Devil in Disguise (10 page)

“It does help. Thank you.” Neena gave a quick nod before pulling the last batch of biscuits out of the oven. She set about getting plates and silverware, leaving Rachel to her own thoughts.

Sometimes Rachel forgot that before Neena had this warm and happy home in America’s heartland, she had lived through hell on
earth in a correctional facility in Louisiana. Unjustly imprisoned and never one to give up easily, Neena had escaped somewhat by accident, but she’d seized the chance at a new life. A smile played on Rachel’s lips at the memory of the sparks that used to fly in those first encounters with each other. At the time, she was never sure if she wanted to strangle Conrad or climb him. Had it really been more than three years, almost four?

Rachel couldn’t tell if it was her nearness to Conrad’s home turf, her gratitude to him for saving Julia, or the stress of the past few
days that was causing her to seriously rethink her life choices. What’s worse, she couldn’t tell from one moment to the next if Conrad loved her, hated her, or held her in complete indifference. She was dangerously close to behaving like her mother and throwing her pride away for a man. Hell, she’d already done that, she supposed. But then, pride had never been very good at keeping her warm at night.

 Rachel realized with a start that her friend had stopped working and now stood holding the back of a chair directly across from her. Neena stared at her with a penetrating dark gaze eerily similar to Conrad’s.

When Neena spoke, her voice was soft but firm. “If you could have anything in the world right now – Julia’s healing aside – with no thought to logistics, pride, or outside interference, what would it be?”

“That Conrad would love me like he used to, and we’d be together. Always,” Rachel answered without missing a beat, the
certainty in her voice shocking them both into silence.

Neena continued to study Rachel for a moment longer before coming to kneel directly in front of her. She took Rachel’s hands into her own delicate copper ones and looked up into Rachel’s green eyes. “Then go get him. I know my brother. I promise you, he loves you. He’s hurt, he’s scared, he’s maybe even a little pissed, but he loves you desperately.”

Rachel felt like she’d had the wind knocked out of her. More
than
anything, she wanted to believe Neena. But even if she did, what
was she supposed to do about it?

“I don’t know how to get him back,” Rachel admitted quietly, tears brimming.

“Oh, honey.” Neena impulsively hugged her. “We’ll figure it out.”

The determination in Neena’s voice almost made Rachel pity poor Conrad. He wasn’t going to know what hit him.

“Do I need to come back?” Charlie interrupted their hug.

Neena straightened. “Nonsense. Just a little girl talk, but we’re through. Come on in and get a plate before it gets cold.”

Embarrassed, Rachel wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.

Once he fully absorbed the scene in front of him, Charlie’s face darkened. “Do I need to have a word with your brother?”

“What did I do now?” Conrad joined them in the kitchen, a
smile on his face as he reached for a piece of bacon.

“I don’t know. What did you do?” Charlie demanded, forgetting he was a good five inches shorter than Conrad.

“You tell me,” Conrad retorted defensively. “I just came in for bacon.”

“Why is Rachel crying?”

“Rachel’s crying?” Conrad’s head swiveled around.

“I’m not crying.”

Three expressions said they weren’t buying it.

“I’m tired.” Rachel changed her approach.

“Are you okay?” Conrad frowned down at her, walking over to tip her chin up so he could inspect her face.

“I’m just tired,” she muttered miserably, swiping her coffee off
the table and heading up the back staircase to go get a shower,
leaving the room’s other occupants to stare after her.

Her mother was up, showered, and tending to Julia. Rachel
didn’t bother saying good morning to them, lest someone else accuse her of crying. She found a pair or cutoff jean shorts, the prettiest bra and panties she had with her, and the stuff to shave her legs. If she was going to feel like a fool, she’d at least be an attractive one.

Of course, once she was alone in the shower, where there were
no
prying eyes, she couldn’t produce a tear if her life depended on it.
No, once she was alone and no longer cared if she cried, her tears
were replaced with a resolve to get her act together. Neena’s
question hadn’t
been a fair one, because Rachel lived in a world with logistics, pride, and outside interference. And all three of those things made a
reunion with Conrad Langston unlikely.

Dressed and feeling human again, Rachel went to say hi to her
family before checking to see if she’d missed the window for
breakfast. Noticing that she still wore his shirt, Conrad tugged her ponytail and told her he liked her shirt when she reentered the kitchen.

“It’s super soft.” She lifted her chin defiantly.

The look in his eyes said his response would make her blush, but
Gabrielle’s appearance in the kitchen saved her from further embarrassment. As Rachel watched Conrad’s easy banter with his niece and his furtive attempts to win the affection of his nephew, she felt her resolve melt away.

Damn it all
, she mentally cursed. In that instant, she knew.
Before this was over, she’d wind up either married to Conrad
Langston or nursing the mother of all broken hearts.

RACHEL’S PERSONAL REVELATION
made her more quiet
than usual during breakfast – a fact everyone felt the need to comment on, making her wonder if she talked too much on a normal
day. After
breakfast she offered to do the dishes, and Neena gratefully accepted. Conrad offered to help, and Rachel reluctantly accepted. She wasn’t ready for too much contact with him — not until she had
her thoughts sorted out.

Once they were alone, Conrad mentioned casually, “I think
maybe you should stay here for a while.”

“I’m just tired. I’ll be okay.”

“Julia was up a lot last night, wasn’t she?”

Rachel nodded.

“She needs her big sister more than I need a babysitter.”

“Is that what I am – a babysitter?” She could have sworn she heard her heart crack a little.

“I didn’t mean it like that, but I can go to Louisiana alone. Better yet, I can skip the cabin altogether and go meet up with Rick and Veronica. Maybe they’ll let me knock a few of those bastards’ heads together.”

Rachel dropped the plate she was washing back into the suds and shoved Conrad in the chest. “You stubborn ox. You might look okay, but you have lung damage, and you’re still recovering from being poisoned, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Conrad chuckled and caught her sudsy hands in his, refusing to let go when she tried to pull them free. He blew at the pile of bubbles
on her fingers playfully, seductively. She watched his mouth as he
did, nearly turning into a puddle at his feet.

Beau, the Russells’ golden retriever, tore through the kitchen
with a trail of giggling kids behind him. A chicken wandered through at the end of the processional, pausing to glance at the amused couple at the sink. Rachel used the diversion to reclaim her hand.

“Give yourself at least a couple of weeks before you go charging
back into the fight,” she suggested. “Besides, I thought you were supposed to lie low until Rick and Ronnie could assess the situation.”

“I’m too restless to go hide for even a week. I want to do something. I’m just ready for this whole mess to be over so I can go back to my nice, quiet life.”

“Oh.” Rachel emotionally withdrew at his words. “Well, I’m a woman of my word. I said I’d help you get your life back, and I will. Then you can go back to being a recluse.”

“Would you stop saying you owe me?” Conrad threw his dish towel on the counter. “I’m tired of hearing it.”

“I do owe you. You saved my sister’s life.”

“After putting your whole family in danger.”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“When will you stop arguing with me?” he demanded,
retrieving the dish towel to fold it neatly.

“When you stop being wrong,” she retorted tartly, taking the dish towel to dry her hands before handing it back to him. With that, she turned on heel and left him to stand alone in the kitchen, mouth
agape.

She didn’t see Conrad again before he left. She’d gone for a walk
to cool her head, and by the time she returned, he’d gone. She understood he was as jumbled inside as she, but that didn’t make it
any more palatable that he’d up and left. His absence left a gaping void. His
lack of goodbye made her want to cry all over again. The
combination
of the two infuriated her. She wanted to scream. She wanted to
throw a good old-fashioned temper tantrum.

Only that was the last thing in the world Julia needed at the moment. Conrad was her knight in shining armor – she didn’t need to see his armor tarnished. And she didn’t need an overly emotional sister.

Desperate to purge some of her pent-up emotion before she
exploded, Rachel threw herself into cleaning. Neena looked a little
surprised when she first stumbled across Rachel frantically
scrubbing the baseboards in her bathroom, but she didn’t say anything. Rachel
wondered if Neena’s choice to turn and walk away without a peep was made out of understanding or if she simply wanted her baseboards cleaned.

Either way, Rachel made her way through every menial task she could think of that afternoon, emerging only to check on Julia several times. The young girl spent most of the afternoon curled up in a bay
window, reading. Rosemary spent her day in the hammock,
watching
the chickens play keep-away with the occasional treat she’d throw their direction. That evening, Rachel cleaned up in time to make
dinner for the family.

The next several days blended into a similar pattern. Rachel
spent her nights comforting Julia and her days working her fingers to the bone. By the third day, Rachel was no closer to sorting
through the pain and rage that had tangled themselves around her heart.

Hiding out waiting for the other guy to strike had never been Rachel’s style, and it irked her to be doing so now. She was scared for her sister and Conrad if they did more than hide, though – that wasn’t a feeling she was accustomed to either. The helplessness of it all gnawed at her. There was also the futility of finally admitting her
feelings for
Conrad only for him to run away to the bayou before she had a chance to talk to him. And she had no idea how to help Julia or what to do about her mother, who was sinking deeper and deeper into
depression.

Rachel had scrubbed every inch of Neena’s house and spent countless hours chasing it all round and round in her mind, but the only thing she’d gained for her trouble was a set of dark circles under her eyes.

“As thrilled as I am to have you muck my stalls – and in truth, as
amusing as it is to watch a city girl try to muck stalls – I think it’s about time you and I have a talk.” Neena surprised Rachel. She
hadn’t realized she was no longer alone in the stable.

“Don’t laugh. I’m trying.”

“I am too.” A giggle escaped Neena’s lips before she clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Fine. I’ll do something else.” Rachel scowled, moving past
Neena to hang the rake where she’d found it.

“Why don’t you get a shower and go into town with Julia and me?”

“Is that safe?”

“Wear a ball cap. No one in town will recognize you.”

Rachel raised her eyebrows skeptically. It had been two years
since the last time she and Conrad had visited Neena. That visit,
she’d wound up signing autographs at the local diner for an hour.

“They’ll keep their mouths shut if they do.”

Rachel’s expression didn’t change. Small towns were infamous for gossip, and this one excelled in the arena.

“Most of them don’t even know how to log onto the Internet. Those who do wouldn’t dream of saying anything. If it will make you feel better, I’ll call Rick first.”

“It would make me feel better. I don’t want to get my sister killed because I couldn’t sit still like I was told.”

“But you also stayed behind to spend time with your sister, and instead you’ve spent it attacking the mildew in my grout to keep your mind off my brother.”

Rachel frowned. “That hurt a little.”

“Am I wrong?”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t true; I just said it hurt a little.” Rachel’s frown deepened to a scowl. “You know, prison made you mean.”

“Actually, it mellowed me in many respects. I was pretty
scrappy before.”

“That’s a terrifying prospect.”

“Now who’s being mean?” Neena smiled and reached a hand out to Rachel. “Come on. Let’s stop sparring and go shopping instead. There’s a great vintage shop in town.”

“You mean the secondhand store on the square?”

“I thought it might sound trendier if I called it vintage.”

Rachel smiled at that one and had to concede that Neena had a point. “I’ll go clean up.”

The outing did her some good. She found a couple of cute outfits that were outdated enough to be in fashion again, which probably did qualify them as vintage. She also noticed that Julia was thawing a little around the edges. She seemed to jump less and smile a little more. Maybe all the quiet hours spent reading had done her some
good. Still, Rachel knew that by being so wrapped up in her own emotional tumult, she’d been neglecting her real reason for being
there.