Deconstructing Lila (Entangled Select) (17 page)

“Yes, Jacob, you can help me by showing up on time tomorrow.”

He didn’t flinch. Outwardly. She’d just seen him practically crawl all over another woman and make a date. Or at least that’s what he had intended her to see. And all she had to say was show up on time? Okay, he’d bite.

“No problem. But first, can I help you with this?” After a huge breath, she handed the weapon over.

Stepping away from the kissing cars, he dipped his head in the open side driver’s door of the Suburban. He flipped a switch under the wheel and the tow bar lowered, disengaging the Lexus with a soft lurch.

Lila watched the entire process without a word. A dawning comprehension flitted across her features. The tiniest smile curled the corners of her lips.

“Well, dammit all. Wouldn’t you know?”

“See? All it requires is a little patience. You don’t need a crowbar to do the job.”

“I’m all about patience, Jake.” Her sad eyes choked him up. “Sometimes you do need a crowbar to make your point.”

He didn’t have words to express his feelings. He stood at the edge of a deep gully, contemplating whether or not to jump. He could go back or forward, but he could never stay the same again.

The future yawned before him, dark and uncertain. The past ribboned behind him, the mistakes glowing with vivid markers.

“Miss Pert wouldn’t have left the keys in the ignition by any chance, would she?”

The moment ended, but the sensation stayed with him.

Jake checked the ignition. Sure enough, they dangled loosely with a “too sexy” key chain identifying the owner.

“Yep.”

Lila already headed back to her car. “Would you mind backing this monster up so I can get the hell out of here before she comes back?”

He stood on the running boards, looking over the top of the open door. “What about your insurance? Jenna is gonna need that.”

Lila pointed her middle finger at the Suburban’s windshield. Her insurance information was scrawled across a loose piece of stationary, secured under the wiper.

He grabbed it and set it in the passenger seat, waiting for the diesel engine to warm before he brought it to life. In the rearview mirror he could see Jenna pacing up the drive, her lips moving with anger, the cell phone gripped in her hand.

Calming her down and convincing her not to press charges against Lila would take some work.

An irritated honk focused his attention straight ahead. Lila turned in her seat, her thumb commanding him to push back.

“Okay, okay. Keep your britches on, woman,” he mumbled to himself.

When the Suburban eased back, the wheels of the Lexus cut sharply and the car U-turned, heading up the drive to the rural road.

She didn’t turn, didn’t even glance his way, as the wheels crunched gravel, leaving a wake of dust in her path.

Yeah, he’d pissed her off. But it was what he’d wanted, right?

Lesson Number Nineteen —

Children and chores can intrude on a couple’s nightly rituals. As much as it may pain you and the children, demand time alone to be with your man. He will be so grateful and so will you.

Chapter Twenty-One

L
ila guided Granny through the spotless double glass doors of the Hannington Dairy Queen. The smell of ice cream and waffle cones greeted her as soon as they crossed the threshold.

She needed a large M&M’s Blizzard in the worst way, especially after the devastating revelation yesterday. The size of her rear be damned!

Jake couldn’t—wouldn’t—share his personal pain with her, but he would with a woman like perky Jenna? The slight had cut Lila deeply, and even today, her hands shook when she thought of it.

“My goodness, Barbara! Will you look at that cast?” Mary Beth waved frantically from behind the counter. “I was wondering when you’d be up and about. I was telling Delbert the other night I couldn’t imagine you cooped up in the house for very long.”

Granny knew the impact her reappearance would have in town, so she’d made Lila iron her best summer jumper. Her arched brows were penciled in with Lila’s help and her characteristic Rogue Sensation lipstick skillfully applied. She looked her best for the event. And Lila would go to the trouble every day of the week if it made Granny this happy.

At least she could count this part of her return to Hannington as a success.

“Heck no, I got too many responsibilities to lie around watching
Ellen
.”

Mary Beth busied herself making Granny’s customary cup of coffee.

“I don’t see the gals yet.” Granny scanned the dining area.

“We are a little early.” Forty-five minutes to be exact, but she kept the comment to herself.

“Well, let’s grab a table.” Granny picked her way through the dining area to the far back table, stopping to say hello to familiar faces along the way.

Lila set her bags down in an empty chair and watched covertly as her grandmother settled herself into the chair across the table.

Mary Beth arrived with the coffee and slid into one of the empty seats, her brawny arms lying flat against the brown Formica. Her eyes fixed on Lila.

“So what did you do to make Mayor Armstrong so mad? Everyone has been talking about you two. Of course, I don’t listen to gossip, it’s so rude. I want to know somethin’, I go directly to the source.”

The chance to set the record straight. “I don’t know exactly—”

Granny cut her off. “She bought the old Goodwin store. Made Howard madder’n a hornet. What could he do? Stop the sale of property at the city’s expense? No! The ornery old cuss meant to tear that thing down, even after we told him of its historic importance.”

Lila sat back in her seat, content to let someone else do the talking. People listened to Barbara Gentry.

Mary Beth’s eyes lit up like a child with a new toy. “Really? I’d heard something about that. Mayor Armstrong put up a fight?”

“Armstrong’s not a businessman. He’s a politician, and the sooner he learns the difference, the better off Hannington will be,” Granny told Mary Beth.

“Why’s he so dead set against the idea, anyway? What’s his problem?” Mary Beth frowned, throwing her weight into Lila and Granny’s side of the ring.

A flash of green outside the window caught Lila’s attention. An old beat-up farm truck pulled into a space. She watched it, thinking of Otis’s truck. People around here were loyal consumers of American automobiles, no doubt about it.

“There’s Threasa Thompson, now. We can get her take on this whole business.” Mary Beth nodded the brim of her DQ visor to the parking lot outside.

Lila sat up straight and looked closer at the woman sliding out of the green truck. “That’s Threasa?” she asked.

“Uh-huh,” Mary Beth said as three sets of eyes followed Threasa’s approach to the side door. “You probably don’t remember her from school. She was a few years older than you.. Quiet gal. ’Course around Janie, anyone seems quiet.”

She leaned conspiratorially closer and Lila received an idea of just how gray the top of Mary Beth’s head truly was.

“Word is—and I haven’t confirmed it yet—that John Casler is seeing Threasa. At least he’s been going out to her ranch a lot. Doing work.” Mary Beth winked.

Casler. Small world, Lila thought. She and the big guy had a quiet truce after the IGA incident. He even went as far as helping her snag Jake’s running shoes so she could have them repaired.

Threasa breezed in the side door, all grace and willowy beauty even in jeans and beat-up cowboy boots.

Lila seized the opportunity. “I want to talk to her. I’ll be right back.”

She slipped out of the booth and headed for the front counter. Her heart pounded in her chest. Confrontation always made her stomach knot, but if Threasa had sent Miss Pru’s journal, Lila wanted to know. And more importantly, why.

“Excuse me,” she said, drawing Threasa’s attention from the overhead menu. “I’m Lila Gentry. I wondered if you have a minute?”

Threasa looked at her and smiled, acting not the least bit surprised Lila approached her for a private meeting. “Sure. Let me order a coffee and I’ll join you at a table.”

Lila took a table on the opposite side of the restaurant, away from Mary Beth and Granny. If Threasa had less than stellar motives, she wanted the opportunity to hear about them first, without an audience. Then she could decide how to deal with the woman.

Lila watched as she approached, noting when Threasa surveyed the small dining room and sized up the rumor potential.

Yeah, not the best of clandestine spots, but it’d have to do.

“Tell me about Luke Pierce.”

Threasa’s level hazel gaze stayed strong.
Nope, not blown away at all.

“You got the journal, then?”

“Uh-huh. After reading the inside cover, it’s no mystery I’m related to Prudence MacIntosh, but how did you end up with it? And why send it to me?” Lila flattened her hands on the tabletop to keep them from fidgeting. They did that too much these days.

“Maybe some background will make things a little more clear.” Threasa took off her cowboy hat and set it next to her on the seat. Running a hand through her light blond hair, she sighed before beginning.

“I’ve been doing some research myself lately, checking into my family past. My ranch used to be part of a much, much larger spread back in the 1880s, owned by Luke Pierce.”

Lila nodded. This much she knew.

Threasa cleared her throat. “He eventually moved back to his home in Kansas City and sold the ranch to the Thompsons, the ranch managers. By then, the days of the cattle drivers were over. People couldn’t drive the cattle across the open range like they used to. So railroads took over.”

“Oh,” Lila said on a long exhale, understanding dawning at last.

Threasa laughed, a low and rich sound catching Lila off guard.

“Story’s not over yet. The Thompsons ran the place into the ground, burned out most of the grazing land, and sold it off piece by piece. What I have left is nothing compared to the size of the ranch under Pierce. Anyway, by the time I arrived on the scene, it was done for. My parents wanted to sell, but couldn’t find anyone to take it over. So I did when I became of age.

“Now, growing up, I knew three things: I’d take over the ranch when I got old enough, I stuck out from folks around here, and I’m adopted.”

Threasa paused to take a drink of coffee and Lila stared at her, confused. She knew from the way she delivered the last bit about being adopted that it was important, but how it figured into the big picture, she didn’t understand.

“When my birth mother was pregnant with me, she came down from Kansas City to investigate her family history, namely the Pierce ranch. I don’t know anything about her circumstances, or what drove her to come down here really, but once she arrived, she never left. She died giving birth to me, and the Thompsons took me in and adopted me after a bit.”

Lila closed her gaping mouth. She glanced over at Granny, who watched her closely from across the Dairy Queen. And then she looked back into Threasa’s light eyes. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“If you think I’m saying we’re related, then you’re right. That’s what I’m telling you. Luke had three children: Lila, Emma, and Alice. Emma is my great-great-grandmother.”

Stunned, Lila leaned back against the sloped back of the booth. Life continued to surprise her. Just when she thought she had a handle on it, a curveball came out of nowhere.

A cousin. She had a cousin, probably several times removed or something, but a cousin right here in Hannington.

Still, one thing didn’t add up.

“Why didn’t you just call me, or come see me when I got back into town? Why all the secrecy?”

Threasa smiled tightly. “You know who my brother-in-law is, right?”

“Howard.”

“I think he means well in his effort to make Hannington a place of great character. A place people feel proud and secure calling home. That’s his reasoning for pushing so hard to get rid of any trace of the old days. Prostitutes and corrupt city officials don’t do much for the reputation. So I couldn’t very well tell him I wanted to resurrect the grand ole days. Oh, and could I please have Prudence’s journal he took out of her place?

“So. I stole it. And sent it to you.”

“Does he know?” Lila imagined the reign of fire he’d bring down on her head if he knew she had it.

“No. But he will eventually. I owe it to him to tell him. But first, I wanted you to win.” Her cousin smiled for the first time since they sat down and Lila knew from the warmth in her eyes, she’d made a new friend and an ally.

Lesson Number Twenty —

Offer him praise when he does something nice. Perhaps he sharpened your knives or fixed the hole in the outhouse that let in too much cold air. Or maybe you like the way he kisses you before bedtime. Whatever it is, tell him in words and then follow it up in action.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“J
ake, sit down. Please,” Dr. Rogers said.

Jake feigned interest in the rack of car magazines and
National Geographics
in one of the doc’s impersonal patient examination rooms.

Why doctors thought patients would read issue after issue of polar bear mating rituals and Papua New Guinea cultural practices while they waited for the results of life-changing tests, Jake didn’t know. He couldn’t.

Hell, it took every bit of patience he had not to burst from the room and head for his truck.

He dropped into the chair opposite the doctor, his knees spread wide and his hands folded between. “Let’s get on with it, Doc.”

“Of course. Cutting right to it, the results of your tests concern me.” He held his hand up, forestalling Jake’s barrage of questions.

“They concern me only in that I don’t think they’re telling us the whole story this time. I’m recommending more tests.”

Jake rubbed a hand over his eyes. He suddenly felt very old and very tired. “What’s the problem?”

“There are some abnormal blood cell counts the usual screens aren’t accounting for. I want to know what’s causing the increase, and we’ll need another test for that.”

He tried to read the doc’s expression. Rogers was good. All he could see was patience and, hell,
concern
.

What a weak word. Concern. Not strong enough to mean, holy shit, trouble ahead! More like yellow-level alert. A person could easily overlook yellow alert until it escalated to red.

“Okay.” He drew the word out, really not wanting to ask the next question, but knowing just the same he couldn’t avoid it. “What and when?”

“I hate to do this to you, Jake, but scheduling is crazy right now so we’ll have to set it up for Wednesday.”

Two days. The doc wanted him to wait two days to see if the cancer was back. Was Rogers insane? “Nothing sooner, huh?”

Rogers shook his head. “That’s as soon as we can do it. And Jake, this is more for my benefit than yours. The screen results came back well within the normal limits, but there was a variation. And I want to know what’s going on. So, it’s me making this call.”

Jake stood with a quick exhale. Nothing more to say then.

“I’ll be back on Wednesday.”

Rogers smiled. Jake didn’t.

He beat the doctor to the door and let himself out into the drab hallway. He paid his bill and pushed through the double glass doors into the parking lot.

The smell of hot asphalt assailed his senses. The roar of a nearby diesel sounded in the background, drowning out the wrens nestled in the trees around the perimeter of the parking area.

Everything seemed so normal.

Right. Except would he be alive next summer to hear the same sounds? Smell the same fragrances? A test at the Cancer Center on Wednesday would tell.

Jake pulled up in front of Lila’s building and threw his truck into park. He stared through the windshield, wondering where the last hour had gone. He didn’t remember the drive back from Temple.

Finally, he noticed the new glass in the storefront windows. Bright and open, it took about fifty years off the old place, making it appear fresh and new even though the facade dated back to 1870.

If only he could feel as good with a little TLC.

“Back again, darling?”

Jake gripped the steering wheel, but kept his gaze focused straight ahead.

Mark.

Where the hell had he come from? And why hadn’t Jake heard him approach?

’Cause your head is back in Temple, idiot
.

Jake turned to Mark. Even in the heat, the man looked cool as a cucumber. Whatever the hell that meant.

“That’s what I’m paid for,” Jake said, swinging his truck door open, forcing Mark back a few feet.

“And here I thought it was your charming smile.”

Jake stared at him.

“You were supposed to be here at ten a.m. to take delivery of some materials. Luckily I was here and signed for it.”

“Where’s Casler?”

Mark laughed. “Just because I signed for some materials doesn’t mean I’m your secretary. How should I know where that big, bad Native American is?”

Jake frowned. Casler should have been here to cover him while he was away. Something important must have come up.

“What were you doing here this morning?”

Mark stopped examining his nails—wait, had Mark just been examining his nails? Jake shook his head, refusing to spend more time trying to figure the guy out.

“I
am
part of Lila’s team,” he said like Jake suffered from a mental deficiency. “And I am an architect.”

“Well, why don’t you tell her then that this project is going to eat her lunch?”

“Because it’s not,” he said mockingly. “It’s beautiful, full of potential and unfulfilled glamour. Look at the details, Jake. Even you have to admit the place has charm.”

He didn’t have to admit anything. He just did the job.

He headed inside and tried to close the door on Mark, but the man was like a dog that wouldn’t heel. All excited with loads of energy.

“What can I do for you, Mark?” Jake paused inside the door, surveying the preliminary demolition work on the staircase. He had an expert millworker coming in today to custom-make the balusters, newels, and handrails needed to restore the staircase to its original state. Lila wanted it to be a focal point for the downstairs.

“I need to know if you plan on taking Lila to this benefit next week, or if I’m going to have to be the man with the bigger balls and do it?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just talk to me about your balls, Mark.”

“Regardless, I still need your answer.”

Jake met sharp and assessing questions with a look that would have made lesser men quake in their boots.

Mark laughed. “Bullies don’t have much effect on me. Sorry.”

“Where is Lila, anyway?” If the man was going to be in the way, he could at least be useful.

“Busy,” Mark said, as he took out a tape measure and began to measure the front window.

“Something we have in common,” Jake mumbled under his breath.

“So do you have something to wear to this shindig or do you need to borrow a tux?”

He refused to answer and they were in silence for all of fifteen seconds.

“Ah, Jake, sweetie, you’ve got company. Some librarian type in white orthopedic sneakers?”

Could it be the cherry on top of his completely crappy day? Jake turned from the staircase to see Janie Armstrong coming through the door.

“Thought I’d drop by and take a look at what you’ve fought so hard for, Jake.” Janie put a hand to her nose, sniffing madly as a plume of dust disturbed by the guys working the staircase rose up around their feet.

He took another deep breath and counted. He’d been doing that a lot since Rogers had issued another round of tests.

“Lila is putting this building back on the tax rolls like she promised. It will be a fully functional commercial establishment by the end of the year.”

“As a day spa, I hear?” Her lips clenched together, forming a pruney oval.

“You’d have to talk to Lila, but that’s what I understand.”

“This could have been a perfect recreational facility for teenagers, Jake. I’m so disappointed that you couldn’t see that.”

Could nothing be simple today? Maybe he should split and take a run. Call Casler and go have a beer.

Mark cleared his throat near the window. Janie whipped her head around and stared openly at him.

“Janie Armstrong, Mark…?” He didn’t even know the guy’s last name.

“Mark Shrine,” he said, extending his hand.

Janie smiled, although it didn’t reach her cold eyes. “Nice to meet you.

“So where is the lady of the hour? Off plotting her next purchase in Hannington?” She barely concealed her scorn.

“You know, for a woman your age, you really shouldn’t frown so hard. It will eventually leave wrinkles you can’t get rid of.”

Janie’s mouth dropped open. Score one for Mark.

“Besides, you’re not that old. Even though you obviously want people to believe you are.”

“Who the hell are you?” She came back, angrier than Jake had seen her in a long while.

“The next best thing to hit Hannington since Lila.”

She looked at Jake. He shrugged his shoulders, glad Mark’s doggedness had a new target. “He’s the architect.”

“Well, good luck getting code approval on this wreck.” And with that, she sailed out the door. The silence after her departure was deafening.

Mark looked at Jake. “Was that a threat?”

“You can bet on it.”

“Oh, she is so
not
having the last word.” Mark tossed his tape measure in a bucket and followed her out the front door.

Jake rubbed his head, trying to release a mountain of tension that wouldn’t budge.

At least he’d be able to get some work done now.

W
a
tching a lover sleep is the most comforting feeling. And I felt comforted this evening, watching Luke sleep in my bed, his big, wide feet dangling off the end of the mattress. I covered him as best I could, but there is nothing to be done with a man who defies all propriety by being well over six feet tall.

The feeling of joy lasted for all of two minutes before reality came bursting in like an uninvited drunk, as it inevitably does. I looked around my room, my own little sanctuary from the rest of the world, and spied his money clip on the dresser. It was bulging with bills.

What other man would leave his money plainly visible for the taking in a whorehouse?

A man with too much. A trusting man. A good man.

Luke Pierce.

My heart broke with the sudden cruelty of the situation. Here was a kind and loving man offering me the world, if I would come and be his live-in lover. I could have everything my heart desired.

Food, clothing, a house, horses, money. Everything.

But I would still be a whore.

I would still be paid for my services.

I would not be a wife. A mother. A partner.

And there it was. I could no longer deny it. I was falling in love with Luke Pierce, the eccentric cattleman with a heart bigger than his ranch and kindness enough for the entire town.

But he did not love me. He did not want me as his wife. He did not want me, Miss Prudence, the madam of a boardinghouse, to be the mother of his children.

Did he?

He had not asked me to marry him. He asked me to live with him at his ranch.

Living under the same roof would almost be a bigger sin than prostitution.

And why should he want to ruin his reputation by marrying me? I would not do so, if I were in his shoes.

God bless the man, he did not live by the societal rules the rest of us did. Luke Pierce had his own code. That much I was quickly coming to learn on my own. If he wanted a live-in lover, by goodness, he would have one.

Just not me.

I cared for him too much.

So as I covered his bare shoulders with my shawl, I knew what had to be done. I knew what I had to do to protect Luke from himself.

Leave. End our affair.

He would not understand at first. But years from now when he was married to his wife, he would thank me for setting him straight.

It had to be done.

But would my heart survive the separation?