She Can Run (3 page)

“I’m Ben, and this is Katie.” He shook Jack’s hand firmly, keeping his slight body angled between Jack and his sister. He had the awkward, overgrown look of a baby giraffe, knobby knees and elbows, long limbs ending in oversized hands and feet. The little girl studied her pink Hello Kitty sneakers as she sidled a few inches farther behind her brother. At least five or six years younger, she could’ve doubled for Tinkerbell, with her diminutive body and enormous eyes.

“Why don’t we go inside?” Jack started hobbling toward the house. The dog pranced in excited circles around the group and bumped Jack’s knee. Jack gritted his teeth as pain shot up to his hip. “Henry, would you relax?”

He led the way into the kitchen. “Do you need anything? Are you guys hungry?”

In the distance, thunder rumbled. Katie turned and hugged her mother’s leg, burying her face into Beth’s side.

Beth lifted the child onto her hip. “Thank so much for the offer, but I’d just like to get them settled for the night, if that’s OK. It’s been a long day.”

“Sure.” Jack led them through the kitchen into the hall. In the foyer, he nodded toward the curving staircase, grabbing hold of Henry’s collar. The dog whined. His tail slapped at Jack’s thigh.

Beth and the kids kept their distance as they crossed to the foot of the stairs.

“Left at the top of the steps. Take any of the bedrooms you want. They’re all empty. I apologize for not going up, but that’s a lot of hopping.” Jack pointed to his knee. “My housekeeper will be back later. Don’t be alarmed if you run into her.”

Halfway up the steps, Katie whispered in her mother’s ear.

Beth smiled tentatively. “Is it OK if the dog comes upstairs with us?”

“He’s all yours.” Jack let go, and Henry bounded up the stairs.

Beth turned and looked directly into his eyes. “Thank you.” Hers were a deep emerald green, and Jack was riveted until she turned away.

“No problem,” Jack murmured, and remained in the foyer, staring, until they climbed the steps and disappeared into the upstairs hall. His chest tightened, and something inside him wanted to follow, something instinctive, primal, and discomforting that stirred his blood. He shook it off, returned to the kitchen and poured a tall glass of water. No more booze tonight.

“Diluting the scotch?” Sean asked.

“Worth a try.” Jack’s head throbbed. “I’m too old for this shit. I feel hungover already, and I haven’t even gone to sleep yet.” Popping the cap off a bottle of ibuprofen, he swallowed two and washed them down. “You get Quinn settled?”

Sean nodded. “You get your new employee settled?”

“Christ.” Jack drained his glass and refilled it at the tap. “What am I going to do with them? I haven’t even decided if I’m staying.”

“Where were you planning to go? Back to that shitty little apartment? Even for a bachelor pad, that place was pathetic.” Sean shook his head. “Think of it this way. If you only stay the year, at least you’ll have a caretaker for this place when you leave.” His cousin paused and scratched his jaw. “But I still can’t figure out how Danny hired her without any of us knowing. Quinn and I both came by here a couple of times a week. He never said a thing. Did he place an ad? Use an agency?”

“Beats me.” Jack set his empty glass in the sink. Lightning flashed, illuminating the kitchen. “But I intend to find out.”

CHAPTER TWO

Something cold and wet touched Beth’s face. She sat bolt upright, her pulse quickening. She struggled to free her legs from the confines of the twisted sheets and sucked in a deep, shaky breath. Her eyes darted around the room as she fought to orient herself. Slowly, her brain registered the simple furniture, the white drapes, the soft bed, the sleeping face of her daughter next to her, all illuminated by the faint pale gray of first light.

They weren’t in Richard’s house.

Henry set his head on the mattress next to her and licked her hand.

Just a nightmare. Not real. At least not anymore.

Relief washed over her like cold rain. Shivering, she pulled the blanket up to her chest.

She should have killed him.

Just a few more blows after he’d collapsed unconscious at her feet would have done the trick. It wasn’t the first time that thought had bubbled up inside her. Like all the previous times, she tamped it firmly back down. She would have gone to prison and lost her children. There was no way anyone would have believed her story. Correction, no one
had
believed anything she’d said. Richard had money and power and the complete control that came with them. And he’d made sure his wife was utterly defenseless.

Through the open doorway, Beth could see her son shift on the couch in the sitting room. Beth pushed her sweat-dampened hair from her face and pressed a palm to her forehead. The dog thrust his nose against her hand and whined softly.

“Thank you, Henry. I didn’t need to see the rest of that dream,” she whispered. Henry took her comment as an invitation and jumped onto the bed. Settling his head next to her pillow, he stretched his warm body out alongside her and blinked his brown eyes at her expectantly.

“I’m sorry if I woke you.” She stroked his broad head.

Henry thumped his tail on the bed a few times and closed his eyes. Beth rolled over and leaned her head against the dog. She ran her fingers through his fur, feeling her heart rate slow, her breathing ease. The steady rise and fall of his chest and the soft snore that accompanied each breath soothed her raw nerves.

Beth glanced at the clock. She’d slept almost four hours. Not bad, considering her current state of employment and housing limbo, as well as the thunderstorm that had raged until after midnight.

She glanced toward the window. Dawn slowly brightened the sky.

The dog sighed. With one arm around his massive neck, she rested her head next to his and closed her eyes.

“Mommy?”

So much for getting another hour of sleep.

“I’m hungry.” Katie sat up beside her, both arms curled around a ragged stuffed giraffe. Brian had bought it the week before he died, for their daughter’s first birthday. Katie didn’t remember her father, but she knew about the animal’s link to him.

“Well, then. We’d better get dressed and go see what’s in the kitchen.” Beth kissed Katie on the nose. Just then Ben stepped through the doorway. He’d put on jeans and a T-shirt, but his hair still stood up on one side of his head. She tossed clothes on the bed for Katie and headed into the bathroom to see how much havoc one more sleepless night had wreaked on her face.

The black hair was still startling, so different from her natural light brown and a sharp contrast to her pallor. God, she just wanted to be herself again. A few splashes of cold water barely added enough color to mimic faint life signs. She smoothed her hair back into a ponytail and tugged on a pair of worn jeans. She looked like Morticia Addams on casual day.

What the hell were they going to do next?

It was barely light out. They could pack up their stuff and be gone before anyone else even got up. On the other hand, she still harbored a small hope that there might still be a job here for her. Someone needed to run this place, even if it was only on a temporary basis. That could buy her some time to figure out the next step. There was no reason not to hang around at least until she could talk to Jack.

It wouldn’t be a problem to make themselves scarce during the funeral. The place was huge, a couple hundred acres. The barn was the logical choice. She and the kids loved animals. Even if they skipped out before the end of the day, spending the morning with the horses would be therapeutic for all of them.

The estate’s isolation had been one more reason she’d wanted this job. When they’d stayed with James, they’d had to spend almost all their time indoors. Here they could run free.

But she was getting ahead of herself. First, she needed to get the kids some breakfast.

Katie perched next to Henry on the bed, stroking his head. “Mommy, can we keep Henry with us?”

“I think that’s up to Henry. Mr. O’Malley doesn’t seem to mind if he follows you around.”

At the sound of his name, Henry raised his head and thumped his tail. He shifted his weight and placed his head in Katie’s lap. Ben reached over and ran a hand down the dog’s back. Henry rolled over and presented his belly to be rubbed.

“Let’s go downstairs and see what we can find for breakfast.” Beth removed the travel doorknob alarm and pushed the antique Shaker dresser she’d slid in front of the door before going to sleep out of the way. It moved easily on the hardwood floors. Too easily to have done much except slow an intruder’s entry, but she’d never have slept without a barricade of some sort. James had taught her to add layers of security whenever possible.

“Let’s be quiet, OK? It’s really early. Everyone else may still be asleep.”

The group headed quietly down the stairs, and the dog zoomed ahead of them.

Despite the early hour, Jack was already in the kitchen, drinking coffee at the farmhouse table. His braced leg rested on a chair. A beat-up T-shirt and khaki shorts hugged a long, lean body. As they entered, he set his newspaper down, dropped his reading glasses on the table, and leaned back. Gray feathered his military-short hair at the temples, lending a distinguished look to a face that wasn’t classically handsome, but immensely appealing in its strength and masculinity. Beth refused to squirm as he surveyed them one by one, then settled his gaze on her. His eyes were clear. Too clear. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. “Everyone sleep OK?”

“Fine, thanks.” The morning sun streamed through the French doors. Beth squinted.

“I bet you’re all hungry.” Jack flattened one palm on the table and reached for his crutch with the other. His mouth tightened as he lowered his left foot toward the floor. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Oh, please don’t get up.” Beth took a step forward. “I can get it.”

Jack frowned and sank back into his seat. “OK. Then you can help yourselves or wait for Mrs. Harris.” He crossed his arms over a peeling Hard Rock Cafe logo. “Dishes are in the cabinet behind you, Beth. There’s milk and orange juice in the fridge. Cereal’s in the pantry.” His eyes shifted back to the children, who stopped just inside the doorway. His jaw tightened.

Beth hesitated at his clipped words. Nerves twisted in her belly. He’d acted more hospitable the night before, but he’d been intoxicated. She had no idea what this man was really like. He could be a drunk. He could have a terrible temper. He also seemed to sense something was off with the children. Maybe they should just be on their way right after breakfast.

Before she could regain her composure—or plan her exit strategy—the back door opened and a woman in her mid-sixties stepped through, a stack of white bakery boxes in her arms. She kicked the door closed with one heel. The boxes wobbled.

“Let me.” Beth jumped forward to take the top half of the stack.

“Why, thank you. You must be Ms. Markham.” The housekeeper’s tall, sturdy frame was draped in a stylishly tailored black pantsuit. Short, beige-blond hair fell in waves around her face.

“I’m Betty Harris.” She set the remaining boxes on the counter and held out her hand. “I apologize for not being prepared for you. Danny must have forgotten to tell me he’d hired you.”

“It’s OK.” Beth shifted her pile to one arm to accept the housekeeper’s firm handshake. The woman’s no-nonsense, friendly demeanor tugged at the tight knot in Beth’s belly, loosening it just a hair.

“Jack told me you had children. I picked up some doughnuts with the order for the reception. It’s the box on top.”

“Call me Beth, please. And thank you. I hope we haven’t put you out.”

Mrs. Harris waved the comment away and patted Beth on the shoulder. “Nonsense, this place needs some kids to liven it up. It’s too big and quiet for my taste. I have twelve grandchildren. So don’t worry about these two bothering me.”

Henry pushed past Beth’s legs, planted himself at Mrs. Harris’s feet, and focused on the white boxes. A string of drool dropped from the dog’s mouth onto the wide-planked floor.

“Go eat your kibble, Henry. Doughnuts aren’t good for dogs.”

The shepherd sighed and ambled over to a stainless steel bowl in the corner, but he kept one eye on the bakery box as he crunched through his dog food.

Beth set her stack of boxes on an outdated laminate counter-top. The kitchen was clean and spacious, but its décor was two decades past needing a remodel.

“Did you get some coffee, dear? It’s in the pot next to the refrigerator.” The housekeeper nodded at Ben and Katie, still standing at the kitchen’s entrance. “I’m Mrs. Harris.”

Beth stepped to their side and slid an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. The child leaned into her. “This is Ben and Katie.”

“I bet you’re hungry.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ben nodded. His eyes darted in Jack’s direction for a second. Katie stared at the floor.

“Then let’s get you some breakfast.” With one eye on the children still standing near the doorway, Mrs. Harris pulled a frying pan from the overhead rack and called over her shoulder. “Jack, shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

Beth poured coffee in a mug and took a sip. After yesterday’s java binge, her stomach cramped in protest. She set the mug on the counter.

“We have hours before we have to leave. The sun’s barely up,” Jack insisted. Mrs. Harris propped a fist on her hip, raised a brow, and stared at him. “OK then, I’ll go get dressed.” He folded his paper and grinned up at her. “Good to know someone’s in charge.”

“Someone has to be.” The housekeeper crossed her arms in mock authority, but Beth could tell she fought a smile.

“Game, set, and match to Mrs. Harris.” Jack heaved to his feet and tucked the crutch under his arm. Swinging forward, he leaned down to Beth and lowered his voice. His breath caressed her neck. “You can expect us to return at about ten. The family’ll stay for a couple of hours. The coast should be clear by one.”

She forced herself not to move, but her spine stiffened as he loomed over her. A woodsy aftershave drifted down and teased her senses. For a moment, she felt the heat from his body just inches from her skin. The flutter in her belly had nothing to do with the coffee and disconcerted her as much as his proximity. To her surprise, instead of recoiling, her body leaned a centimeter closer to his, as if pulled by a huge magnet.