Destiny's Last Bachelor? (16 page)

The cash was gone.

Chapter Thirteen

P
riscilla scraped at her eyes, the tears making it hard for her to see as she drove back from Laramie to the inn. She’d been at the local branch of her bank when it opened and, after waiting through an interminably long computer glitch, withdrawn the necessary amount to replace the $4,800 missing from the cashbox.

After discovering the money was gone, she’d immediately raced to find Jacqueline, even though she’d known the room would be empty. Repeated phone calls had gone unanswered. Priscilla had then tried her father’s secretary, who said she hadn’t heard from Jacqueline since last Friday and, of course, her father was in a business meeting and couldn’t be disturbed.

Despite her recent vow not to play rescuer anymore, Priscilla had to replace the missing cash before anyone found out. She’d calculated the amount needed and left for Laramie, all the while trying to figure out how Jacqueline had managed to get access to the money. Priscilla had gone over the contents of the cashbox on Saturday, but then hadn’t touched it again until this morning. She had been at the camp most of the weekend as they had welcomed a new group of campers, and she and her sister had actually had dinner together Saturday night.

She was sure Jacqueline had come up with some reason for Minnie, or whoever had been manning the front desk, to allow her into Priscilla’s room when she was away, but there was a four-digit security code that opened the safe.

However she’d pulled it off, Jacqueline wasn’t going to get away with this. Priscilla would eventually find her sister and deal with her for this unthinkable act, but she refused to allow all the hard work of everyone involved with the auction to be tainted by her sister’s immature behavior.

And if she was being honest, she had to admit that the idea of revealing what Jacqueline had done to anyone—especially to Dean—shattered her heart. Just a couple of hours ago she’d been daydreaming about what the future might hold for the two of them....

She refused to think about that now. Minutes later, she jumped out of her car after returning to the inn and raced upstairs to her room.

* * *

Dean stood at the counter of the bakery and realized he had no idea what kind of sandwich Priscilla would like for lunch. He always got the Doucette Deli Special, loaded with four different kinds of meat, cheese, some veggies and a spicy sauce that had quite a kick. He supposed they could split the sandwich, but then he spotted the Tanya Veggie, a healthy vegetarian option, and decided to go with that.

“Welcome to Doucette’s. How can I help you?”

Dean placed his order with the teenager behind the counter, paid for it and then stepped aside to wait. The bakery was busy, but he found a quiet corner and started to think about the same thing that had been on his mind all morning.

Priscilla.

Things were moving pretty fast between them and he had no idea what was going to happen next.

If anyone knew he was thinking this way, they’d laugh. Dean had to admit he’d dated—and slept with—a good number of women since moving to Destiny, despite how much Daisy hampered his social life. He’d always made sure that every lady he got involved with was aware from the very beginning that he had no interest in settling down. A determination he had made after things with his ex had ended so badly.

The mantra had been working for him, but ever since he woke up today—no, from the moment he’d made love to her the first time last night—something had changed in him. When she’d gotten out of bed this morning and casually walked across the room to retrieve her robe, he’d had a sudden vision in his head of watching her do that every morning for the rest of his life.

And, yeah, it had freaked him out. So much so that he’d decided he needed to get away to think for a while.

How could things be moving this fast? Hell, they hadn’t even gone on a real date yet. He wanted to take her on a carriage ride, dance with her at the Blue Creek Saloon, be by her side as she experienced her first rodeo, share the beauty of a Wyoming sunset from the front porch of his log home and watch her awaken in the morning as the sunrise shone through the oversize window that filled one wall of his bedroom....

Now that the auction was over, would he have the chance to do any of those things with her? Despite her being on what she called a sabbatical from her job in L.A., he figured she planned to return home eventually. Would she ever be willing to leave that ritzy life behind for a much quieter one here in Destiny? Was he crazy enough to think that the past four weeks—and one night of great sex—were enough to build a future on?

“Excuse me, Dean. Can I speak with you for a minute?”

Dean turned and found Jill Doucette, one of the owners of the bakery, standing there. “Sure, Jill. What’s up?”

She backed up through a door that led into the kitchen and motioned for him to follow her. He did, right into the tiny office, noticing she held something rolled up in her hands.

“We got these in this morning.” Jill unfurled what turned out to be a magazine. “They’re not supposed to go on display until tomorrow, but when I opened the box...”

There were three images on the glossy cover of the
Jackson Star
: one of him dressed in scrubs on stage during the auction, one of Priscilla and him in a heated argument, and a last shot of Jacqueline, posing in her fur coat with a drink in one hand in a bidding paddle in the other. The headline read “Hollywood Heiress Saves Summer Camp and Heals Heart?”

He let out a colorful expletive that would’ve had his mother and his
nonni
cuffing him upside the head. He had no idea the reporters Priscilla’s sister had brought to the auction that night were connected to this gossip rag. He yanked open the cover and quickly scanned the article, his shock turning to outrage at how Priscilla was portrayed as a martyr who’d come to town and single-handedly saved Camp Diamond after being dumped by her millionaire boyfriend.

Priscilla had told him all that had gone on with her sister and her ex-boyfriend, including how Jacqueline had ended up here in town, during the wee hours of the morning, so none of that was a surprise. Hell, she’d told him how she, with her father’s connections, had been cleaning up Jacqueline’s messes for years. Funny how neither one of them had even thought about how this latest fiasco of her sister’s would turn out when the article was published. They’d had been too distracted, or unwilling, to think too far outside of what was happening right there in Priscilla’s bed.

As he continued reading, Dean’s stomach flipped over and then crashed to his feet when he found he was quoted in the article as well, and it wasn’t good. Or the truth. Some of the phrasing sounded familiar, and he racked his brain trying to figure out how—

Friday night. After the auction. The stranger who’d sat beside him when he and Bobby talked must’ve been a reporter. Dammit!

He looked at Jill and read sympathy in her gaze. “My folks and I have decided not to display this issue, but White’s Liquors and the general store carry it, as well. My mom’s already headed to both places to talk to them....” Her voice trailed off and she shrugged, silently telling him that there was no way to stop the article from being seen, as the magazine was probably available statewide.

An employee interrupted them, Dean’s order in his hands. He took it, even though his appetite was gone, thanked Jill profusely and hurried from the store. His only thought was to get to Priscilla before someone else showed her this garbage.

When he got to the inn, he was glad to see Priscilla’s car in the parking lot. Having no idea how he was going to tell her, Dean shoved the magazine into the bag of food and went inside. As he headed toward her room, he noticed the door was ajar. What the—

He rapped hard with his knuckles, pushed it open and stepped inside. “Priscilla? Are you here?”

“Oh!” The shriek fell from her lips as she whipped around, nearly falling from where she sat perched on the edge of the bed. “Dean!”

“Sorry if I scared you,” he said, ignoring the wild beating of his own heart. “Your door was open and I got worried there for second.”

He placed the food on a nearby table and then noticed the large amount of money in her hands and a cashbox on the bed. Latching on to any excuse to put off talking about the magazine for the moment, he said, “Is that the take from the bachelor auction? You never told me the final tally. Can I help you count?”

“No, that’s okay—” Her voice cracked and Priscilla crushed the bills to her chest. “I don’t need any help. I’ll finish this later.” She cleared her throat and turned away, but not before Dean had seen the redness in her eyes and the bright patches on her cheeks.

His heart sank as he glanced back at the food. Had she already seen the article? Had she read it? Did she think he had actually said those things?

“Is there a reason why you’ve been crying?”

“I’m not...crying. I just don’t feel very well.” She pulled in a deep breath and a shudder caused her shoulders to quiver. “Can we please do lunch another time?”

If she thought he was just going to walk away, she had a thing or two to learn about him. “I can’t leave you like this.”

“Like what?” Priscilla’s voice rose. “I’m fine. Please...I just want to—”

Dean sat on the bed next to her. “Something’s wrong. Tell me.”

His weight caused the mattress to shift and the cashbox toppled to the floor, its top springing open and the contents falling out. “Ah, hell. Sorry about that.”

Dropping to his knees, Dean began gathering the personal checks, credit-card receipts and a large amount of cash. Confused, he looked up and found Priscilla staring at him, astonishment on her face.

He glanced back and forth between the cash in his hand and the money she still held in hers. “I don’t get it. What’s with the two piles of money? Were you planning to match the funds that were raised?”

* * *

The money was back.

The fear and dread that had been churning inside of Priscilla reached a fever pitch when Dean walked into her room moments ago, but now it morphed into elation when she saw the cash lying on the floor among the paperwork. Tears filled her eyes again. Somehow during the hour and a half it had taken her to get down to Laramie, get the replacement funds and return, Jacqueline had come back and replaced what she had taken to the cashbox that Priscilla had left lying on her bed.

“Can you explain this?”

Priscilla brushed the wetness from her cheeks, remembering the large amount of money she held in her own hands. She looked down at it, realizing Dean’s assumption would be a perfect excuse to describe what was going on, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t lie to him.

Pulling in a deep breath, she slowly released it and decided to start at the beginning. “Well, I went to count the receipts this morning—”

“And discovered your sister had stolen the cash?”

Priscilla gasped and then saw the handwritten note Dean held in his hand.

“‘Please forgive me.’” Dean’s mocking tone stung as he flipped the card around and read her sister’s words. “‘I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s all here. Love, Jacqueline.’”

Priscilla’s head spun. “I—I can’t believe she did that.”

“I can’t believe you were going to cover for her.”

Priscilla stared at him, not surprised that he’d figured it out so quickly. “I know replacing the cash was a knee-jerk reaction—”

“Ya think?” Dean got to his feet, shoving the paperwork and the money back inside the box. “I would’ve thought the last month had cured you of that.”

Priscilla stood, her back now ramrod straight. She shuffled the bills in her hand into a neat pile before shoving them back into a nearby envelope. “I’ve been taking care of my sister pretty much since she was eight years old. It’s not a switch I can turn off so easily.”

Dean tossed the box onto the bed. “Since your mother died. Yes, you told me stories last night about how you saved her ass time and time again, but this is different. You can’t use your money or your position in society to change the fact that she broke the law and you’re letting her get away with it.”

“The money is back. No crime actually took place.” It was a fine line, but not one she was willing to cross. At least not yet. “There’s no reason to tell anyone about this.” She shuddered at the thought of what the press would do with this—the press! Oh, no! How had she completely forgotten about those reporters at the auction Friday night? She’d been so caught up in dealing with her sister, the camp, getting Holly ready and then last night with Dean...

“Except maybe the sheriff?”

Closing her eyes, Priscilla drew in a deep breath. “You talked about your family, too. About their rich history in law enforcement. I know how you must feel about something like this—”

“You have no idea.”

“Jacqueline is my sister. I know what she did was wrong. Very wrong and it can’t be excused. But I made the decision to make things right in the best way possible for everyone.”

Judging by the way Dean stood there, feet planted apart and arms crossed over his chest, it didn’t matter what she said. They stared at each other, silence filling the air as neither one was willing to bend. Then, just for a moment, she thought she’d seen a hint of empathy or kindness in his eyes before he blinked and it disappeared.

“Are you planning on telling someone about what happened?” she asked.

“No. But not because I don’t think I should.”

There was another long beat of silence.

“I better go,” he whispered, his voice miserable.

Priscilla clenched her hands to her stomach, wanting so much to cross the small space between them and fling her arms around him, but experience and the unofficial Lennox family motto of keeping emotions in check in front of others kept her rooted to her spot except for a brief nod. “That would probably be best.”

Dean turned around and walked out.

She stood there for moment longer, trying to convince herself that not running after him was the right thing to do. It was then she noticed the paper sack he’d left on the table. She turned away, but her gaze landed on the four-poster bed. Had only a few hours passed since she’d awakened warm and safe in Dean’s arms as they talked and made plans for lunch?