinny emerged from down the barn. Jackson, his palomino stallion, poked his golden head out. Ears flicking in anticipation, matching Conrad’s own pent-up energy. Setting the grooming supplies down, he moved toward his horse. Gave the stallion a scratch behind the ears as he slipped the leather halter over Jackson’s head.
Leading the palomino to the first crossties, he clipped the golden horse. Jackson adjusted his weight, popping his front right hoof on an angle, and let out a sigh that seemed almost bored. Of all the horses Conrad had ever worked with, he’d never come across one with so much personality. And a personality that matched his so well.
Giving the horse another scratch, Conrad determined which ride he would choose for Felicity. Glancing around the barn, he settled on Patches. A quiet, steady pinto gelding, well mannered.
