Oregon Outback (6 page)

Candice offered Darcy an apologetic grin. “I’m really sorry about this. She insisted that we stop here before heading out. We were going to leave the gift on your doorstep with a note.”

Mrs. Olson pressed her hand over Darcy’s like she’d done at the store. “That sketch of the juniper—I just can’t keep that. It belongs to you. I could tell it was special to you. The thought has niggled me ever since.”

“Oh Mrs. Olson. You didn’t have to do that. The sketch was for sale. It belongs to you now.”

Candice lifted a small gift bag from the van and handed it to Darcy. “Better just take it, hon.”

“But if you’d like to return it, I need to give your money back.”

“No. It’s my gift to you. Read the note later.”

Perplexed, Darcy watched Mrs. Olson climb back into the van then her granddaughter steered from the curb. She waved at the little old woman with the kindly eyes. How strange. She made her way back to the house with the gift bag and grabbed the note from inside, ripping it open. It explained what Mrs. Olson had told her in person, except for one thing.

The note suggested the sketch was missing something. Perhaps that was the real reason the woman had returned it—she didn’t think it was complete. Desperately needing more coffee now, Darcy poured enough to fill the cup and took a long swallow.

She removed the sketch from the bag and studied the centuries-old juniper.

Mrs. Olson was right. Darcy did love this sketch. Like all her other photographs, paintings, and sketches, she loved them, but had to let them go. What could the woman think was missing in the sketch? Darcy crawled onto a tall chair that hugged the counter.

At her father’s funeral, she’d seen Jonas leaning against the tree. At the time, she hadn’t known it was him. He was the only thing missing in the picture, but Mrs. Olson couldn’t have known that.

Had she also seen Jonas next to the juniper that day? She’d been at the funeral. Darcy huffed. Things were never that simple.

Mrs. Olson had suggested that God had given Darcy and Jonas a second chance. Maybe—maybe Mrs. Olson was much more perceptive than Darcy about her sketch. About her life.

Invisible forces …

The plate of eggs slipped from Jonas’s grasp and crashed to the floor. He resisted swearing under his breath.

Lucas hovered over the stove, frying bacon. His turn to cook. “Having a bad day so you had to throw a plate?”

“Sorry about that. I’ll clean it up.” Jonas wiped at the mess with a paper towel.

“I’ll make more eggs.”

“Never mind. I’ll just have coffee.”

“Too bad. You need your energy.” The bacon started smoking.

“Pay attention to the bacon instead of me. You’re going to burn it.”

After the plate was collected and eggs wiped from the floor, Jonas slid into the chair and slurped coffee, his mind a tangle. The next thing he knew, Lucas set a plate of bacon and more eggs in front of him.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to, you know.”

Lucas slid into the chair opposite Jonas. “You’ve been a bear since yesterday. Well, more of a bear than usual. Was it that phone call last night?”

Jonas nodded.

“Care to share?”

Shaking his head, Jonas dug into the eggs and bacon, though he couldn’t taste a thing. Tom had called again last night issuing him another warning. What Jonas couldn’t figure was that if Gambini was serious about his threat, why would he bother warning Jonas?

Jonas had brought trouble with him, putting his brothers in danger.

Putting Darcy in danger.

Darcy wanted to keep the past behind her. He wished he could do the same—that Gambini would just stay in the past. Jonas should leave now, head back to Chicago. But then he would never get another chance with Darcy.

Lucas finished his plate and got up to make more. Jonas couldn’t believe it. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I burn a lot of calories in this business.” He cracked an egg against the side of the pan and dumped the contents, doing the same with three more. When they were ready, he sat at the table to shovel them in.

“I take it things aren’t going so well with the love of your life,” Lucas said between bites.

Finished with his eggs, Jonas tossed his plate in the sink. “I don’t think she wants to be friends.”

“No kidding. You need to speed things up. Guess you weren’t born with a good sense of timing.”

Jonas laughed. “So much for your advice.”

“Have you told her how you feel? I mean, really feel?”

“No.” Jonas was ready to pour it on the line, but he didn’t want to rush her.

“Have you kissed her?”

“What is this? The Inquisition?”

“Just answer the question.”

“No.”

“That’s all you need to get things on the right track. Just in case she’s forgotten how things were between you.”

Jonas had enough of his brother’s love doctor counsel. This time, he wanted to do things right. His cell buzzed in his pocket. He tugged it out.

Darcy …

Before he schooled his expression, he looked at Lucas, who gave him a knowing grin. Jonas slipped outside, hoping to have a private conversation. “Hey there.”

“I’m sorry if this is too early.” Her tone was soft, sweet.

Jonas shut his eyes and leaned against the side of the house. He loved the sound of her voice. “No. I just finished breakfast. What’s up?”

Idiot. Did there have to be a reason for her to call?

“Are you working today? I mean, helping Lucas.”

“That depends.” He smiled, expectation thudding in his chest. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, you’d invited me to do something with you earlier. I’m sorry that I have so much on my plate today. Would you be interested in coming over? You could help.”

“How soon would you like me there?”

“Anytime is fine.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Whoa.” She laughed. “I need to shower and get dressed. Give me an hour, okay?”

“See you then.” He ended the call, a smile on his face. If the day went well, Jonas might believe he’d fully…
decompressed
.

The thought sent his mind racing back to the bureau. His job. His life in Chicago. After the internal investigation was complete, they’d call him back. He’d need to be cleared to return to work.

But he didn’t want to think about that right now. He was running out of time to make things happen with Darcy.

He shoved through the door and into the kitchen. Lucas stood at the sink washing the breakfast dishes and sang a rocker screamo song about Jonas having a date. He sounded awful—but then that was the style.

He threw an orange at his brother. “It’s not like that. She just wants my help.”

Soapy hands on his hips, Lucas turned to face him. “Just one kiss. That’s all it takes.”

“If only the girls could see you now.” Jonas laughed.

Frowning, Lucas wiped his hands. “Darcy wants the same thing as you. Your mission, agent man, should you choose to accept, is to kiss the girl. Make her remember what you had before. Make her want what you can have now.”

“You should write a love advice column,” Jonas replied with as much sarcasm as he could muster. He headed to the spare room to clean up before seeing Darcy. As much as he hated to admit it, Lucas was on to something.

He’d spent enough time evaluating their relationship; maybe it was time to take the next step. Maybe today would be the day he would tell her everything. Or better.

He
would
kiss her.

A
ll it had taken was Mrs. Olson’s strange appearance this morning.

The doorbell rang. Darcy glanced at the clock. Jonas was ten minutes early.

She took one last glance in the mirror to reassure herself the new pair of jeans and lavender knit top she wore flattered her shape.

She was pathetic. Darcy needed to hear what Jonas wanted. Friendship or love? And if it was love he proposed, she wanted to hear his five-year plan.

Yeah, right. One step at a time.

She opened the door and smiled. Jonas cracked a playful, lovable grin. The shimmer in his dark eyes stirred her heart to flight—she was soaring again, only this time she was about to drop, falling straight to the ground.

“Sorry if I’m early.”

She swung the door wide. “No problem. Come in. But when you hear what I’ve got you doing, you might wish you’d come late or not at all.”

He stepped through the door, leaving her in the wake of his musky cologne. Behind his back, she frowned, wondering if she’d made a mistake. Why did her heart and mind have to battle over this?

Jonas swung around to face her. “You’ve been busy.”

He referred to the boxes everywhere, of course.

“Yeah, well, not busy enough. I’ve gone through boxes from the attic, looking through stacks of things. There’s plenty I need to pack as well. Some things I’m going to store for a while. Other things I’m going to sell in the estate sale.”

Jonas’s smile slipped.

Darcy kept hers in place. “And this is where I need your help.”

Pressing his hand over his mouth in a thoughtful pose, he surveyed the room scattered with cardboard and junk. “You’re really going to sell all this stuff so soon after your dad’s funeral?”

The look in his eyes bordered on a challenge. Darcy couldn’t stand the accusation there. She made her way to the kitchen, aware that Jonas followed her with his gaze. He expected an answer.

What did he know about it? He’d been gone for so long. He had no right. She squeezed her eyes shut, stifling her retort. She didn’t want to get into that.

“You want some coffee?” she asked.

“Sure.” Jonas approached the kitchen counter. “I’m sorry. It’s not my place.”

Darcy poured the coffee, then raised her gaze to meet his. She offered a smile in truce. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not discuss my reasons for doing things the way I am.”

She wasn’t sure there was any sense to packing up the house other than the sooner she took care of what was a necessary task, the sooner she would be free.

To do what, she wasn’t exactly sure.

After showing Jonas where she wanted him to start, he positioned himself on a footstool and began packing items she’d put in a pile. Today, Darcy planned to go through her mother’s dishes—the Noritake china she’d been given when her mother had died. Of course, Darcy had continued the tradition, always using the china for Sunday dinners when they hadn’t been invited to someone else’s home after church. That hardly ever happened. Looking at it now, she finally realized what a state of confusion she was in.

She’d been wrong to think she could do this so soon, and sagged against the counter. Everyone had been right—it was too soon. But it had to be done. There was no good time.

“Darcy, did you see this?” Still sitting on the footstool, Jonas peered at her from the living room.

Glad for the distraction, she set the dish on the counter and went to him. “What is it?”

He held up a photograph. Prom night. Darcy’s junior year. She and Jonas stood together. He wore his tux, she, her sky-blue prom dress. She laughed. “Oh, I forgot about this.”

She attempted to pull it away, but he wouldn’t let go. Smiling, she tugged harder. “Let me see.”

He relinquished his hold. Darcy pretended she didn’t see the regret in his eyes and studied the old photograph.

“You were a lot skinnier then. Better looking, too.” She laughed. That was so not true.

“Now it’s my turn.” Jonas stood. He took the photo from her and stared, his gaze thoughtful. “I remember that night. We were young, and our lives were full of hope and promise. That night, we still had a future together.”

Jonas laid the photograph in the box, packing away the memories. He leveled his gaze at her and took her hands in his. The tenderness in his touch, his skin against hers, sent heat rushing through her.

Friendship? No …

Her breath caught in her throat. “What are you doing?”

“I’m done wasting time.” Impatience edged his voice. He inhaled deeply. “From the minute I saw you at your father’s funeral, I’ve wanted to be with you, tell you everything. But I didn’t want to rush you.”

“Jonas …” Her voice was raspy.

“And if I’m rushing you now, just say the word and I’ll stop.”

She’d wanted this, hadn’t she? She wanted to know what Jonas was thinking by putting himself back into her life. But anguish whirled inside. This was all too fast.

He brought her hand to his lips, pressing them against her skin. Tingles swept over her. He took a step closer, his face near hers, his breath warming her cheeks.

It had been so long …

She’d dreamed of this moment. And yet, she was terrified.

The walls were closing around her. He would suffocate her if she let him.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, closing her eyes.