скачать книгу бесплатно
Lakeview Protector
Shirlee McCoy
Ex-military man Eli Jennings owed his commander his life and vowed to repay him by finding his missing sister. His search led to Jasmine Hart's mountain cabin in Lakeview, Virginia, where another woman had disappeared. A strong-willed widow, Jasmine didn't think the two were related. Until a major clue to both mysteries was found in her house. And her own mother-in-law was a witness.Scared for the only family she had left, Jasmine turned to Eli for help. But someone powerful wanted to ensure she never felt safe, never learned the whole truth. And that meant making one more woman disappear.
“Go on inside and lock the doors.
You never know who could
be lurking around here.”
“You’re very good at giving me new things to worry about,” Jasmine said.
Eli gave her a smile. “I’m also very good at keeping people safe.”
“Sarah and I don’t need you to keep us safe. We’re fine on our own.”
“Are you?” He leaned in close to stare into her eyes.
She wanted to move away, but she was frozen in place, fascinated by this strong, handsome man.
“Yes, we are. We’ve both been on our own for a while and managed just fine.”
“That was then. This is now. There’s real trouble here, Jasmine. If you’re not careful, it will find you.”
His words chilled her to the core, but she didn’t want to let him know how much, or just how desperately she wished she did have someone to count on besides herself and her ailing mother-in-law. “If it does, I’ll deal with it.”
“And I’ll be right here to help you out.”
SHIRLEE McCOY
has always loved making up stories. As a child, she daydreamed elaborate tales in which she was the heroine—gutsy, strong and invincible. Though she soon grew out of her superhero fantasies, her love for storytelling never diminished. She knew early that she wanted to write inspirational fiction, and she began writing her first novel when she was a teenager. Still, it wasn’t until her third son was born that she truly began pursuing her dream of being published. Three years later she sold her first book. Now a busy mother of four, Shirlee is a homeschool mom by day and an inspirational author by night. She and her husband and children live in Maryland and share their house with a dog and a guinea pig. You can visit her Web site at www.shirleemccoy.com.
Lakeview
Protector
Shirlee McCoy
“Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,” says the LORD, who has compassion on you.
—Isaiah 54:10
To Aunt Jessica, who knows more than most
what it means to grieve and go on.
Contents
Chapter ONE
Chapter TWO
Chapter THREE
Chapter FOUR
Chapter FIVE
Chapter SIX
Chapter SEVEN
Chapter EIGHT
Chapter NINE
Chapter TEN
Chapter ELEVEN
Chapter TWELVE
Chapter THIRTEEN
Chapter FOURTEEN
Chapter FIFTEEN
Chapter SIXTEEN
Chapter SEVENTEEN
Chapter EIGHTEEN
Chapter NINETEEN
Chapter TWENTY
Chapter TWENTY-ONE
Chapter TWENTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
ONE
Frozen rain fell from steel-gray clouds, pinging off the blacktop and pattering into Smith Mountain Lake. Aside from that the day was silent, the summer bustle of guests replaced by winter solitude. Jasmine Hart was glad. People brought cash, but they also brought baggage, and she wasn’t talking the kind that held clothes. Marital strife, teens with secrets, men and women hiding from the world and from their problems. She’d dealt with them all during her time at Lakeview Retreat, but that had been years ago.
Now she had her own baggage, her own secrets, her own reasons to hide, and dealing with people wasn’t something she wanted to do. It seemed, though, that she had no choice in the matter. One phone call in the middle of the night, one brief conversation with her mother-in-law’s best friend and Jasmine had been on a plane and flying from New Hampshire to Lakeview, Virginia. Three days later, she was caring for her mother-in-law and readying the neglected retreat for the first renter it had had in seventeen months.
Which just went to show how quickly things could change.
“Jazz! Hey, Jazz!” Karen Morris hurried across the slippery pavement, her round cheeks flushed, her brown eyes filled with youthful exuberance. A college student who worked part-time at Lakeview Retreat, Karen had enthusiasm and peppiness to spare. Jasmine tried hard not to hold that against her.
“What’s up?”
“Ms. Sarah. She’s awake and asking if the cabin is ready yet.”
“Tell her I’ll have it ready before our guest arrives. Then you’d better head home. The weather doesn’t look like it’s going to clear.”
“Ms. Sarah said I should give you a hand cleaning the cabin.” Even as she said it, Karen’s gaze was darting toward the rusty Impala she’d driven to work that morning.
“She probably didn’t know how bad the weather was getting.”
“Maybe not, but I can’t afford to get fired from this job.” Karen glanced at the car again. Obviously, the thought of leaving appealed to her. Jasmine couldn’t blame her. The once-bustling retreat had become a lonely place, haunted by memories and silence. Or maybe that was only Jasmine’s perception of it. Maybe to others it was the same peaceful lakeside resort it had always been.
She forced her maudlin thoughts away, refocusing on Karen. “Sarah isn’t going to fire you for going home when the weather is like this.”
“I guess you’re right. And it is getting slippery out here. If you need me to come this weekend, I can. It might be good to have an extra set of hands since you’ve got a renter now.” It might be, but there wasn’t money for it. At least not in Sarah’s coffers. Since Jasmine’s mother-in-law didn’t believe in taking handouts, even from family, that was the only way the extra help could be paid for.
“I’ll give you a call if I need you. Now hurry up and tell Sarah you’re leaving. I don’t want you out on the roads when it’s this slippery.” She forced a smile, waving Karen back toward the house, her stomach churning with anxiety and frustration. Things were bad. Worse than she ever could have imagined when she’d agreed to come help Sarah recover from surgery. Payback for staying away so long? Probably. And probably Jasmine deserved it.
Icy wind sliced through her thick sweatshirt and heavy parka, stealing her breath and reminding her of home. New Hampshire would have snow this week. Here in Lakeview, there’d be frozen rain, drizzle, thick clouds. The lake. Memories of Christmases and laughter. The girls dancing around the living room of Sarah’s modest home. John. Solid. Dependable. All three frozen in time, suspended in her mind as they had been, not as they might have become.
Three years tomorrow.
Maybe she shouldn’t keep track.
She forced the thoughts and images from her mind, refusing to dwell on the past or to contemplate the empty future. One moment at a time. One day at a time. That was the only way she’d survive.
The first of Sarah’s five guest cabins was just up ahead. Small, cozy, great view of Smith Mountain Lake, it was the perfect place for solitude and peace. It wasn’t what the renter had wanted though. He’d done his research online and called with a particular rental in mind. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, set on a hill overlooking the lake, Meadow Lark cabin had always been reserved for large families. In years past, a single-occupant renter would have taken a smaller cabin or looked for a rental somewhere else. Things were different now. Sarah couldn’t afford to turn business away, and Eli Jennings was welcome to Meadow Lark.
Wind buffeted the cabin, shaking windows and shutters as Jasmine stepped inside. January wasn’t kind. It brought gray clouds. Cold weather. Loneliness. Death. Maybe Jazz was in the minority thinking that, but she doubted it. There had to be plenty of other people who’d just as soon skip the month.
She pulled linens from the closet, inhaled staleness and age. They’d have to be washed. She’d do the curtains in the bedroom while she was at it. No sense doing a partial job. It was an adage her mother had lived by. One she’d taught Jazz. Lately, though, doing nothing seemed preferable to doing anything at all.
Three years. Ticking by. One slow moment at a time. Drifting through her fingers like air. Gone.
And now she was back where it had all begun. Back where she’d met John, where he’d proposed, where they’d spent every vacation for thirteen years, where the girls had laughed and giggled, learned to fish, to boat, to dance in the moonlight and in the sun.
Jazz blinked back tears and shoved the linens into the small washing machine, started the water and realized too late that she didn’t have detergent with her.
“Wonderful. Now I’ve got to go back to the house.” Back to the modest rancher and its memory-filled rooms. Back to Sarah and her broken hip and strangely blank eyes. As much as the retreat had changed, Sarah had changed more, fading, shrinking, becoming a shadow of the vibrant woman she’d been.
Jazz shoved the cabin’s door open with more force than necessary, stepping out onto the covered front porch and nearly walking into a tall, broad-shouldered he-man. Dark blond hair cropped short, hazel eyes surrounded by lashes any woman would be proud of, a scowl that sharpened the hard edges of his jaw and cheekbones.
Handsome.
She shoved the thought away as quickly as it came. Noticing men and what they looked like felt too much like a betrayal. “Can I help you?”
“That depends.” He had a deep Southern drawl that was much warmer than his expression.
“On?”
“On whether or not you’re Jasmine Hart.”
“That depends.” She leaned back against the door.
His scowl deepened. “On?”
“On who wants to know.”
A tiny smile flicked across his hard features before it disappeared. “Eli Jennings. I’ve got reservations.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Jennings. I’m glad you made it here with the weather being so bad, but, as I told you last night, check-in is at three.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind letting me check in early. Mrs. Hart down at the main house didn’t seem to think you would.”
“Sarah would be right on most occasions, but the cabin hasn’t been used in a while. It needs to be aired out and cleaned. I’ll need time to do it.”
“I’ll take care of it.” The finality in his tone refused any further argument, and Jasmine shrugged.
“You’re welcome to move your stuff in now, then.”
“Glad to hear it.” There went the tiny smile again, a subtle tilting of his lips that softened his hard features, but didn’t ease the coldness in his eyes.
He’d said he was a writer when he’d called the night before, but his broad, muscled frame and taut expression belonged on a military man, a cop. A career criminal. Whatever he was, whoever he was, that was his business. As long as he paid the rent on time, she’d leave Eli Jennings and his secrets alone. “I’ve started the linens and curtains. I’m just running down to the house to get detergent.”
“I’ve got everything I need in my truck.”
Jazz pushed away from the door. “Here’s the key then. You’ve got a phone line. Dial-up Internet access. Television with cable. Nothing fancy.”
“If I wanted fancy I’d be at the Hilton.” His smile took the sting out of the words and stole the breath from Jasmine’s lungs. Not a tiny smile this time. A full-blown, melt-a-woman’s-heart smile. No man should have a smile that warm, that decadent.
She blinked, took a step away. It was definitely time to leave.
She strode toward the porch steps, forgetting the icy rain until her foot slipped and she fell backward.
Hard hands wrapped around her waist, jerking her upright, reminding her of what a man’s touch was like—strong, steady, sure.
“Better watch your step, ma’am. The ice is making things treacherous.”
Ma’am? She was thirty-three. Not ninety. And unless she missed her guess, Jennings was a few years older. “Jazz is fine. Or Jasmine.”
His cold hazel eyes raked her from the tip of her scuffed boots to the top of the knit cap she wore. “Jasmine.”
Warm honey. Sweet tea. Deep South manners wrapped in six foot two of attitude and trouble.
Jazz looked away, disconcerted, guilty and angry at herself for being both. “If you need anything, call the house. The number’s near the phone.”
